It is also to be observed, that the messenger of her letters to her father, who so often pretended business that way, was an implement in his masters hands, and employed by him for that purpose; and always gave her letters first to him, and his master used to open and read them, and then send them on; by which means, as he hints to her, (as she observes in her letter XXX) he was no stranger to what she wrote. Thus every way was the poor virgin beset: And the whole will shew the base arts of designing men to gain their wicked ends; and how much it behoves the fair sex to stand upon their guard against artful contrivances, especially when riches and power conspire against innocence and a low estate.
A few words more will be necessary to make the sequel better understood. The intriguing gentleman thought fit, however, to keep back from her father her three last letters; in which she mentions his concealing himself to hear her partitioning out her clothes, his last effort to induce her to stay a fortnight, his pretended proposal of the chaplain, and her hopes of speedily seeing them, as also her verses; and to send himself a letter to her father, which is as follows:
GOODMAN ANDREWS,
You will wonder to receive a letter from me. But I think I am obliged to let you know, that I have discovered the strange correspondence carried on between you and your daughter, so injurious to my honour and reputation, and which, I think, you should not have encouraged, till you knew there were sufficient grounds for those aspersions, which she so plentifully casts upon me. Something possibly there might be in what she has written from time to time; but, believe me, with all her pretended simplicity and innocence, I never knew so much romantic invention as she is mistress of. In short, the girls heads turned by romances, and such idle stuff, to which she has given herself up, ever since her kind ladys death. And she assumes airs, as if she was a mirror of perfection, and every body had a design upon her.
Dont mistake me, however; I believe her very honest, and very virtuous; but I have found out also, that she is carrying on a sort of correspondence, or love affair, with a young clergyman, that I hope in time to provide for; but who, at present, is destitute of any subsistence but my favour: And what would be the consequence, can you think, of two young folks, who have nothing in the world to trust to of their own to come together with a family multiplying upon them before they have bread to eat.
For my part, I have too much kindness to them both, not to endeavour to prevent it, if I can; and for this reason I have sent her out of his way for a little while, till I can bring them both to better consideration; and I would not, therefore, have you be surprised you dont see your daughter so soon as you might possibly expect.
Yet I do assure you, upon my honour, that she shall be safe and inviolate; and I hope you dont doubt me, notwithstanding any airs she may have given herself, upon my jocular pleasantry to her, and perhaps a little innocent romping with her, so usual with young folks of the two sexes, when they have been long acquainted, and grown up together; for pride is not my talent.
As she is a mighty letter-writer, I hope she has had the duty to apprise you of her intrigue with the young clergyman; and I know not whether it meets with your countenance: But now she is absent for a little while, (for I know he would have followed her to your village, if she had gone home; and there, perhaps, they would have ruined one another, by marrying,) I doubt not I shall bring him to see his interest, and that he engages not before he knows how to provide for a wife: And when that can be done, let them come together in Gods name, for me.
I expect not to be answered on this head, but by your good opinion, and the confidence you may repose in my honour: being
Your hearty friend to serve you.P. S. I find my man John has been the manager of the correspondence, in which such liberties have been taken with me. I shall soon, in a manner that becomes me, let the saucy fellow know how much I resent his part of the affair. It is hard thing, that a man of my character in the world should be used thus freely by his own servants.
It is easy to guess at the poor old mans concern, upon reading this letter from a gentleman of so much consideration. He knew not what course to take, and had no manner of doubt of his poor daughters innocence, and that foul play was designed her. Yet he sometimes hoped the best, and was ready to believe the surmised correspondence between the clergyman and her, having not received the letters she wrote, which would have cleared up that affair.
But, after all, he resolved, as well to quiet his own as her mothers uneasiness, to undertake a journey to the squires; and leaving his poor wife to excuse him to the farmer who employed him, he set out that very evening, late as it was; and travelling all night, found himself, soon after day-light, at the gate of the gentleman, before the family was up: and there he sat down to rest himself till he should see somebody stirring.
The grooms were the first he saw, coming out to water their horses; and he asked, in so distressful a manner, what was become of Pamela, that they thought him crazy: and said, Why, what have you to do with Pamela, old fellow? Get out of the horses way.Where is your master? said the poor man: Pray, gentlemen, dont be angry: my hearts almost broken.He never gives any thing at the door, I assure you, says one of the grooms; so you lose your labour. I am not a beggar yet, said the poor old man; I want nothing of him, but my Pamela:O my child! my child!
