Joseph Wilmot, or, The Memoirs of a Man-Servant — page 159: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

146 — $n “Do you know her, sir?” inquired both the man and his wife, speaking as it were in the same breath. “IT know something of her,” I answered,— “very, very little indeed—but still enough to aug- ment the interest which even as a total stranger, I should experience for one in her pitiable condi- tion. She sleeps—I will not disturb her :’—and I stepped back from the threshold of the room. A few moments’ reflection was sufficient to de- cide me howto act. During all the hours that we were together on the memorable night when I brought her to Rome, she had enveloped herself in mystery—she had not even mentioned to me her name; and when we parted it was evidently with the idea on her side that we should not meet again: indeed she had carefully abstained from saying anything that should give me the least en- couragement to inquire after her subsequent wel- fare. It was therefore from delicate motives that I had hitherto abstained from seeking the place where she had alighted from the chaise; and, as the reader has seen, it was by the merest accident that my wandering steps had conducted me to that same street now. In a word, I concluded that when once I had brought her to Rome, it was her wish that I should see her no more; and I was resolved that she should not know—or at least not immediately—who it was that was interesting himself in her behalf. Such was the rapid con: clusion to which I came after those few instants’ reflection upon the landing. * Do you attend upon her, my good woman,” I said in a whisper to the mechanic’s wife: “ follow the directions which the doctor has given in respect to the medicine—and say nothing to her of my presence here. lam going to have some conver- sation with your husband—and everything shall be done that money can accomplish for the poor girl’s well-being.” There was a window upon the landing ; and I saw that as I spoke, the carpenter and his wife sur- veyed me with a growing suspicion, mingled with reproachfulsess in their looks;—and no wonder, considering the agitation and excitement I had displayed from the moment that they had first brought me to the entrance of that house. Icom- prehended in an instant what was passing in their minds; and I hastened to say, “ Your misgiving is natural enough—and I am not offended by it. But as there is a God above me, I am innocent of all wrong towards that young lady! Indeed, I would almost stake my existence that she has sustained no wrong of the nature to which your suspicions point—but that she is virtue itself!” The countenances of the mechanic and his wife brightened up rapidly while I was thus speaking in a low but emphatic tone; and they both be- sought my pardon for the temporary suspicion they had entertained. I repeated my former assurance —that I considered their misgiving natural enough; and while the woman entered the invalid’s room to administer the medicine, her husband conducted me into their own apartment, which opened from the same landing. It was very poorly furnished— but everything was neat and clean; and being in such humble circumstances, it was fortunate for the couple that they possessed no children—as I presently learnt was the case. The journeyman-carpenter’s tale in respect to JOSEPH WILMOT; OR, THE MEMOIRS OF A MAN-SERVANT. the young lady was soon told. She had arrived at the house very early in the morning about six days back: she had alighted from a chaise, which im- mediately drove off. It appeared that she inquired for an old woman whom she expected to find there: but this woman had removed some months back to a distant part of the country,—her services as nurse having been engaged in some family of distinction, The young lady was terribly afflicted on receiving this intelligence: and she besought that she might have a room given her, no matter how poor and humble. She gave no name, and would answer no questions. She was totally unknown to the land- lady of the house: she had neither baggage nor money: but she promised that whatever debt she might contract, should be honourably paid. . The landlady, convinced by her appearance that she was no common adventuress, consented to give her a lodging: but scarcely was she installed there, when she became exceedingly ill ; and being over- taken by fever, grew delirious. The journeyman and his wife took compassion upon her, and ren- dered what succour they could,—Mrs. Blanchard (for such was the name of the worthy couple) at- tending her almost constantly day and night. At length, as the fever did not leave her—as she con- tinued delirious—and there were no possible meaus of discovering whether she had any family or friends in Rome, the carpenter got a doctor to visit her from motives of charity ; and the result was the prescription which had just been made up. In respect to the Blanchards themselves, the man had been some years in Italy, to which country he was originally brought by a London contractor who was engaged to fit up a villa which an English noble- man had taken in the neighbourhcod of Rome. Blanchard had remained at Rome after the con- tract was finished, in the hope that the superior skill of an English artisan would ensure him good wages; and he had married a servant who was in the household of the contractor, Things had not however turned out as he originally hoped—work became scarce—and its wages fell lower and lower : so that the poor couple had no means to return to their native land; and they eked out an impo- verished existence as well as they could. WNever- theless, even from their pittance they had gene- rously spared something for the relief of the poor young lady. Having listened to Blanchard’s explanations, I volunteered none in respect to the circumstances which had made me acquainted with the fair stranger: but I bade him at once hasten off and fetch the doctor,—giving him the money to pay the fee in advance. In afew minutes he returned, accompanied by the medical man,—who having pocketed the fee, and knowing that it came from my purse, was all civility and attention. I begged him to inform me candidly what was the young lady’s precise condition: and he said that she was in a high state of fever, no doubt brought on by some extraordinary mental excitement—but that with care and attention, there was every prospect of her recovery. I said that all such care and at- tention should be assuredly paid her; and then I asked whether it were safe to remove her to a hotel, or to better lodgings, The physician re- sponded emphatically in the negative—as indeed I had foreseen he would. I thereupon requested | that he would devote all his time and skill to the * <S EORCOO@ G (E(0) Il EEE Eee