Chapter 10

"'What is the meaning of this?' cried Bévallan.

"'I will tell you,' I answered. 'A certain young lady was afraid that you were merely a fortune-hunter. She wanted to be certain of it, and now she is so.'

"Thereupon I, too, left the room.

"But what is the matter with you, my dear boy? You are as pale as a corpse."

The fact was that the unexpected news aroused in me such a mixture of joyful and painful feelings that I fell back in a swoon. When I recovered, dear old Laubépin was standing by my bed.

"Will you not confide in me, my boy?" he said rather sadly. "Something, I can see, has happened which has made you miserable on the very day on which you should be full of joy. What is it?"

Moved by his sympathy, I gave him this diary to read, and poured out my very soul to him.

"It is useless for me," he said at last, "to conceal from you the fact that I sent you here with the design to marry you to Marguerite. Everything at first went as well as I could wish, and Madame Laroque was delighted with the match. You and Marguerite were made for each other, and you fell in love almost at first sight. But this affair at the Castle of Elven is something I had not reckoned on. To leap out of the window at the risk of breaking your neck was, my romantic young friend, a sufficient demonstration of your disinterestedness. You need not have taken a solemn oath never to marry Marguerite until you were as rich as she is. What can you do now? You cannot forswear yourself, and you cannot suddenly make an immense fortune."

"I must depart with you," I said very sorrowfully. "There is no other way."

"No, Maxime," he replied, "you are too unwell to move. Remain here for one month longer; then, if you do not hear from me, return to Paris."

It is now a week since he left me, and I have seen no one for the last seven days but the servant who waits upon me. He tells me that Laroque has died, and that Marguerite and her mother, who have been tending him night and day, have worn themselves out, and are now laid up with some sort of fever. Mlle. de Porhoet is also very ill, and not expected to live. Since I am well enough to walk over to Mlle. de Porhoet. I am told that she keeps asking to see me.

_V.--Two in a Garden_

The little maid who came to open the door was weeping, and as I came in I was surprised to hear the voice of Laubépin.

"It is Maxime, Marguerite," he said.

Had Marguerite also risen up from a bed of sickness to see Mlle. de Porhoet? I sprang up the stairs, and entered the room.

"My poor, dear boy!" said Mlle. de Porhoet, in a strange, broken voice.

She was lying in bed. Laubépin, a priest, and a doctor were standing on one side, and Marguerite and her mother were kneeling down in prayer on the other. I saw at once that she was at the point of death, and knelt down beside Marguerite. The poor dying woman smiled faintly, and groped for my hand and put it in Marguerite's, and then fell back on the pillow. She was dead.

Laubépin led me out of the room, and put a document in my hand. It was a will, and the ink on it was hardly dry. Mlle. de Porhoet had made me her heir.

"How good of her!" I said to Laubépin. "I shall treasure her testament as a mark of her love for me. I will settle her little estate on my sister. It will at least keep Hélène from having to go out into the world as a governess."

"And it will keep you, my friend, from having to go out into the world as a steward," said Laubépin, with a smile. "Don't you remember that document about the Spanish succession which you discovered and sent to me? We have won the law-suit, and you are the heir to an estate in Spain which will make you one of the richest men in France."

I went into the garden to think over my strange fortune. How long I sat there in the darkness I do not know. On rising up, I heard a faint sound beneath one of the trees, and a beloved form emerged from the foliage, and stood against the starry sky.

"Marguerite!" I cried, running up to her with outstretched arm.

She murmured my name, and as I clasped her her lips sought mine, and we poured our souls out in a kiss.

* * * * *

I have given Hélène half of my fortune. Marguerite is my wife, and I close these pages for ever, having nothing more to confide to them. It can be said of men, as it has been said of nations, "Happy are those that have no story."

