The Adventures of Ferdinand Count Fathom — Volume 02Smollett, T. (Tobias)
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The Adventures of Ferdinand Count Fathom — Volume 02
Smollett, T. (Tobias)
Adventure stories; Gothic fiction
The first people who hear news of this sort are generally those to whom
they are most unwelcome. The German was soon apprised of his wife's
frailty, and considered the two females of his house as a couple of
devils incarnate, sent from hell to exercise his patience. Yet, in the
midst of his displeasure, he found matter of consolation, in being
furnished with a sufficient reason for parting with his helpmate, who had
for many years kept his family in disquiet. He therefore, without
hazarding a personal conference, sent proposals to her by a friend, which
she did not think proper to reject; and seeing himself restored to the
dominion of his own house, exerted his sway so tyrannically, that
Wilhelmina became weary of her life, and had recourse to the comforts of
religion, of which she soon became enamoured, and begged her father's
permission to dedicate the rest of her life to the duties of devotion.
She was accordingly received in this convent, the regulations of which
were so much to her liking, that she performed the task of probation with
pleasure, and voluntarily excluded herself from the vanities of this
life. It was here she had contracted an acquaintance with Mademoiselle
de Melvil, to whom she communicated her complaints of Fathom, on the
supposition that he was related to the Count, as he himself had often
declared.
While the young lady rehearsed the particulars of this detail, Renaldo
sustained a strange vicissitude of different passions. Surprise, sorrow,
fear, hope, and indignation raised a most tumultuous conflict in his
bosom. Monimia rushed upon his imagination in the character of innocence
betrayed by the insinuations of treachery. He with horror viewed her at
the mercy of a villain, who had broken all the ties of gratitude and
honour.
Affrighted at the prospect, he started from his seat, exclaiming, in the
most unconnected strain of distraction and despair, "Have I then
nourished a serpent in my bosom! Have I listened to the voice of a
traitor, who hath murdered my peace! who hath torn my heart-strings
asunder, and perhaps ruined the pattern of all earthly perfection. It
cannot be. Heaven would not suffer such infernal artifice to take
effect. The thunder would be levelled against the head of the accursed
projector."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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