The Adventures of Ferdinand Count Fathom — CompleteSmollett, T. (Tobias)
General
The Adventures of Ferdinand Count Fathom — Complete
Smollett, T. (Tobias)
Adventure stories; Gothic fiction
Here, thinking himself safely delivered from the cause of all his
apprehension, he determined to lie incognito for a few days, so as that
he might run no risk of an accidental meeting upon the road with the
person whose company he had forsaken; and accordingly took possession
of an apartment, in which he went to rest, desiring his guide to wake
him when dinner should be ready. Having enjoyed a very comfortable
refreshment of sleep, with his bags under his pillow, he was summoned,
according to his direction, and ate a very hearty meal, with great
tranquillity and internal satisfaction. In the afternoon he amused
himself with happy presages and ideal prospects of his future fortune,
and, in the midst of these imaginary banquets, was seized with an
inclination of realising his bliss, and regaling his eyesight with the
fruits of that success which had hitherto attended his endeavours. Thus
inflamed, he opened the repository, and, O reader! what were his
reflections, when, in lieu of Mademoiselle Melvil’s ear-rings and
necklace, the German’s golden chain, divers jewels of considerable
value, the spoils of sundry dupes, and about two hundred ducats in
ready money, he found neither more nor less than a parcel of rusty
nails, disposed in such a manner as to resemble in weight and bulk the
moveables he had lost.
It is not to be supposed our adventurer made this discovery without
emotion. If the eternal salvation of mankind could have been purchased
for the tenth part of his treasure, he would have left the whole
species in a state of reprobation, rather than redeem them at that
price, unless he had seen in the bargain some evident advantage to his
own concerns. One may, therefore, easily conceive with what milkiness
of resignation he bore the loss of the whole, and saw himself reduced
from such affluence to the necessity of depending upon about twenty
ducats, and some loose silver, which he carried in his pocket, for his
expense upon the road. However bitter this pill might be in swallowing,
he so far mastered his mortification, as to digest it with a good
grace. His own penetration at once pointed out the canal through which
this misfortune had flowed upon him; he forthwith placed the calamity
to the account of the Tyrolese, and never doubting that he had retired
with the booty across the Rhine, into some place to which he knew
Fathom would not follow his footsteps, he formed the melancholy
resolution of pursuing with all despatch his journey to Paris, that he
might, with all convenient expedition, indemnify himself for the
discomfiture he had sustained.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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