* * * * *

HENRY FIELDING

Amelia

Henry Fielding was born at Sharpham Park, near Glastonbury, England, April 12, 1707. His father, a grandson of the Earl of Desmond, and great-grandson of the first Earl of Denbigh, settled in England shortly after the battle of Ramillies as a country squire. In due course, Fielding was sent to Eton, and afterwards to Leyden, where he remained for two years studying civil law. Financial difficulties, however, put a temporary end to his intention of entering the Bar, and in 1727 he solved the problem of a career by beginning to write for the stage. During the next nine years some eighteen of his plays were produced. In 1748 he was appointed a justice of peace for Westminster, and his writings on police and crime are of interest to this day. "Amelia" was published in 1751, when its author was a magistrate at Bow Street. In a dedicatory letter, Fielding explained that the book was "sincerely designed to promote the cause of virtue, and to expose some of the most glaring evils, as well public as private, which at present infest the country." The licentiousness of wealthy "men about town," the corruption of justice, the abuses of the prison system, the lack of honour concerning marriage--these are some of the "glaring evils" exposed with all the great novelist's power in "Amelia." In the characters of Dr. Harrison and Amelia herself, the virtuous man and woman are drawn so clearly that they inevitably win the reader's sympathy. "Amelia" does not equal the genius of "Tom Jones," but it is remarkable for being so largely devoted to the adventures of a married couple, instead of ending at marriage. Fielding died on October 8, 1754.

_I.--The Inside of a Prison_

On the first of April, in the year--, the watchmen of a certain parish in Westminster brought several persons, whom they had apprehended the preceding night, before Jonathan Thrasher, Esq., one of the justices of the peace for that city.

Among the prisoners a young fellow, whose name was Booth, was charged with beating the watchman in the execution of his office, and breaking his lantern. The justice perceiving the criminal to be but shabbily dressed, was going to commit him without asking any further questions, but at the earnest request of the accused the worthy magistrate submitted to hear his defence.

The young man then alleged that as he was walking home to his lodgings he saw two men in the street cruelly beating a third, upon which he had stopped and endeavoured to assist the person who was so unequally attacked; that the watch came up during the affray, and took them all four into custody; that they were immediately carried to the round-house, where the two original assailants found means to make up the matter, and were discharged by the constable, a favour which he himself, having no money in his pocket, was unable to obtain. He utterly denied having assaulted any of the watchmen, and solemnly declared that he was offered his liberty at the price of half a crown.

Though the bare word of an offender can never be taken against the oath of his accuser, yet the magistrate might have employed some labour in cross-examining the watchman, or at least have given the defendant time to send for the other persons who were present at the affray; neither of which he did.

Booth and the poor man in whose defence he had been engaged were both dispatched to prison under a guard of watchmen.

Mr. Booth was no sooner arrived in the prison than a number of persons gathered around him, all demanding garnish. The master or keeper of the prison then acquainted him that it was the custom of the place for every prisoner, upon his first arrival there, to give something to the former prisoners to make them drink. This was what they called garnish. Mr. Booth answered that he would readily comply with this laudable custom, were it in his power; but that in reality he had not a shilling in his pocket, and, what was worse, he had not a shilling in the world. Upon which the keeper departed, and left poor Booth to the mercy of his companions, who, without loss of time, stripped him of his coat and hid it.

Mr. Booth was too weak to resist and too wise to complain of his usage. He summoned his philosophy to his assistance, and resolved to make himself as easy as possible under his present circumstances.

On the following day, Miss Matthews, an old acquaintance whom he had not seen for some years, was brought into the prison, and Booth was shortly afterwards invited to the room this lady had engaged. Miss Matthews, having told her story, requested Booth to do the same, and to this he acceded.

_II.--Captain Booth Tells His Story_

"From the first I was in love with Amelia; but my own fortune was so desperate, and hers was entirely dependent on her mother, a woman of violent passions, and very unlikely to consent to a match so highly contrary to the interest of her daughter, that I endeavoured to refrain from any proposal of love. I had nothing more than the poor provision of an ensign's commission to depend on, and the thought of leaving my Amelia to starve alone, deprived of her mother's help, was intolerable to me.

