The Adventures of Ferdinand Count Fathom — Complete
disgrace of a legal conviction, his Catholic Majesty was now convinced
of Don Diego’s innocence, and granted him leave to return and take
possession of his honours and estate. This information was confirmed by
the secretary, who assured him that the ambassador had orders to make
him acquainted with this favourable decision of the King. The Castilian
having first acquitted himself in the most polite terms to the
secretary and the Jew, who, he said, had always been a messenger of
glad tidings, communicated his happiness to the company; and this
evening concluded the third day of their rejoicing.
Next morning Don Diego went to visit the ambassador, accompanied by
Joshua and the secretary; while the physician, repairing to the
habitation of Fathom, signified, by Renaldo’s direction, the resolution
which had been taken in his behalf; and the patient no sooner heard his
doom, than, lifting up his hands, he cried, “I am unworthy of such
tenderness and benevolence.” While Elenor shed a flood of tears in
silence, unable to give utterance to her grateful thought; Melvil’s
bounty having so far transcended her most sanguine hope.
The Spaniard having paid his devoirs to his Excellency, returned before
dinner; and, in the afternoon, desiring a private conference with
Serafina, they retired into another apartment, and he expressed himself
to this effect: “You have contracted, my dear child, an habit of
calling Madam Clement your mother, and doubtless, by her maternal
tenderness and regard, she hath acquired a just title to the
appellation. Yet I own I would fain strengthen it by a legal claim. I
no sooner retrieved my daughter than I gave her away to the most
deserving youth that ever sighed with love.—I rejoice in the gift which
secured your happiness. But I left myself in a solitary situation,
which even the return of my good fortune cannot render easy and
supportable. When I revisit the Castle of Zelos, every well-known
object will recall the memory of my Antonia, and I shall want a
companion to fill her place, and to sympathise with me in that sorrow
which will be derived from my remembrance. Who is there so worthy to
succeed your mother in the affection of Don Diego, as she who interests
her love for Serafina, and resembles her so strongly in every virtue of
the sex? Similar attractions will produce similar effects. My heart is
already attached to that good lady; and, provided Serafina shall
approve of my choice, I will lay myself and fortune at her feet.”
The fair Countess replied, with an enchanting smile, that, before this
declaration, she had with pleasure perceived the progress which Madam
Clement had made in his heart; and that she did not believe there was a
person upon earth better qualified to repair the loss he had sustained;
though she foresaw one obstacle to his happiness, which she was afraid
would not be easily surmounted. “You mean,” answered the Castilian,
“the difference of religion, which I am resolved to remove by adopting
the Protestant faith; though I am fully satisfied that real goodness is
of no particular persuasion, and that salvation cannot depend upon
belief, over which the will has no influence. I invest you, therefore,
with the charge of declaring my passion and proposal, and empower you
to satisfy her scruples with regard to the religion which I now
profess, and which I shall not openly relinquish, until I shall have
secured, in this country, effects sufficient to screen me from the ill
consequences of my King’s displeasure.”
Serafina undertook this office with pleasure, because she had reason to
think his addresses would not be disagreeable to Madam Clement; and
that same night made the Count acquainted with the nature of her
commission. Nor was her expectation disappointed. The French lady, with
that frankness which is peculiar to virtue and good breeding, confessed
that Don Diego was not indifferent to her choice, and did not hesitate
in receiving him upon the footing of a lover.—As we have already dwelt
circumstantially on the passion of love, so as perhaps even to have
tired our readers, we shall not repeat the dialogue that passed, when
the Spaniard was indulged with an opportunity to explain his
sentiments. Suffice it to observe, that the lady’s days of coquetry
were now over, and that she was too wise to trifle with the time, which
every moment became more and more precious. It was agreed then, that
Don Diego should settle his affairs in Spain, and return to England, in
order to espouse Madam Clement, with a view to fix his residence in
this island, where Renaldo likewise proposed to enjoy the sweets of his
fortune, provided he could draw hither his interests and connexions.
Meanwhile, having for some days enjoyed his bliss with all the fulness
of rapture amidst this small but agreeable society, he shifted the
scene, and conducted his dear partner to a ready-furnished house in
town, which, together with an occasional equipage, his friend Joshua
had hired for the accommodation of him and his father-in-law, who,
during his stay in England, failed not to cultivate the mistress of his
heart with the most punctual assiduity. Hitherto Serafina had been as a
precious jewel locked up in a casket, which the owner alone had an
opportunity to contemplate. But now the Count, who was proud of such a
prize, resolved to let her shine forth to the admiration of the whole
world. With this view he bespoke such ornaments as befitted her
quality, and, while the mantua-makers were employed in her service,
made a tour among his former acquaintance, and discharged the
obligations under which he lay to some who had assisted him in his
distress. He did not, however, introduce them to his charming Serafina;
because not one of them had formerly treated her with that delicacy of
regard which he thought her due; and some of them were much mortified
at their neglect, when they saw what a dazzling figure she made in the
beau monde.
