The Adventures of Ferdinand Count Fathom — Complete
raised our adventurer into the sphere of a dangerous rival, but also
furnished him with means to revenge the ill office he had sustained at
his hands on the adventure of the former match—for, by this time,
Fathom had given him some hints, importing, that he was not ignorant of
his treacherous behaviour—roused, I say, by these considerations, he
employed one of his emissaries, who had some knowledge of Fathom’s
brother-in-law, to prejudice him against our adventurer, whom he
represented as a needy sharper, not only overwhelmed with debt and
disgrace, but likewise previously married to a poor woman, who was
prevented by nothing but want from seeking redress at law. To confirm
these assertions, he gave him a detail of Fathom’s encumbrances, which
he had learned for the purpose, and even brought the counsellor into
company with the person who had lived with our hero before marriage,
and who was so much incensed at her abrupt dismission, that she did not
scruple to corroborate these allegations of the informer.
The lawyer, startled at this intelligence, set on foot a minute inquiry
into the life and conversation of the doctor, which turned out so
little to the advantage of his character and circumstances, that he
resolved, if possible, to disunite him from his family; and, as a
previous step, repeated to his sister all that he had heard to the
prejudice of her husband, not forgetting to produce the evidence of his
mistress, who laid claim to him by a prior title, which, she pretended,
could be proved by the testimony of the clergyman who joined them. Such
an explanation could not fail to inflame the resentment of the injured
wife, who, at the very first opportunity, giving a loose to the
impetuosity of her temper, upbraided our hero with the most bitter
invectives for his perfidious dealing.
Ferdinand, conscious of his own innocence, which he had not always to
plead, far from attempting to soothe her indignation, assumed the
authority and prerogative of a husband, and sharply reprehended her for
her credulity and indecent warmth. This rebuke, instead of silencing,
gave new spirit and volubility to her reproaches, in the course of
which she plainly taxed him with want of honesty and affection, and
said that, though his pretence was love, his aim was no other than a
base design upon her fortune.
Fathom, stung with these accusations, which he really did not deserve,
replied with uncommon heat, and charged her in his turn with want of
sincerity and candour, in the false account she had given of that same
fortune before marriage. He even magnified his own condescension, in
surrendering his liberty to a woman who had so little to recommend her
to the addresses of the other sex; a reflection which provoked this
mild creature to such a degree of animosity, that, forgetting her duty
and allegiance, she lent him a box on the ear with such energy as made
his eyes water; and he, for the honour of manhood and sovereignty,
having washed her face with a dish of tea, withdrew abruptly to a
coffee-house in the neighbourhood, where he had not long remained, when
his passion subsided, and he then saw the expediency of an immediate
reconciliation, which he resolved to purchase, even at the expense of a
submission.
It was pity that such a salutary resolution had not been sooner taken.
For, when he returned to his own house, he understood, that Mrs. Fathom
had gone abroad in a hackney-coach; and, upon examining her apartment,
in lieu of her clothes and trinkets, which she had removed with
admirable dexterity and despatch, he found this billet in one of the
drawers of her bureau:—“Sir, being convinced that you are a cheat and
an impostor, I have withdrawn myself from your cruelty and
machinations, with a view to solicit the protection of the law; and I
doubt not but I shall soon be able to prove, that you have no just
title to, or demand upon, the person or effects of the unfortunate
Sarah Muddy.”
The time had been when Mr. Fathom would have allowed Mrs. Muddy to
refine at her leisure, and blessed God for his happy deliverance; but
at present the case was quite altered. Smarting as he was from the
expense of lawsuits, he dreaded a prosecution for bigamy, which, though
he had justice on his side, he knew he could not of himself support.
Besides, all his other schemes of life were frustrated by this unlucky
elopement. He therefore speedily determined to anticipate, as much as
in him lay, the malice of his enemies, and to obtain, without delay,
authentic documents of his marriage. With this view, he hastened to the
house of the tradesman, who, with his wife, had been witness to the
ceremony and consummation; and, in order to interest them the more
warmly in his cause, made a pathetic recital of this unhappy breach, in
which he had suffered such injury and insult. But all his rhetoric
would not avail. Mrs. Muddy had been beforehand with him, and had
proved the better orator of the two; for she had assailed this honest
couple with such tropes and figures of eloquence, as were altogether
irresistible.
Nevertheless, they heard our hero to an end, with great patience. Then
the wife, who was the common mouth upon all such occasions, contracting
her features into a very formal disposition, “I’ll assure you,” said
she, “Doctor Fathom, my husband and I have been in a very great
terrification and numplush, to hear such bad things of a person, whom,
as one may say, we thought a worthy gentleman, and were ready to serve
at all times, by day and by night, as the saying is. And besides, for
all that, you know, and God knows, as we are dustrious people, and work
hard for what we get, and we have served gentlemen to our own harm,
whereby my husband was last Tuesday served with a siserary, being that
he was bound for an officer that ran away. And I said to my husband,
Timothy, says I, ’tis a very hard thing for one to ruin one’s self for
stranger people—There’s Doctor Fathom, says I, his account comes to
nine-and-forty pounds seven shillings and fourpence halfpenny; and you
know, doctor, that was before your last bill began. But, howsomever,
little did I think, as how a gentleman of your learning would go to
deceive a poor gentlewoman, when you had another wife alive.”
