Chapter vii.

In which are concluded the adventures that happened at the inn at

Upton.

In the first place, then, this gentleman just arrived was no other

person than Squire Western himself, who was come hither in pursuit of

his daughter; and, had he fortunately been two hours earlier, he had

not only found her, but his niece into the bargain; for such was the

wife of Mr Fitzpatrick, who had run away with her five years before,

out of the custody of that sage lady, Madam Western.

Now this lady had departed from the inn much about the same time with

Sophia; for, having been waked by the voice of her husband, she had

sent up for the landlady, and being by her apprized of the matter, had

bribed the good woman, at an extravagant price, to furnish her with

horses for her escape. Such prevalence had money in this family; and

though the mistress would have turned away her maid for a corrupt

hussy, if she had known as much as the reader, yet she was no more

proof against corruption herself than poor Susan had been.

Mr Western and his nephew were not known to one another; nor indeed

would the former have taken any notice of the latter if he had known

him; for, this being a stolen match, and consequently an unnatural one

in the opinion of the good squire, he had, from the time of her

committing it, abandoned the poor young creature, who was then no more

than eighteen, as a monster, and had never since suffered her to be

named in his presence.

The kitchen was now a scene of universal confusion, Western enquiring

after his daughter, and Fitzpatrick as eagerly after his wife, when

Jones entered the room, unfortunately having Sophia's muff in his

hand.

As soon as Western saw Jones, he set up the same holla as is used by

sportsmen when their game is in view. He then immediately run up and

laid hold of Jones, crying, “We have got the dog fox, I warrant the

bitch is not far off.” The jargon which followed for some minutes,

where many spoke different things at the same time, as it would be

very difficult to describe, so would it be no less unpleasant to read.

Jones having, at length, shaken Mr Western off, and some of the

company having interfered between them, our heroe protested his

innocence as to knowing anything of the lady; when Parson Supple

stepped up, and said, “It is folly to deny it; for why, the marks of

guilt are in thy hands. I will myself asseverate and bind it by an

oath, that the muff thou bearest in thy hand belongeth unto Madam

Sophia; for I have frequently observed her, of later days, to bear it

about her.” “My daughter's muff!” cries the squire in a rage. “Hath he

got my daughter's muff? bear witness the goods are found upon him.

I'll have him before a justice of peace this instant. Where is my

daughter, villain?” “Sir,” said Jones, “I beg you would be pacified.

The muff, I acknowledge, is the young lady's; but, upon my honour, I

have never seen her.” At these words Western lost all patience, and

grew inarticulate with rage.

Some of the servants had acquainted Fitzpatrick who Mr Western was.

The good Irishman, therefore, thinking he had now an opportunity to do

an act of service to his uncle, and by that means might possibly

obtain his favour, stept up to Jones, and cried out, “Upon my

conscience, sir, you may be ashamed of denying your having seen the

gentleman's daughter before my face, when you know I found you there

upon the bed together.” Then, turning to Western, he offered to

conduct him immediately to the room where his daughter was; which

offer being accepted, he, the squire, the parson, and some others,

ascended directly to Mrs Waters's chamber, which they entered with no

less violence than Mr Fitzpatrick had done before.

The poor lady started from her sleep with as much amazement as terror,

and beheld at her bedside a figure which might very well be supposed

to have escaped out of Bedlam. Such wildness and confusion were in the

looks of Mr Western; who no sooner saw the lady than he started back,

shewing sufficiently by his manner, before he spoke, that this was not

the person sought after.

So much more tenderly do women value their reputation than their

persons, that, though the latter seemed now in more danger than

before, yet, as the former was secure, the lady screamed not with such

violence as she had done on the other occasion. However, she no sooner

found herself alone than she abandoned all thoughts of further repose;

and, as she had sufficient reason to be dissatisfied with her present

lodging, she dressed herself with all possible expedition.

Mr Western now proceeded to search the whole house, but to as little

purpose as he had disturbed poor Mrs Waters. He then returned

disconsolate into the kitchen, where he found Jones in the custody of

his servants.

This violent uproar had raised all the people in the house, though it

was yet scarcely daylight. Among these was a grave gentleman, who had

the honour to be in the commission of the peace for the county of

Worcester. Of which Mr Western was no sooner informed than he offered

to lay his complaint before him. The justice declined executing his

office, as he said he had no clerk present, nor no book about justice

business; and that he could not carry all the law in his head about

stealing away daughters, and such sort of things.

Here Mr Fitzpatrick offered to lend him his assistance, informing the

company that he had been himself bred to the law. (And indeed he had

served three years as clerk to an attorney in the north of Ireland,

when, chusing a genteeler walk in life, he quitted his master, came

over to England, and set up that business which requires no

apprenticeship, namely, that of a gentleman, in which he had

succeeded, as hath been already partly mentioned.)

Mr Fitzpatrick declared that the law concerning daughters was out of

the present case; that stealing a muff was undoubtedly felony, and the

goods being found upon the person, were sufficient evidence of the

fact.

The magistrate, upon the encouragement of so learned a coadjutor, and

upon the violent intercession of the squire, was at length prevailed

upon to seat himself in the chair of justice, where being placed, upon

viewing the muff which Jones still held in his hand, and upon the

parson's swearing it to be the property of Mr Western, he desired Mr

Fitzpatrick to draw up a commitment, which he said he would sign.

Jones now desired to be heard, which was at last, with difficulty,

granted him. He then produced the evidence of Mr Partridge, as to the

finding it; but, what was still more, Susan deposed that Sophia

herself had delivered the muff to her, and had ordered her to convey

it into the chamber where Mr Jones had found it.

Whether a natural love of justice, or the extraordinary comeliness of

Jones, had wrought on Susan to make the discovery, I will not

determine; but such were the effects of her evidence, that the

magistrate, throwing himself back in his chair, declared that the

matter was now altogether as clear on the side of the prisoner as it

had before been against him: with which the parson concurred, saying,

the Lord forbid he should be instrumental in committing an innocent

person to durance. The justice then arose, acquitted the prisoner, and

broke up the court.

Mr Western now gave every one present a hearty curse, and, immediately

ordering his horses, departed in pursuit of his daughter, without

taking the least notice of his nephew Fitzpatrick, or returning any

answer to his claim of kindred, notwithstanding all the obligations he

had just received from that gentleman. In the violence, moreover, of

his hurry, and of his passion, he luckily forgot to demand the muff of

Jones: I say luckily; for he would have died on the spot rather than

have parted with it.

Jones likewise, with his friend Partridge, set forward the moment he

had paid his reckoning, in quest of his lovely Sophia, whom he now

resolved never more to abandon the pursuit of. Nor could he bring

himself even to take leave of Mrs Waters; of whom he detested the very

thoughts, as she had been, though not designedly, the occasion of his

missing the happiest interview with Sophia, to whom he now vowed

eternal constancy.

As for Mrs Waters, she took the opportunity of the coach which was

going to Bath; for which place she set out in company with the two

Irish gentlemen, the landlady kindly lending her her cloaths; in

return for which she was contented only to receive about double their

value, as a recompence for the loan. Upon the road she was perfectly

reconciled to Mr Fitzpatrick, who was a very handsome fellow, and

indeed did all she could to console him in the absence of his wife.

Thus ended the many odd adventures which Mr Jones encountered at his

inn at Upton, where they talk, to this day, of the beauty and lovely

behaviour of the charming Sophia, by the name of the Somersetshire

angel.