Chapter LVII
My new career is not very prosperous at its commencement—I am robbed, and accused of being a robber—I bind up wounds, and am accused of having inflicted them—I get into a horse-pond, and out of it into gaol.
I had proceeded half a mile from the house, when I desired the servant to turn into a cross-road so as to gain Brentford; and, so soon as I arrived, the distance being only four miles, I ordered him to stop at a public-house, saying that I would wait till the coach should pass by. I then gave him half-a-crown, and ordered him to go home. I went into the inn with my portmanteau, and was shown into a small back parlour; there I remained about half an hour reflecting upon the best plan that I could adopt.
Leaving the ale that I had called for untasted, I paid for it, and, with the portmanteau on my shoulder, I walked away until I arrived at an old clothes' shop. I told the Jew who kept it, that I required some clothes, and also wanted to dispose of my own portmanteau and all my effects. I had a great rogue to deal with; but after much chaffering, for I now felt the value of money, I purchased from him two pair of corduroy trousers, two waistcoats, four common shirts, four pairs of stockings, a smock frock, a pair of high-lows, and a common hat. For these I gave up all my portmanteau, with the exception of six silk handkerchiefs, and received fifty shillings, when I ought to have received, at least, ten pounds; but I could not well help myself, and I submitted to the extortion. I dressed myself in my more humble garments, securing my money in the pocket of my trousers unobserved by the Jew, made up a bundle of the rest, and procured a stick from the Jew to carry it on, however not without paying him three-pence for it, he observing that the stick "wash not in de bargain." Thus attired, I had the appearance of a countryman well to do, and I set off through the long dirty main street of Brentford, quite undecided and indifferent as to the direction I should take. I walked about a mile, when I thought that it was better to come to some decision previous to my going farther; and perceiving a bench in front of a public-house, I went to it and sat down. I looked around, and it immediately came to my recollection that I was sitting on the very bench on which Timothy and I had stopped to eat our meal of pork, at our first outset upon our travels. Yes, it was the very same! Here sat I, and there sat Timothy, two heedless boys, with the paper containing the meat, the loaf of bread, and the pot of beer between us. Poor Timothy! I conjured up his unhappiness when he had received my note acquainting him with our future separation. I remembered his fidelity, his courage in defence, and his preservation of my life in Ireland, and a tear or two coursed down my cheek.
I remained some time in a deep reverie, during which the various circumstances and adventures of my life were passed in a rapid panorama before me. I felt that I had little to plead in my own favour, much to condemn—that I had passed a life of fraud and deceit. I also could not forget that when I had returned to honesty, I had been scouted by the world. "And here I am," thought I, "once more with the world before me; and it is just that I should commence again, for I started in a wrong path. At least, now I can satisfactorily assert that I am deceiving nobody, and can deservedly receive no contumely. I am Japhet Newland, and not in disguise." I felt happy with this reflection, and made a determination, whatever my future lot might be, that, at least, I would pursue the path of honesty. I then began to reflect upon another point, which was, whither I should bend my steps, and what I should do to gain my livelihood.
Alas! that was a subject of no little difficulty to me. A person who has been brought up to a profession naturally reverts to that profession—but to what had I been brought up? As an apothecary—true; but I well knew the difficulty of obtaining employment in what is termed a liberal profession, without interest or recommendation; neither did I wish for close confinement, as the very idea was irksome. As a mountebank, a juggler, a quack doctor—I spurned the very idea. It was a system of fraud and deceit. What then could I do? I could not dig, to beg I was ashamed. I must trust to the chapter of accidents, and considering how helpless I was, such trust was but a broken reed. At all events, I had a sufficient sum of money, upwards of twenty pounds, to exist upon with economy for some time. I was interrupted by a voice calling out, "Hilloa! my lad, come and hold this horse a moment." I looked up and perceived a person on horseback looking at me. "Do you hear, or are you stupid?" cried the man. My first feeling was to knock him down for his impertinence, but my bundle lying beside, reminded me of my situation and appearance, and I rose and walked towards the horse. The gentleman, for such he was in appearance, dismounted, and throwing the rein on the horse's neck, told me to stand by him for half a minute. He went into a respectable-looking house opposite the inn, and remained nearly half an hour, during which I was becoming very impatient, and kept an anxious eye upon my bundle, which lay on the seat. At last he came out, and mounting his horse looked in my face with some degree of surprise. "Why, what are you?" said he, as he pulled out a sixpence, and tendered it to me.