"In spite of this I could not keep from telling Amelia the state of my heart, and I soon found all that return of my affection which the tenderest lover can require. Against the opposition of Amelia's mother, Mrs. Harris, to our engagement, we had the support of that good man, Dr. Harrison, the rector; and at last Mrs. Harris yielded to the doctor, and we were married. There was an agreement that I should settle all my Amelia's fortune on her, except a certain sum, which was to be laid out in my advancement in the army, and shortly afterwards I was preferred to the rank of a lieutenant in my regiment, and ordered to Gibraltar. I noticed that Amelia's sister, Miss Betty, who had said many ill-natured things of our marriage, now again became my friend.

"At the siege of Gibraltar I was very badly wounded, and in this situation the image of my Amelia haunted me day and night. Two months and more I continued in a state of uncertainty; when one afternoon poor Atkinson, my servant, came running to my room. I asked him what was the matter, when Amelia herself rushed into the room, and ran hastily to me. She gently chided me for concealing my illness from her, saying, 'Oh, Mr. Booth! And do you think so little of your Amelia as to think I could or would survive you?' Amelia then informed me that she had received a letter from an unknown hand, acquainting her with my misfortune, and advising her, if she desired to see me more, to come directly to Gibraltar.

"From the time of Amelia's arrival nothing remarkable happened till my perfect recovery; and then the siege being at an end, and Amelia being in some sort of fever, the governor gave me leave to attend my wife to Montpelier, the air of which was judged to be most likely to restore her to health.

"A fellow-officer, Captain James, willingly lent me money, and, after an ample recovery at Montpelier, and a stay in Paris, we returned to England. It was in Paris we received a long letter from Dr. Harrison, enclosing £100, and containing the news that Mrs. Harris was dead, and had left her whole fortune to Miss Betty. So now it was that I was a married man with children, and the half-pay of a lieutenant.

"Dr. Harrison, at whose rectory we were staying, came to our assistance. He asked me if I had any prospect of going again into the army; if not, what scheme of life I proposed to myself.

"I told him that as I had no powerful friends, I could have but little expectations in a military way; that I was incapable of thinking of any other scheme, for I was without the necessary knowledge or experience, and was likewise destitute of money to set up with.

"The doctor, after a little hesitation, said he had been thinking on this subject, and proposed to me to turn farmer. At the same time he offered to let me his parsonage, which was then become vacant; he said it was a farm which required but little stock, and that little should not be wanting.

"I embraced this offer very eagerly, and Amelia received the news with the highest transports of joy. Thus, you see me degraded from my former rank in life; no longer Captain Booth, but Farmer Booth.

"For a year all went well; love, health, and tranquillity filled our lives. Then a heavy blow befell us, and we were robbed of our dear friend the doctor, who was chosen to attend the young lord, the son of the patron of the living, in his travels as a tutor.

"By this means I was bereft not only of the best companion in the world, but of the best counsellor, and in consequence of this loss I fell into many errors.

"The first of these was in enlarging my business by adding a farm of one hundred a year to the parsonage, in renting which I had also as bad a bargain as the doctor had before given me a good one. The consequence of which was that whereas at the end of the first year I was £80 to the good, at the end of the second I was nearly £40 to the bad.

"A second folly I was guilty of was in uniting families with the curate of the parish, who had just married. We had not, however, lived one month together before I plainly perceived the curate's wife had taken a great prejudice against my wife, though my Amelia had treated her with nothing but kindness, and, with the mischievous nature of envy, spread dislike against us.

"My greatest folly, however, was the purchase of an old coach. The farmers and their wives considered that the setting up of a coach was the elevating ourselves above them, and immediately began to declare war against us. The neighbouring little squires, too, were uneasy to see a poor renter become their equal in a matter in which they placed so much dignity, and began to hate me likewise.