Ill be hanged, says one of them, if this is not Mrs. Pamelas father.Indeed, indeed, said he, wringing his hands, I am; and weeping, Where is my child? Where is my Pamela?Why, father, said one of them, we beg your pardon; but she is gone home to you: How long have you been come from home?O! but last night, said he; I have travelled all night: Is the squire at home, or is he not?Yes, but he is not stirring though, said the groom, as yet. Thank God for that! said he; thank God for that! Then I hope I may be permitted to speak to him anon. They asked him to go in, and he stepped into the stable, and sat down on the stairs there, wiping his eyes, and sighing so sadly, that it grieved the servants to hear him.
The family was soon raised with a report of Pamelas father coming to inquire after his daughter; and the maids would fain have had him go into the kitchen. But Mrs. Jervis, having been told of his coming, arose, and hastened down to her parlour, and took him in with her, and there heard all his sad story, and read the letter. She wept bitterly, but yet endeavoured, before him, to hide her concern; and said, Well, Goodman Andrews, I cannot help weeping at your grief; but I hope there is no occasion. Let nobody see this letter, whatever you do. I dare say your daughter is safe.
Well, but, said he, I see you, madam, know nothing about her:If all was right, so good a gentlewoman as you are, would not have been a stranger to this. To be sure you thought she was with me!
Said she, My master does not always inform his servants of his proceedings; but you need not doubt his honour. You have his hand for it: And you may see he can have no design upon her, because he is not from hence, and does not talk of going hence. O that is all I have to hope for! said he; that is all, indeed!But, said heand was going on, when the report of his coming had reached the squire, who came down, in his morning-gown and slippers, into the parlour, where he and Mrs. Jervis were talking.
Whats the matter, Goodman Andrews? said he, whats the matter? Oh my child! said the good old man, give me my child! I beseech you.Why, I thought, says the squire, that I had satisfied you about her: Sure you have not the letter I sent you, written with my own hand. Yes, yes, but I have, sir, said he; and that brought me hither; and I have walked all night. Poor man, returned he, with great seeming compassion, I am sorry for it truly! Why, your daughter has made a strange racket in my family; and if I thought it would have disturbed you so much, I would have een let her go home; but what I did was to serve her, and you too. She is very safe, I do assure you, Goodman Andrews; and you may take my honour for it, I would not injure her for the world. Do you think I would, Mrs. Jervis? No, I hope not, sir, said she.Hope not! said the poor man; so do I; but pray, sir, give me my child, that is all I desire; and Ill take care no clergyman shall come near her.
Whats the matter, Goodman Andrews? said he, whats the matter? Oh my child! said the good old man, give me my child! I beseech you.Why, I thought, says the squire, that I had satisfied you about her: Sure you have not the letter I sent you, written with my own hand. Yes, yes, but I have, sir, said he; and that brought me hither; and I have walked all night. Poor man, returned he, with great seeming compassion, I am sorry for it truly! Why, your daughter has made a strange racket in my family; and if I thought it would have disturbed you so much, I would have een let her go home; but what I did was to serve her, and you too. She is very safe, I do assure you, Goodman Andrews; and you may take my honour for it, I would not injure her for the world. Do you think I would, Mrs. Jervis? No, I hope not, sir, said she.Hope not! said the poor man; so do I; but pray, sir, give me my child, that is all I desire; and Ill take care no clergyman shall come near her.
Why, London is a great way off, said the squire, and I cant send for her back presently. What, then, said he, have you sent my poor Pamela to London? I would not have said it so, replied the squire; but I assure you, upon my honour, she is quite safe and satisfied, and will quickly inform you of it by letter. She is in a reputable family, no less than a bishops, and is to wait on his lady, till I get the matter over that I mentioned to you.
O how shall I know this? replied he.What, said the squire, pretending anger, am I to be doubted?Do you believe I can have any view upon your daughter? And if I had, do you think I would take such methods as these to effect it? Why, surely, man, thou forgettest whom thou talkest to. O, sir, said he, I beg your pardon! but consider my dear child is in the case; let me but know what bishop, and where; and I will travel to London on foot, to see my daughter, and then be satisfied.