I was again nearly forgetting myself, affronted at the idea of sixpence being offered to me; but I recovered myself, saying, as I took it, "A poor labouring man, sir."
"What, with those hands?" said he, looking at them as I took the money; and then looking at my face, he continued, "I think we have met before, my lad—I cannot be sure; you know best—I am a Bow Street magistrate."
In a moment, I remembered that he was the very magistrate before whom I had twice made my appearance. I coloured deeply, and made no reply.
"Well, my lad, I'm not on my bench now, and this sixpence you have earned honestly. I trust you will continue in the right path. Be careful—I have sharp eyes." So saying, he rode off.
I never felt more mortified. It was evident that he considered me as one who was acting a part for unworthy purposes; perhaps one of the swell mob or a flash pickpocket rusticating until some hue and cry was over. "Well, well," thought I, as I took up a lump of dirt and rubbed over my then white hands, "it is my fate to be believed when I deceive, and to be mistrusted when I am acting honestly;" and I returned to the bench for my bundle, which—was gone. I stared with astonishment. "Is it possible?" thought I. "How dishonest people are! Well, I will not carry another for the present. They might as well have left me my stick." So thinking, and without any great degree of annoyance at the loss, I turned from the bench and walked away, I knew not whither. It was now getting dark, but I quite forgot that it was necessary to look out for a lodging; the fact is, that I had been completely upset by the observations of the magistrate, and the theft of my bundle; and, in a sort of brown study, from which I was occasionally recalled for a moment by stumbling over various obstructions, I continued my walk on the pathway until I was two or three miles away from Brentford. I was within a mile of Hounslow, when I was roused by the groans of some person, and it being now dark I looked round, trying to catch by the ear the direction in which to offer my assistance. They proceeded from the other side of a hedge, and I crawled through, where I found a man lying on the ground, covered with blood about the head, and breathing heavily. I untied his neckcloth, and, as well as I could, examined his condition. I bound his handkerchief round his head, and perceiving that the position in which he was lying was very unfavourable, his head and shoulders being much lower than his body, I was dragging the body round so as to raise those parts, when I heard footsteps and voices. Shortly after, four people burst through the hedge and surrounded me.
"That is him, I'll swear to it," cried an immense stout man, seizing me; "that is the other fellow who attacked me, and ran away. He has come to get off his accomplice, and now we've just nicked them both."
"You are very much mistaken," replied I, "and you have no need to hold me so tight. I heard the man groan, and I came to his assistance."
"That gammon won't do," replied one of them, who was a constable; "you'll come along with us, and we may as well put on the darbies," continued he, producing a pair of handcuffs.
Indignant at the insult, I suddenly broke from him who held me, and darting at the constable, knocked him down, and then took to my heels across the ploughed field. The whole four pursued, but I rather gained upon them, and was in hopes to make my escape. I ran for a gap I perceived in the hedge, and sprang over it, without minding the old adage, of "look before you leap;" for, when on the other side, I found myself in a deep and stagnant pit of water and mud. I sank over head, and with difficulty extricated myself from the mud at the bottom, and when at the surface I was equally embarrassed with the weeds at the top, among which I floundered. In the meantime my pursuers, warned by the loud splash, had paused when they came to the hedge, and perceiving my situation, were at the brink of the pit watching for my coming out. All resistance was useless. I was numbed with cold and exhausted by my struggles, and when I gained the bank I surrendered at discretion.