The lighted paper (as I concluded it would) attracted the man’s notice, he stopped and took it up, and finding another paper hanging to the string, looked up at the window. I leaned my body out as far as I could, and, in a low voice, but loud enough for him to hear me, bid him read it. He opened the paper, and, by the light of his own lantern, read the lines, at the same time taking out the guineas, which I could perceive he also examined by the same light. He then said, I’ll help you, stay a little.
He made what haste he could away, and I was now afraid he intended to leave me, and return no more. My terror was inexpressible during the man’s absence, especially as several people in that interval passed by; however, he soon returned with a companion; and the street being now clear, I saw he had brought a sort of plank, or board, under his arm, which he fixed from the iron pallisados a-cross to the stone-work which jutted out from the bottom of the lower windows, on this he without difficulty mounted, and being now much nearer to me, he told me he would receive me, if I could contrive to get down to him.
My poor father hastily kissed, and blessed me, and having my apparatus ready for descending, he had the farther precaution to fix some strong ribbons, which I had tied together for the purpose under my arms; these he held in his hands, whilst I slid down by the sheets which I had fastened together corner-ways with a knot.
The trusty watchman caught me in his arms, and lifted me over the pallisados, to his comrade, who set me safely down in the street.
It was very dark, but I could distinguish when my father drew in the linen, and heard him shut the window. I then told my deliverer that I must beg a farther act of kindness from him, which was to see me safe to the street where I wanted to go.
He readily complied, and leaving it to his comrade to carry away the plank, took me under the arm, and we got without being molested to the mantua-maker’s house. The family were all in bed; when after repeated knocking, a maid looked out of an upper window, and asked us what we wanted. I told her an acquaintance of her mistress had urgent business with her, and begged she would step down and speak to me from the parlour window. After keeping me a long while waiting, she at length came down, I then gave the watchman the other guinea I had promised him, and dismissed him, very well pleased with his night’s adventure.
After he was gone, I told the woman my name, and begged she would let me come in, which she immediately did. I without scruple acquainted her with the manner of my escape, and the occasion of it; she was shocked and affected with my story, and promised to keep me concealed till my father should come to carry me to some place of greater safety; for she said, as Mr Ware’s house-keeper was her acquaintance I might be discovered at her house.
This terrified me exceedingly, but the good-natured woman gave me the most solemn assurances that I should be safe for the short time she supposed I should stay with her. She invited me to part of her bed, as she told me she had never a spare one, and I readily accepted of her offer.
I remained all the next day in the utmost grief and anxiety, at hearing nothing from my poor father. In the evening of the second day, a porter brought a letter to the mantua-maker, which served only as a cover for a note directed to me. Seeing it writ in my father’s hand, I eagerly opened it; but oh, Madam, how shall I tell you my grief, and horror, when I saw it dated from a prison! My poor father told me, that our cruel persecutor, enraged at my escape, had charged my father with it, who immediately acknowleged he had assisted in delivering me from ruin; that Mr Ware, after treating him with the most injurious language, demanded payment of him for the sums he said he had lent him from time to time since his father’s death.
To this my father making no other reply, than that Mr Ware knew he had it not in his power to refund any of that money, which, though it was a free gift, he would restore sooner than lie under any obligation to such a base man, the villain was barbarous enough to have him arrested, and sent to jail, where he said he should remain till his stubborn spirit should be glad to yield up his daughter to him.