The Adventures of Roderick Random
I am betrayed! Who’s that in the next room?” Mrs. Betty told him he
need not be uneasy: there were only three poor travellers, who, missing
the road, had taken up their lodgings in the house, and were asleep
long ago. “Travellers,” says he, “spies, you b—ch! But no matter; I’ll
send them all to hell in an instant!” He accordingly ran towards our
door; when his sweetheart interposing, assured him, there was only a
couple of poor young Scotchmen, who were too raw and ignorant to give
him the least cause of suspicion; and the third was a presbyterian
pedlar of the same nation, who had often lodged in the house before.
This declaration satisfied the thief, who swore he was glad there was a
pedlar, for he wanted some linen. Then, in a jovial manner, he put
about the glass, mingling his discourse to Betty with caresses and
familiarities, that spoke him very happy in his amours. During that
part of the conversation which regarded this, Strap had crept under the
bed, where he lay in the agonies of fear; so that it was with great
difficulty I persuaded him our danger was over, and prevailed on him to
awake the pedlar, and inform him of what he had seen and heard.
The itinerant merchant no sooner felt somebody shaking him by the
shoulder, than he started up, called, as loud as he could, “Thieves,
thieves! Lord have mercy upon us!” And Rifle, alarmed at this
exclamation, jumped up, cocked one of his pistols, and turned towards
the door to kill the first man that should enter; for he verily
believed himself beset: when his Dulcinea, after an immoderate fit of
laughter, persuaded him that the poor pedlar, dreaming of thieves, had
only cried out in his sleep.
Meanwhile, my comrade had undeceived our fellow-lodger, and informed
him of his reason for disturbing him; upon which, getting up softly, he
peeped through the hole, and was so terrified with what he saw, that,
falling down on his bare knees, he put up a long petition to Heaven to
deliver him from the hands of that ruffian, and promised never to
defraud a customer for the future of the value of a pin’s point,
provided he might be rescued from the present danger. Whether or not
his disburthening his conscience afforded him any ease I knew not, but
he slipped into bed again, and lay very quiet until the robber and his
mistress were asleep, and snored in concert; then, rising softly, he
untied a rope that was round his pack, which making fast to one end of
it, he opened the window with as little noise as possible, and lowered
his goods into the yard with great dexterity: then he moved gently to
our bedside and bade us farewell, telling us that, as we ran no risk we
might take our rest with great confidence, and in the morning assure
the landlord that we knew nothing of his escape, and, lastly, shaking
us by the hands, and wishing us all manner of success, he let himself
drop from the window without any danger, for the ground was not above a
yard from his feet as he hung on the outside.
Although I did not think proper to accompany him in his flight, I was
not at all free from apprehension when I reflected on what might be the
effect of the highwayman’s disappointment; as he certainly intended to
make free with the pedlar’s ware. Neither was my companion at more ease
in his mind, but on the contrary, so possessed with the dreadful idea
of Rifle, that he solicited me strongly to follow our countryman’s
example, and so elude the fatal resentment of that terrible adventurer,
who would certainly wreak his vengeance on us as accomplices of the
pedlar’s elopement. But I represented to him the danger of giving Rifle
cause to think we know his profession, and suggested that, if ever he
should meet us again on the road, he would look upon us as dangerous
acquaintance, and find it his interest to put us out of the way. I told
him, withal, my confidence in Betty’s good nature, in which he
acquiesced; and during the remaining part of the night we concerted a
proper method of behaviour, to render us unsuspected in the morning.
It was no sooner day than Betty, entering our chamber, and perceiving
our window open, cried out, “Odds-bobs! sure you Scotchmen must have
hot constitutions to lie all night with the window open in such cold
weather.” I feigned to start out of sleep, and, withdrawing the
curtain, called, “What’s the matter?” When she showed me, I affected
surprise, and said, “Bless me! the window was shut when we went to
bed.” “I’ll be hanged,” said she, “if Sawney Waddle, the pedlar, has
not got up in a dream and done it, for I heard him very obstropulous in
his sleep.—Sure I put a chamberpot under his bed!”
With these words she advanced to the bed, in which he lay, and, finding
the sheets cold, exclaimed, “Good lackadaisy! The rogue is fled.”
“Fled,” cried I, with feigned amazement, “God forbid! Sure he has not
robbed us!” Then, springing up, I laid hold of my breeches, and emptied
all my loose money into my hand; which having reckoned, I said, “Heaven
be praised, our money is all safe! Strap, look to the knapsack.” He did
so, and found all was right. Upon which we asked, with seeming concern,
if he had stolen nothing belonging to the house. “No, no,” replied she,
“he has stole nothing but his reckoning;” which, it seems, this pious
pedlar had forgot to discharge in the midst of his devotion.
Betty, after a moment’s pause withdrew, and immediately we could hear
her waken Rifle, who no sooner heard of Waddle’s flight than he jumped
out of bed and dressed, venting a thousand execrations, and vowing to
murder the pedlar if ever he should set eyes on him again: “For,” said
he “the scoundrel has by this time raised the hue and cry against me.”
Having dressed himself in a hurry, he mounted his horse, and for that
time rid us of his company and a thousand fears that were the
consequence of it.