Why, Goodman Andrews, I think thou hast read romances as well as thy daughter, and thy heads turned with them. May I have not my word taken? Do you think, once more, I would offer any thing dishonourable to your daughter? Is there any thing looks like it?Prythee, man, recollect a little who I am; and if I am not to be believed, what signifies talking? Why, sir, said he, pray forgive me; but there is no harm to say, What bishops, or whereabouts? What, and so youd go troubling his lordship with your impertinent fears and stories! Will you be satisfied, if you have a letter from her within a week, it may be less, if she be not negligent, to assure you all is well with her! Why that, said the poor man, will be some comfort. Well then, said the gentleman, I cant answer for her negligence, if she dont write: And if she should send a letter to you, Mrs. Jervis, (for I desire not to see it; I have had trouble enough about her already,) be sure you send it by a man and horse the moment you receive it. To be sure I will, answered she. Thank your honour, said the good man: And then I must wait with as much patience as I can for a week, which will be a year to me.
I tell you, said the gentleman, it must be her own fault if she dont write; for tis what I insisted upon, for my own reputation; and I shant stir from this house, I assure you, till she is heard from, and that to your satisfaction. God bless your honour, said the poor man, as you say and mean truth! Amen, Amen, Goodman Andrews, said he: you see I am not afraid to say Amen. So, Mrs. Jervis, make the good man as welcome as you can; and let me have no uproar about the matter.
He then, whispering her, bid her give him a couple of guineas to bear his charges home; telling him, he should be welcome to stay there till the letter came, if he would, and be a witness, that he intended honourably, and not to stir from his house for one while.
The poor old man staid and dined with Mrs. Jervis, with some tolerable ease of mind, in hopes to hear from his beloved daughter in a few days; and then accepting the present, returned for his own house, and resolved to be as patient as possible.
Meantime Mrs. Jervis, and all the family, were in the utmost grief for the trick put upon the poor Pamela; and she and the steward represented it to their master in as moving terms as they durst; but were forced to rest satisfied with his general assurances of intending her no harm; which, however, Mrs. Jervis little believed, from the pretence he had made in his letter, of the correspondence between Pamela and the young parson; which she knew to be all mere invention, though she durst not say so.
But the week after, they were made a little more easy by the following letter brought by an unknown hand, and left for Mrs. Jervis, which, how procured, will be shewn in the sequel.
DEAR MRS. JERVIS,
I have been vilely tricked, and, instead of being driven by Robin to my dear fathers, I am carried off, to where, I have no liberty to tell. However, I am at present not used hardly, in the main; and write to beg of you to let my dear father and mother (whose hearts must be well nigh broken) know that I am well, and that I am, and, by the grace of God, ever will he, their honest, as well as dutiful daughter, and
Your obliged friend,PAMELA ANDREWS.I must neither send date nor place; but have most solemn assurances of honourable usage. This is the only time my low estate has been troublesome to me, since it has subjected me to the frights I have undergone. Love to your good self, and all my dear fellow-servants. Adieu! adieu! but pray for poor PAMELA.
This, though it quieted not entirely their apprehensions, was shewn to the whole family, and to the gentleman himself, who pretended not to know how it came; and Mrs. Jervis sent it away to the good old folks; who at first suspected it was forged, and not their daughters hand; but, finding the contrary, they were a little easier to hear she was alive and honest: and having inquired of all their acquaintance what could be done, and no one being able to put them in a way how to proceed, with effect, on so extraordinary an occasion, against so rich and so resolute a gentleman; and being afraid to make matters worse, (though they saw plainly enough, that she was in no bishops family, and so mistrusted all the rest of his story,) they applied themselves to prayers for their poor daughter, and for an happy issue to an affair that almost distracted them.
We shall now leave the honest old pair praying for their dear Pamela, and return to the account she herself gives of all this; having written it journal-wise, to amuse and employ her time, in hopes some opportunity might offer to send it to her friends; and, as was her constant view, that she might afterwards thankfully look back upon the dangers she had escaped, when they should be happily overblown, as in time she hoped they would be; and that then she might examine, and either approve or repent of her own conduct in them.
LETTER XXXII
O MY DEAREST FATHER AND MOTHER!
Let me write, and bewail my miserable hard fate, though I have no hope how what I write can be conveyed to your hands!I have now nothing to do, but write and weep, and fear and pray! But yet what can I hope for, when I seem to be devoted, as a victim to the will of a wicked violator of all the laws of God and man!But, gracious Heaven, forgive me my rashness and despondency! O let me not sin against thee; for thou best knowest what is fittest for thy poor handmaid!And as thou sufferest not thy poor creatures to be tempted above what they can bear, I will resign myself to thy good pleasure: And still, I hope, desperate as my condition seems, that as these trials are not of my own seeking, nor the effects of my presumption and vanity, I shall be enabled to overcome them, and, in Gods own good time, be delivered from them.