She was visited by the Spanish and Imperial ambassadors, and divers
other foreigners of distinction, to whom Melvil had letters of
recommendation. But her first public appearance was in a box at the
opera, accompanied by Madam Clement, the Count, and Don Diego. The
entertainment was already begun, so that her entrance had the greater
effect upon the audience, whose attention was soon detached from the
performance, and riveted upon this amiable apparition, which seemed to
be some bright being of another world dropped from the clouds among
them. Then did the spirit of curiosity play its part. A thousand
whispers circulated; as many glasses were exalted to reconnoitre this
box of foreigners; for such they concluded them to be from their
appearance. Every male spectator acknowledged Serafina to be the
paragon of beauty; and every female confessed, that Melvil was the
model of a fine gentleman. The charms of the young Countess did not
escape the eye and approbation of royalty itself; and when her rank was
known, from the information of the ambassadors and other people of
condition who were seen saluting her at a distance, that same evening a
thousand bumpers were swallowed in honour of the Countess de Melvil.
The fame of her beauty was immediately extended over this immense
metropolis, and different schemes were concerted for bringing her into
life. These, however, she resisted with unwearied obstinacy. Her
happiness centred in Renaldo, and the cultivation of a few friends
within the shade of domestic quiet. She did not even forget the
concerns of the wretched Fathom and his faithful Elenor, who daily
enjoyed fresh instances of her humanity and care. When his fever
forsook him, he was supplied with nourishing food for the recovery of
his health; and as soon as he found himself in a condition to travel,
he gave notice to his benefactor, who desired Joshua to settle with him
the manner in which he was to receive his allowance, and to pay the
first half-year’s salary per advance.
This affair being adjusted, and the place of his retreat signified, the
Jew told Elenor, that she might wait upon the Countess before their
departure; and she did not fail to make use of this permission. After
they had made the necessary preparations for their journey, and taken
places in the York stage-coach, Mrs. Fathom, clothing herself in decent
apparel, went to the house of Count Melvil, and was immediately
admitted to the presence of Serafina, who received her with her usual
complacency, enriched her with salutary advice, comforted her with the
hope of better things, provided her conduct and that of her husband
should henceforth be found irreproachable; and, wishing her peace and
happiness, presented her with a box of linen, and twenty guineas in a
purse. Such excessive goodness overpowered this sensible young woman to
such a degree, that she stood before her in speechless awe and
veneration; and the Countess, in order to relieve her from the
confusion under which she suffered, quitted the room, leaving her to
the care of her woman. It was not long, however, before her gratitude
broke out in loud exclamations and a violent passion of tears, which
all her efforts could not, for a while, overcome. By this time the
coach was brought up to the gate for the reception of Serafina, who
took an airing every day at the same hour; when Renaldo, leading her to
the vehicle, beheld a man plainly dressed standing within the court,
with his head and body bent towards the earth, so that his countenance
could not be perceived.
Melvil, who supposed him to be some unfortunate man come to implore his
charity, turned towards him, and asked with a humane accent, if he
wanted to speak with any person in the house? To this interrogation the
stranger replied, without lifting up his head, “Overwhelmed as I am
with Count Melvil’s generosity, together with a consciousness of my own
unworthiness, it ill becomes a wretch like me to importune him for
further favour; yet I could not bear the thought of withdrawing,
perhaps for ever, from the presence of my benefactor, without
soliciting his permission to see his face in mercy, to acknowledge my
atrocious crimes, to hear my pardon confirmed by his voice, and that of
his accomplished Countess, whom I dare not even at a distance behold;
and to express my fervent wish for their prosperity.”
Melvil, whose heart was but too tender, could not hear this address
without emotion. He recognised the companion of his infancy and youth;
he remembered the happy scenes he had enjoyed with Fathom, whose voice
had always such an effect upon his ear, as to excite the ideas of
friendship and esteem; and he was disturbed by this unexpected meeting,
which also discomposed the beauteous Serafina. Renaldo having paused a
little, “It is with pain,” said he, “I recollect anything to the
prejudice of Fathom, whose future behaviour will, I hope, erase the
memory of his offences, and justify what other steps I may take in his
favour. Meanwhile, I heartily forgive what is past; and, in token of my
sincerity, present my hand;” which our adventurer bathed with his
tears. The Countess, whose mind was in unison with her husband,
repeated her assurances of pardon and protection; at which the penitent
rejoiced in silence, while he raised his head and took a parting view
of those charms which had formerly enslaved his heart.
Having thus obeyed the dictates of his duty and inclination, he next
morning embarked in the stage-coach, with his faithful Elenor, and in
six days arrived at the place of his retreat, which he found extremely
well adapted to the circumstances of his mind and fortune. For all his
vice and ambition was now quite mortified within him, and his whole
attention engrossed in atoning for his former crimes, by a sober and