"My neighbours now began to conspire against me. Whatever I bought, I was sure to buy dearer, and when I sold, I was obliged to sell cheaper than any other. In fact, they were all united; and while they every day committed trespasses on my lands with impunity, if any of my cattle escaped into their fields I was either forced to enter into a law-suit or to make amends for the damage sustained.

"The consequence of all this could be no other than ruin. Before the end of four years I became involved in debt to the extent of £300. My landlord seized my stock for rent, and, to avoid immediate confinement in prison, I was forced to leave the country.

"In this condition I arrived in town a week ago. I had just taken a lodging, and had written my dear Amelia word where she might find me; and that very evening, as I was returning from a coffee-house, because I endeavoured to assist the injured party in an affray, I was seized by the watch and committed here by a justice of the peace."

_III.--Amelia in London_

Miss Matthews, being greatly drawn to Captain Booth, procured his discharge by the expenditure of £20, and obtained her own release at the same time.

Amelia arrived in London to receive her husband in her arms. "For," said she, "your confinement was known all over the county, my sister having spread the news with a malicious joy; and so, not hearing from you, I hastened to town with our children."

Poor Booth, in spite of his release, was very cast down. Seeing tears in his eyes at the sight of his children, Amelia, embracing him with rapturous fondness, cried out, "My dear Billy, let nothing make you uneasy. Heaven will provide for us and these poor babes. Great fortunes are not necessary to happiness. Make yourself easy, my dear love, for you have a wife who will think herself happy with you, and endeavour to make you so, in any situation. Fear nothing, Billy; industry will always provide us a wholesome meal."

Booth, who was naturally of a sanguine temper, took the cue she had given him, but he could not help reproaching himself as the cause of all her wretchedness. This it was that enervated his heart and threw him into agonies, which all that profusion of heroic tenderness that the most excellent of women intended for his comfort served only to heighten and aggravate: as the more she rose in his admiration, the more she quickened the sense of his unworthiness.

His affairs did not prosper; in vain he solicited a commission in the army. With no great man to back him, and with his friend, Captain James (now a colonel, and in London), too taken up with his own affairs to exert any influence on behalf of Booth, it seemed as though no escape from misery was possible. The beautiful Amelia, always patient and cheerful, remained his comforter. And Atkinson, now a sergeant in the guards, was the devoted servant of both Amelia and her husband.

Then one morning, when Amelia was out, Booth was arrested for debt and carried to the bailiff's house in Gray's Inn Lane.

"Who has done this barbarous action?" cries Amelia, when the news is told her by Sergeant Atkinson.

"One I am ashamed to name," cries the sergeant; "indeed, I had always a very different opinion of him; but Dr. Harrison is the man who has done the deed."

"Dr. Harrison!" cries Amelia. "Well, then, there is an end of all goodness in the world. I will never have a good opinion of any human being more!"

The fact was that while the doctor was abroad he had received from the curate, and from a gentleman of the neighbourhood, accounts of Booth's doings very much to his disadvantage. On his return to the parish these accusations were confirmed by many witnesses, and the whole neighbourhood rang with several gross and scandalous lies, which were merely the inventions of Booth's enemies. Poisoned with all this malice, the doctor came to London, and calling at Booth's lodgings, when both the captain and Amelia were out, learnt from the servant-maid that the children had got a gold watch and several fine trinkets. These presents, indeed, had come from a certain noble lord, who hoped by these means to win Amelia's affection; but no suspicion of his evil desire had entered the innocent mind of Amelia.

The doctor had no doubt that these trinkets had been purchased by Amelia; and this account tallied so well with the ideas he had imbibed of Booth's extravagance in the country, that he firmly believed both the husband and wife to be the vainest, silliest and most unjust people alive.

But no sooner did the doctor hear that Booth was arrested than the wretched condition of his wife and children began to affect his mind. In this temper of mind he resolved to pay Amelia a second visit, and was on his way thither when Sergeant Atkinson met him, and made himself known to him.