In vain did our adventurer endeavour to vindicate himself from this
aspersion; the good woman, like a great many modern disputants,
proceeded with her declamation, without seeming to hear what was said
on the other side of the question; and the husband was altogether
neutral. At length, Ferdinand, finding all his protestations
ineffectual, “Well,” said he, “though you are resolved, I see, to
discredit all that I can say in opposition to that scandalous slander,
of which I can easily acquit myself in a court of justice, surely you
will not refuse to grant me a certificate, signifying that you were
present at the ceremony of my marriage with this unhappy woman.” “You
shall excuse us,” replied the female orator; “people cannot be too wary
in signing their names in this wicked world; many a one has been
brought to ruination by signing his name, and my husband shall not,
with my goodwill, draw himself into such a primmineery.”
Fathom, alarmed at this refusal, earnestly argued against the
inhumanity and injustice of it, appealing to their own consciences for
the reasonableness of his proposal; but, from the evasive answers of
the wife, he had reason to believe, that, long before the time of
trial, they would take care to have forgotten the whole transaction.
Though he was equally confounded and incensed at this instance of their
perfidy, he durst not manifest his indignation, conscious of the
advantage they had over him in divers respects; but repaired, without
loss of time, to the lodging of the clergyman who had noosed him,
resolved to consult his register, and secure his evidence. Here too his
evil genius had got the start of him; for the worthy ecclesiastic not
only could not recollect his features, or find his name in the
register, but, when importuned by his pressing remonstrances, took
umbrage at the freedom of his behaviour, and threatened, if he would
not immediately take himself away, to raise the posse of the Fleet, for
the safety of his own person.
Rather than put the pastor to the trouble of alarming his flock, he
retreated with a heavy heart, and went in quest of his mistress, whom
he had dismissed at his marriage, in hopes of effecting a
reconciliation, and preventing her from joining in the conspiracy
against him. But, alas! he met with such a reception as he had reason
to expect from a slighted woman, who had never felt any real attachment
for his person. She did not upbraid him with his cruelty in leaving her
as a mistress, but, with a species of effrontery never enough to be
admired, reproached him with his villany, in abandoning her, who was
his true and lawful wife, to go and ruin a poor gentlewoman, by whose
fortune he had been allured.
When he attempted to expostulate with this virago, upon the barbarity
of this assertion, she very prudently declined engaging in private
conversation with such an artful and wicked man; and, calling up the
people of the house, insisted upon his being conducted to the door.
CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX
IN WHICH HIS FORTUNE IS EFFECTUALLY STRANGLED.
The last resource, and that upon which he least depended, was the
advice and assistance of his old friend the empiric, with whom he still
maintained a slight correspondence; and to whose house he steered his
course, in great perplexity and tribulation. That gentleman, instead of
consoling him with assurances of friendship and protection, faithfully
recapitulated all the instances of his indiscretion and misconduct,
taxed him with want of sincerity in the West India affair, as well as
with want of honesty in this last marriage, while his former wife was
alive; and, finally, reminded him of his notes, which he desired might
be immediately taken up, as he (the quack) had present occasion for a
sum of money.
Ferdinand, seeing it would be impracticable to derive any succour from
this quarter, sneaked homewards, in order to hold a consultation with
his own thoughts; and the first object that presented itself to his
eyes when he entered his apartment, was a letter from the tradesman,
with his account inclosed, amounting to forty-five pounds, which the
writer desired might be paid without delay. Before he had time to
peruse the articles, he received a summons, in consequence of a bill of
indictment for bigamy, found against him in Hicks’ Hall, by Sarah
Muddy, widow; and, while he was revolving measures to avert these
storms, another billet arrived from a certain attorney, giving him to
understand, that he had orders from Doctor Buffalo, the quack, to sue
him for the payment of several notes, unless he would take them up in
three days from the date of this letter.
Such a concurrence of sinister events made a deep impression upon the
mind of our adventurer. All his fortitude was insufficient to bear him
up against this torrent of misfortunes; his resources were all dried
up, his invention failed, and his reflection began to take a new turn.
“To what purpose,” said he to himself, “have I deserted the paths of
integrity and truth, and exhausted a fruitful imagination, in
contriving schemes to betray my fellow-creatures, if, instead of
acquiring a splendid fortune, which was my aim, I have suffered such a
series of mortifications, and at last brought myself to the brink of
inevitable destruction? By a virtuous exertion of those talents I
inherit from nature and education, I might, long before this time, have
rendered myself independent, and, perhaps, conspicuous in life. I might
have grown up like a young oak, which, being firmly rooted in its