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LETTER XXIV.

MR. MOWBRAY, TO ROBERT LOVELACE, ESQ.

DEAR LOVELACE,

Wednesday, Twelve o'clock.

HAVE plaguy news to acquaint thee with. Miss Harlowe is gone off!--Quite gone, by soul!-I have particulars, your servant being gone off.

not time for But iff I had,

The

we are not yet come to the bottom of the matter. ladies here are all blubbering like devills, accusing one another most confoundedly: whilst Belton and I damn them all together in thy name.

If thou shouldst hear that thy fellow Will. is taken dead out of some horse-pond, and Dorcas cut down from her bed's teaster, from danglang in her own garters, be not surprised Here's the devil to pay. Nobody serene but Jack Belford, who is taking minutes of examinations, accusations, and confessions, with the significant air of a Middlesex Justice; and intends to write at large all particulars, I suppose.

But it

I heartily condole with thee: so does Belton. may turn out for the best: for she is gone away with thy marks, I understand. A foolish little devil!! Where will she mend herself? for nobody will look upon her. And they tell me that thou wouldst certainly have married her, had she staid. But I know thee better.

Dear Bobby, adieu. If Lord M. will die now, to comfort thee for this loss, what a seasonable exit would he make! Let's have a letter from thee. Pr'ythee do. Thou can'st write devill-like to Belford, who shews us nothing at all. Thine heartily,

VOL. VI.

RD. MOWBRAY.

H

LETTER XXV.

MR. BELFORD, TO ROBERT LOVELACE, ESQ.

HOU

Thursday, June 29. Thou hast heard from M'Donald and Mowbray the news. Bad or good, I know not which thou ́lt deem it. I only wish I could have given thee joy upon the same account, before the unhappy lady was seduced from Hampstead: for then of what an ungrateful villany hadst thou been spared the perpetration, which now thou hast to answer for!

I came to town purely to serve thee with her, expecting that thy next would satisfy me that I might endeavour it And at first when I found her gone, without dishonour. I half pitied thee; for now wilt thou be inevitably blown up and in what an execrable light wilt thou appear to all the world! - Poor Lovelace! caught in thy own snares! thy punishment is but beginning.

But to my narrative: for I suppose thou expectest all particulars from me, since Mowbray has informed thee that I have been collecting them.

The noble exertion of spirit she had made on Friday 'night, had, it seems, greatly disordered her; insomuch

that she was not visible till Saturday evening; when 'Mabell saw her; and she seemed to be very ill : but on

Sunday morning, having dressed herself, as if designing to go to church, she ordered Mabell to get her a coach to the door.

The wench told her, She was to obey her in every thing but the calling of a coach or chair, or in relation to letters.

She sent for Will. and gave him the same command.

'He pleaded his master's orders to the contrary, and desired to be excused.

Upon this, down she went, herself, and would have ( gone out without observation: but finding the street'door double-locked, and the key not in the lock, she stept into the street-parlour, and would have thrown up the sash to call out to the people passing by, as they 'doubted not; but that, since her last attempt of the same nature, had been fastened down.

'Hereupon she resolutely stept into Mrs. Sinclair's parlour in the back-house; where were the old devil and her two partners; and demanded the key of the street. 'door, or to have it opened for her.

They were all surprised; but desired to be excused, ' and pleaded your orders.

'She asserted, that you had no authority over her; and ( never should have any that their present refusal was their own act and deed: she saw the intent of their back ( house, and the reason of putting her there: she pleaded her condition and fortune; and said, they had no way to avoid utter ruin, but by opening their doors to her, 6 or by murdering her, and burying her in their garden or ' cellar, too deep for detection: that already what had 'been done to her was punishable by death and bid them ' at their peril detain her.'

What a noble, what a right spirit has this charming creature, in cases that will justify an exertion of spirit!

6 They answered that Mr. Lovelace could prove his 'marriage, and would indemnify them. And they all would have vindicated their behaviour on Friday night, ' and the reputation of their house. But refusing to hear them on that topic, she flung from them threatening.

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She then went up half a dozen stairs in her way to her own apartment: but, as if she had bethought herself, down she stept again, and proceeded towards the streetparlour; saying, as she passed by the infamous Dorcas, 'I'll make myself protectors, though the windows suffer. But that wench, of her own head, on the lady's going out of that parlour to Mrs. Sinclair's, had locked the door, and taken out the key: so that finding herself disap6 pointed, she burst into tears, and went sobbing and me" nacing up stairs again.

She made no other attempt till the effectual one. Your ' letters and messages, they suppose, coming so fast upon C one another (though she would not answer one of them) gave her some amusement, and an assurance to them, that she would at last forgive you; and that then all 'would end as you wished.

• The women, in pursuance of your orders, offered not to obtrude themselves upon her ; and Dorcas also kept "out of her sight all the rest of Sunday; also on Monday and Tuesday. But by the lady's condescension, (even to familiarity) to Mabell, they imagined, that she must be working in her mind all that time to get away. They 'therefore redoubled their cautions to the wench; who 'told them so faithfully all that passed between her lady and her, that they had no doubt of her fidelity to her wicked trust.

'Tis probable she might have been contriving something all this time; but saw no room for perfecting auy scheme. The contrivance by which she effected her 6 escape seems to me not to have been fallen upon till the very day; since it depended partly upon the weather, 6 as it proved. But it is evident she hoped something

'from Mabell's simplicity, or gratitude, or compassion, ' by cultivating all the time her civility to her.

Polly waited on her early on Wednesday morning; and met with a better reception than she had reason to expect. She complained however, with warmth, of her 'coufinement. Polly said there would be an happy end 'to it (if it were a confinement,) next day, she presumed. 'She absolutely declared to the contrary, in the way Polly meant it; and said, That Mr. Lovelace, on his ' return [which looked as if she intended to wait for 'it] should have reason to repent the orders he had given, 6 as they all should their observance of them: let him 'send twenty letters, she would not answer one, be the 6 consequence what it would; nor give him hope of the ' least favour, while she was in that house. She had given 'Mrs. Sinclair and themselves fair warning, she said: 6 no orders of another ought to make them detain a free ( person but having made an open attempt to go, and 'been detained by them, she was the calmer, she told 'Polly; let them look to the consequence.

'But yet she spoke this with temper; and Polly gave it as her opinion, (with apprehension for their own 'safety,) that having so good a handle to punish them all,

she would not go away if she might. And what, infer. 'red Polly, is the indemnity of a man who has committed the vilest of rapes on a person of condition; and must 6 himself, if prosecuted for it, either fly, or be hanged? Sinclair, [so I will still call her,] upon this represen'tation of Polly, foresaw, she said, the ruin of her poor 'house in the issue of this strange business; and the in. 'famous Sally and Dorcas bore their parts in the appre

hension: and this put them upon thinking it advisable ' for the future, that the street-door should generally in