The doctor received from Atkinson such an account of Booth and his family that he hastened at once to Amelia, and soon became satisfied concerning the trinkets which had given him so much uneasiness. Amelia likewise gave the doctor some satisfaction as to what he had heard of her husband's behaviour In the country, and assured him, upon her honour, that Booth could answer every complaint against his conduct, so that the doctor would find him an innocent, unfortunate man, the object of a good man's compassion, not of his anger or resentment.

This worthy clergyman, who was not desirous of finding proofs to condemn the captain, rejoiced heartily in every piece of evidence which tended to clear up the character of his friend, and gave a ready ear to all which Amelia said.

Induced, indeed, by the love he always had for that lady, whom he was wont to call his daughter, as well as by pity for her present condition, the doctor immediately endeavoured to comfort the afflicted, and then proceeded to accomplish the captain's release.

"So, captain," says the doctor, on arrival at the bailiff's house, "when last we met I believe that we neither of us expected to meet in such a place as this."

"Indeed, doctor," cries Booth, "I did not expect to have been sent hither by the gentleman who did me this favour."

"How so, sir!" said the doctor. "You were sent hither by some person, I suppose, to whom you were indebted. But you ought to be more surprised that the gentleman who sent you thither is come to release you."

_IV.--Fortune Smiles on Amelia_

Booth was again arrested some months later, and lodged in the bailiff's house. This time his creditor was a Captain Trent, who had lent him money, and promised him assistance in getting returned to the army. In reality, Trent was only seeking to ingratiate himself with Amelia, and meeting with no encouragement, took his revenge accordingly.

Amelia at once sought out Dr. Harrison, and told him what had occurred to her husband; and the doctor set forwards to the bailiff's to see what he could do for Booth.

The doctor had not got so much money in town as Booth's debt amounted to, and therefore he was forced to give bail to the action.

While the necessary forms were being made out, the bailiff, addressing himself to the doctor, said, "Sir, there is a man above in a dying condition that desires the favour of speaking to you. I believe he wants you to pray by him."

Without making any further inquiry, the doctor immediately went upstairs.

The sick man mentioned his name, and explained that he lived for many years in the town where the doctor resided, and that he used to write for the attorneys in those parts. He was anxious, he said, as he hoped for forgiveness, to make all the amends he could to some one he had injured, and to undo, if possible, the injury he had done.

The doctor commended this as a sincere repentance.

"You know, good doctor," the sick man resumed, "that Mrs. Harris, of our town, had two daughters--one now Mrs. Booth, and another. Before Mrs. Harris died, she made a will, and left all her fortune, except £1,000, to Mrs. Booth, to which will Mr. Murphy, the lawyer, myself, and another were witnesses. Mrs. Harris afterwards died suddenly, upon which it was contrived, by her other daughter and Mr. Murphy, to make a new will, in which Mrs. Booth had a legacy of £10, and all the rest was given to the other."

"Good heaven, how wonderful is thy providence!" cries the doctor. "Murphy, say you? Why, this Murphy is still my attorney."

Within a short time Murphy was arrested, and the sick man's depositions taken. Booth was released on the doctor's bail, and on the following morning Amelia learnt of the change in fortune that had befallen them.

Dr. Harrison himself broke the good news by reading the following paragraph from the newspaper.

"Yesterday, one Murphy, an eminent attorney-at-law, was committed to Newgate for the forgery of a will, under which an estate has been for many years detained from the right owner."

"Now," said the doctor, "in this paragraph there is something very remarkable, and that is that it is true. But now let us read the following note upon the words 'right owner.' 'The right owner of this estate is a young lady of the highest merit, whose maiden name was Harris, and who some time since was married to an idle fellow, one Lieutenant Booth; and the best historians assure us that letters from the elder sister of this lady, which manifestly prove the forgery and clear up the whole affair, are in the hands of an old parson, called Dr. Harrison.'"

"And is this really true?" cries Amelia.

"Yes, really and sincerely," cries the doctor, "the whole estate--for your mother left it you all; and it is as surely yours as if you were already in possession."