While we were at breakfast, Betty endeavoured, by all the cunning she
was mistress of, to learn whether or no we suspected our fellow-lodger,
whom we saw take horse; but, as we were on our guard, we answered her
sly questions with a simplicity she could not distrust; when, all of a
sudden, we heard the trampling of a horse’s feet at the door. This
noise alarmed Strap so much, whose imagination was wholly engrossed by
the image of Rifle, that, with a countenance as pale as milk, he cried,
“O Lord! there is the highwayman returned!”
Our landlady, staring at these words, said, “What highwayman, young
man? Do you think any highwaymen harbour here?”
Though I was very much disconcerted at this piece of indiscretion in
Strap, I had presence of mind enough to tell her we had met a horseman
the day before, whom Strap had foolishly supposed to be a highwayman,
because he rode with pistols; and that he had been terrified at the
sound of a horse’s feet ever since.
She forced a smile at the ignorance and timidity of my comrade; but I
could perceive, not without great concern, that this account was not at
all satisfactory to her.
CHAPTER IX
We proceed on our Journey—are overtaken by a Highwayman who fires at
Strap—is prevented from shooting me by a Company of Horsemen, who ride
in pursuit of him—Strap is put to Bed at an Inn—Adventures at that Inn
After having paid our score and taken leave of our hostess, who
embraced me tenderly at parting, we proceeded on our journey, blessing
ourselves that we had come off so well. We had not walked above five
miles, when we observed a man on horseback galloping after us, whom we
in a short time recognised to be no other than this formidable hero who
had already given us so much vexation. He stopped hard by me, and asked
if I knew who he was? My astonishment had disconcerted me so much that
I did not hear his question, which he repeated with a volley of oaths
and threats; but I remained as mute as before.
Strap, seeing my discomposure, fell upon his knees in the mud,
uttering, with a lamentable voice, these words: “For Christ’s sake,
have mercy upon us, Mr. Rifle! we know you very well.” “Oho!” cried the
thief, “you do! But you never shall be evidence against me in this
world, you dog!” So saying, he drew a pistol, and fired it at the
unfortunate shaver, who fell flat upon the ground without speaking one
word.
My comrade’s fate and my own situation riveted me to the place where I
stood, deprived of all sense and reflection; so that I did not make the
least attempt either to run away or deprecate the wrath of this
barbarian, who snapped a second pistol at me; but, before he had time
to prime again, perceiving a company of horsemen coming up, he rode
off, and left me standing motionless as a statue, in which posture I
was found by those whose appearance had saved my life. This company
consisted of three men in livery, well armed, with an officer, who (as
I afterwards learned,) was the person from whom Rifle had taken the
pocket pistols the day before; and who, making known his misfortune to
a nobleman he met on the road, and assuring him his non-resistance was
altogether owing to his consideration for the ladies in the coach,
procured the assistance of his lordship’s servants to go in quest of
the plunderer. This holiday captain scampered up to me with great
address, and asked who fired the pistol which he had heard.
As I had not yet recovered my reason, he, before I could answer,
observed a body lying on the ground, at which sight his colour changed,
and he pronounced, with a faltering tongue, “Gentlemen, here’s murder
committed! Let us alight.” “No, no,” said one of his followers, “let us
rather pursue the murderer. Which way went he, young man?”
By this time I had recollected myself so far as to tell them that he
could not be a quarter of a mile before; and to beg one of them to
assist me in conveying the corpse of my friend to the next house, in
order to it being interred. The captain, foreseeing that, in case he
should pursue, he must soon come to action, began to curb his horse,
and gave him the spur at the same time, which treatment making the
creature rear up and snort, he called out, his horse was frightened,
and would not proceed; at the same time wheeling him round and round,
stroking his neck, whistling and wheedling him with “Sirrah,
sirrah—gently, gently.” etc. “Z—ds!”, cried one of the servants, “sure
my lord’s Sorrel is not resty!”
With these words he bestowed a lash on his buttocks, and Sorrel,
disdaining the rein sprang forward with the captain at a pace that
would have soon brought him up with the robber, had not the girth
(happily for him) given way, by which means he landed in the dirt; and
two of his attendants continued their pursuit, without minding his
situation. Meanwhile one of the three who remained at my desire,
turning the body of Strap, in order to see the wound which had killed
him, found him still warm and breathing: upon which, I immediately let
him blood, and saw him, with inexpressible joy, recover; he having
received no other wound than what his fear had inflicted. Having raised
him upon his legs, we walked together to an inn, about half a mile from
the place, where Strap, who was not quite recovered, went to bed; and
in a little time the third servant returned with the captain’s horse
and furniture, leaving him to crawl after as well as he could.
This gentleman of the sword, upon his arrival, complained grievously of
the bruise occasioned by his fall; and, on the recommendation of the
servant, who warranted my ability, I was employed to bleed him, for
which service he rewarded me with half-a-crown.
The time between this event and dinner I passed in observing a game at
cards between two farmers, an exciseman, and a young fellow in a rusty
gown and cassock, who, as I afterwards understood, was curate of a
neighbouring parish. It was easy to perceive that the match was not