I am more vexed at my loss on your account than my
own. Was ever anything so unlucky? Because
I have no money in my pocket I shall be suspected
to be no Christian.”—“I am
more unlucky,” quoth the other, “if you
are as generous as you say; for really a crown would
have made me happy, and conveyed me in plenty to the
place I am going, which is not above twenty miles off,
and where I can arrive by to-morrow night. I
assure you I am not accustomed to travel pennyless.
I am but just arrived in England; and we were forced
by a storm in our passage to throw all we had overboard.
I don’t suspect but this fellow will take my
word for the trifle I owe him; but I hate to appear
so mean as to confess myself without a shilling to
such people; for these, and indeed too many others,
know little difference in their estimation between
a beggar and a thief.” However, he thought
he should deal better with the host that evening than
the next morning: he therefore resolved to set
out immediately, notwithstanding the darkness; and
accordingly, as soon as the host returned, he communicated
to him the situation of his affairs; upon which the
host, scratching his head, answered, “Why, I
do not know, master; if it be so, and you have no
money, I must trust, I think, though I had rather always
have ready money if I could; but, marry, you look
like so honest a gentleman that I don’t fear
your paying me if it was twenty times as much.”
The priest made no reply, but, taking leave of him
and Adams as fast as he could, not without confusion,
and perhaps with some distrust of Adams’s sincerity,
departed.
He was no sooner gone than the host fell a-shaking
his head, and declared, if he had suspected the fellow
had no money, he would not have drawn him a single
drop of drink, saying he despaired of ever seeing his
face again, for that he looked like a confounded rogue.
“Rabbit the fellow,” cries he, “I
thought, by his talking so much about riches, that
he had a hundred pounds at least in his pocket.”
Adams chid him for his suspicions, which, he said,
were not becoming a Christian; and then, without reflecting
on his loss, or considering how he himself should
depart in the morning, he retired to a very homely
bed, as his companions had before; however, health
and fatigue gave them a sweeter repose than is often
in the power of velvet and down to bestow.
Containing as surprizing and bloody adventures
as can be found in this or perhaps any other authentic
history.
It was almost morning when Joseph Andrews, whose eyes
the thoughts of his dear Fanny had opened, as he lay
fondly meditating on that lovely creature, heard a
violent knocking at the door over which he lay.
He presently jumped out of bed, and, opening the window,
was asked if there were no travellers in the house?
and presently, by another voice, if two men and a
woman had not taken up there their lodging that night?
