The Expedition of Humphry ClinkerSmollett, T. (Tobias)
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The Expedition of Humphry Clinker
Smollett, T. (Tobias)
Epistolary fiction; Great Britain -- Fiction; Travelers -- Fiction
I now sit down to execute the threat in the tail of my last. The truth
is, I am big with the secret, and long to be delivered. It relates to my
guardian, who, you know, is at present our principal object in view.
T’other day, I thought I had detected him in such a state of frailty, as
would but ill become his years and character. There is a decent sort of
woman, not disagreeable in her person, that comes to the Well, with a
poor emaciated child, far gone in a consumption. I had caught my uncle’s
eyes several times directed to this person, with a very suspicious
expression in them, and every time he saw himself observed, he hastily
withdrew them, with evident marks of confusion--I resolved to watch him
more narrowly, and saw him speaking to her privately in a corner of the
walk. At length, going down to the Well one day, I met her half way up
the hill to Clifton, and could not help suspecting she was going to our
lodgings by appointment, as it was about one o’clock, the hour when my
sister and I are generally at the Pump-room.--This notion exciting my
curiosity, I returned by a back-way, and got unperceived into my own
chamber, which is contiguous to my uncle’s apartment. Sure enough, the
woman was introduced but not into his bedchamber; he gave her audience
in a parlour; so that I was obliged to shift my station to another room,
where, however, there was a small chink in the partition, through which
I could perceive what passed. My uncle, though a little lame, rose up
when she came in, and setting a chair for her, desired she would sit
down: then he asked if she would take a dish of chocolate, which she
declined, with much acknowledgment. After a short pause, he said, in a
croaking tone of voice, which confounded me not a little, ‘Madam, I am
truly concerned for your misfortunes; and if this trifle can be of any
service to you, I beg you will accept it without ceremony.’ So saying,
he put a bit of paper into her hand, which she opening with great
trepidation, exclaimed in an extacy, ‘Twenty pounds! Oh, sir!’ and
sinking down upon a settee, fainted away--Frightened at this fit, and,
I suppose, afraid of calling for assistance, lest her situation
should give rise to unfavourable conjectures, he ran about the room in
distraction, making frightful grimaces; and, at length, had recollection
enough to throw a little water in her face; by which application she was
brought to herself: but, then her feeling took another turn. She shed
a flood of tears, and cried aloud, ‘I know not who you are: but,
sure--worthy sir--generous sir!--the distress of me and my poor dying
child--Oh! if the widow’s prayers--if the orphan’s tears of gratitude
can ought avail--gracious Providence--Blessings!--shower down eternal
blessings.’--Here she was interrupted by my uncle, who muttered in
a voice still more and more discordant, ‘For Heaven’s sake be quiet,
madam--consider--the people of the house--‘sdeath! can’t you.’--All this
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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