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away on those who are insensible of it. I know my cousin better than you, Mr. Jones; and I must say, any woman who makes no return to such a passion, and such a person, is unworthy of both.'
'Sure, madam,' said Jones, you can't mean----Mean!' cries Mrs. Fitzpatrick, I know not what I mean there is something, I think, in true tenderness, bewitching; few women ever meet with it in men, and fewer still know how to value it when they do. I never heard such truly noble sentiments; and I can't tell how it is, but you force one to believe you. Sure she must be the most contemptible of women, who can overlook such merit.'
The manner and look with which all this was spoke, infused a suspicion into Jones, which we don't care to convey in direct words to the reader. Instead of making any answer, he said, I am afraid, madam, I have made too tiresome a visit;' and offered to take his leave.
Not at all, sir,' answered Mrs. Fitzpatrick. Indeed I pity you, Mr. Jones; indeed I do: but if you are going, consider of the scheme I have mentioned. I am convinced you will approve it, and let me see you again as soon as you can. To-morrow morning, if you will, or at least some time to-morrow. I shall be at home all day.'
Jones then, after many expressions of thanks, very respectfully retired; nor could Mrs. Fitzpatrick forbear making him a present of a look at parting, by which if he had understood nothing, he must have. had no understanding in the language of the eyes. In reality, it confirmed his resolution of returning to her no more: for faulty as he hath hitherto appeared in this history, his whole thoughts were now so confined to his Sophia, that I believe no woman upon earth could have now drawn him into an act of inconstancy.
Fortune, however, who was not his friend, re. solved, as he intended to give her no second oppor
tunity, to make the best of this; and accordingly produced the tragical incident which we are now in sorrowful notes to record.
MR. Fitzpatrick having received the letter before
Western, and being by that means acquainted with the place to which his wife was retired, returned directly to Bath, and thence the day after set forward to London.
The reader hath been already often informed of the jealous temper of this gentleman. He may like. wise be pleased to remember the suspicion which he had conceived of Mr. Jones at Upton, upon his finding him in the room with Mrs. Waters; and though sufficient reasons had afterwards appeared entirely to clear up that suspicion, yet now the reading so handsome a character of Mr. Jones from his wife, caused him to reflect, that she likewise was in the inn at the same time; and jumbled together such a confusion of circumstances, in a head which was naturally none of the clearest, that the whole produced that green-eyed monster mentioned by Shakespeare in his tragedy of Othello.
And now, as he was inquiring in the street after his wife, and had just received directions to the door, unfortunately Mr. Jones was issuing from it.
Fitzpatrick did not yet recollect the face of Jones: however, seeing a young well-dressed fellow coming from his wife, he made directly up to him, and ask. ed him what he had been doing in that house? For I am sure,' said he, you must have been in it, as I saw you come out of it.'
Jones answered very modestly, That he had been visiting a lady there.' To which Fitzpatrick replied,What business have you with the lady?'
Upon which Jones, who now perfectly remembered the voice, features, and indeed coat, of the gentle. man, cried out-Ha, my good friend! give me your hand; I hope there is no ill blood remaining between us, upon a small mistake which happened so long ago."
Upon my soul, sir,' said Fitzpatrick, I don't know your name nor your face. Indeed, sir,' said Jones, neither have I the pleasure of knowing your name; but your face I very well remember to have seen before, at Upton, where a foolish quarrel happened between us, which, if it is not made up yet, we will now make up over a bottle."
At Upton!' cried the other: Ha! upon my soul, I believe your name is Jones. Indeed,' answered he, it is. O! upon my soul,' cries Fitzpatrick, you are the very man I wanted to meet. Upon my soul I will drink a bottle with you presently; but first I will give you a great knock over the pate. There is for you, you rascal. Upon my soul, if you do not give me satisfaction for that blow, I will give you another.' And then drawing his sword, put himself in a posture of defence, which was the only science he understood.
Jones was a little staggered by the blow, which came somewhat unexpectedly; but presently recovering himself, he also drew, and though he understood nothing of fencing, pressed on so boldly upon Fitzpatrick, that he beat down his guard, and sheathed one half of his sword in the body of the said gentleman, who had no sooner received it, than he stepped backwards, dropped the point of his sword, and leaning upon it, cried, I have satisfaction enough: I am a dead man.'
'I hope not,' cries Jones; but whatever be the consequence, you must be sensible you have drawn it upon yourself.' At this instant a number of fellows rushed in, and seized Jones, who told them he should make no resistance, and begged some of theni at least would take care of the wounded gentleman.
Ay, cries one of the fellows, the wounded gen tleman will be taken care enough of; for I suppose he hath not many hours to live. As for you, sir, you have a month at least good yet.' D-n me, Jack,' said another, he hath prevented his voyage; he's bound to another port now!' and many other such jests was our poor Jones made the subject of, by these fellows, who were indeed the gang employed by Lord Fellamar, and had dogged him into the house of Mrs. Fitzpatrick, waiting for him at the corner of the street when this unfortunate accident happened.
The officer, who commanded this gang, very wisely concluded, that his business was now to deliver his prisoner into the hands of the civil magistrate. He ordered him, therefore, to be carried to a public house, where having sent for a constable, he delivered him to his custody.
The constable seeing Mr. Jones very well dressed, and hearing that the accident had happened in a duel, treated his prisoner with great civility, and, at his request, dispatched a messenger to inquire after the wounded gentleman, who was now at a tavern under the surgeon's hands. The report brought back was, that the wound was certainly mortal, and there were no hopes of life. Upon which the constable informed Jones, that he must go before a justice. He answered, Wherever you please: I am indifferent as to what happens to me; for though I am convinced I am not guilty of murder in the eye of the law, yet the weight of blood I find intolerable, upon my mind.'
Jones was now conducted before the justice; where the surgeon who dressed Mr. Fitzpatrick appeared, and deposed, that he believed the wound to be mortal; upon which the prisoner was com. mitted to the Gatehouse. It was very late at night, so that Jones would not send for Partridge till the next morning; and as he never shut his eyes till seven, so it was near twelve before the poor
fellow, who was greatly frightened at not hearing from his master so long, received a message, which almost deprived him of his being when he heard it.
He went to the Gatehouse with trembling knees and a beating heart, and was no sooner arrived in the presence of Jones, than he lamented the misfortune that had befallen him, with many tears, looking all the while frequently about him in great terror; for as the news now arrived that Mr. Fitzpatrick was dead, the poor fellow apprehended every minute that his ghost would enter the room. At last, he delivered him a letter which he had like to have for. got, and which came from Sophia by the hands of Black George.
Jones presently dispatched every one out of the room, and having eagerly broke open the letter, read as follows:
You owe the hearing from me again to an acci dent, which I own surprises me. My aunt hath just now shown me a letter from you to Lady Bellaston, which contains a proposal of marriage. I am convinced it is your own hand; and what more surprises me, is, that it is dated at the very time when you would have me imagine you was under such concern on my account. I leave you to comment on this fact. All I desire is, that your name may never more be mentioned to
Of the present situation of Mr. Jones's mind, and of the pangs with which he was now tormented, we cannot give the reader a better idea, than by saying, his misery was such, that even Thawckum would almost have pitied him. But, bad as it is, we shall at present leave him in it, as his good Ge nius (if he really had any) seems to have done. And here we put an end to the sixteenth book of ⚫ur history.