Chapter Chapter 59 · 第59章

I had now a certainty of life indeed, but with the hard conditions of

being ordered for transportation, which indeed was hard condition in

itself, but not when comparatively considered; and therefore I shall

make no comments upon the sentence, nor upon the choice I was put to.

We shall all choose anything rather than death, especially when ’tis

attended with an uncomfortable prospect beyond it, which was my case.

The good minister, whose interest, though a stranger to me, had

obtained me the reprieve, mourned sincerely for this part. He was in

hopes, he said, that I should have ended my days under the influence of

good instruction, that I should not have been turned loose again among

such a wretched crew as they generally are, who are thus sent abroad,

where, as he said, I must have more than ordinary secret assistance

from the grace of God, if I did not turn as wicked again as ever.

I have not for a good while mentioned my governess, who had during

most, if not all, of this part been dangerously sick, and being in as

near a view of death by her disease as I was by my sentence, was a

great penitent—I say, I have not mentioned her, nor indeed did I see

her in all this time; but being now recovering, and just able to come

abroad, she came to see me.

I told her my condition, and what a different flux and reflux of tears

and hopes I had been agitated with; I told her what I had escaped, and

upon what terms; and she was present when the minister expressed his

fears of my relapsing into wickedness upon my falling into the wretched

companies that are generally transported. Indeed I had a melancholy

reflection upon it in my own mind, for I knew what a dreadful gang was

always sent away together, and I said to my governess that the good

minister’s fears were not without cause. “Well, well,” says she, “but I

hope you will not be tempted with such a horrid example as that.” And

as soon as the minister was gone, she told me she would not have me

discouraged, for perhaps ways and means might be found out to dispose

of me in a particular way, by myself, of which she would talk further

to me afterward.

I looked earnestly at her, and I thought she looked more cheerful than

she usually had done, and I entertained immediately a thousand notions

of being delivered, but could not for my life image the methods, or

think of one that was in the least feasible; but I was too much

concerned in it to let her go from me without explaining herself,

which, though she was very loth to do, yet my importunity prevailed,

and, while I was still pressing, she answered me in a few words, thus:

“Why, you have money, have you not? Did you ever know one in your life

that was transported and had a hundred pounds in his pocket, I’ll

warrant you, child?” says she.

I understood her presently, but told her I would leave all that to her,

but I saw no room to hope for anything but a strict execution of the

order, and as it was a severity that was esteemed a mercy, there was no

doubt but it would be strictly observed. She said no more but this: “We

will try what can be done,” and so we parted for that night.

I lay in the prison near fifteen weeks after this order for

transportation was signed. What the reason of it was, I know not, but

at the end of this time I was put on board of a ship in the Thames, and

with me a gang of thirteen as hardened vile creatures as ever Newgate

produced in my time; and it would really well take up a history longer

than mine to describe the degrees of impudence and audacious villainy

that those thirteen were arrived to, and the manner of their behaviour

in the voyage; of which I have a very diverting account by me, which

the captain of the ship who carried them over gave me the minutes of,

and which he caused his mate to write down at large.

It may perhaps be thought trifling to enter here into a relation of all

the little incidents which attended me in this interval of my

circumstances; I mean, between the final order of my transportation and

the time of my going on board the ship; and I am too near the end of my

story to allow room for it; but something relating to me and my

Lancashire husband I must not omit.

He had, as I have observed already, been carried from the master’s side

of the ordinary prison into the press-yard, with three of his comrades,

for they found another to add to them after some time; here, for what

reason I knew not, they were kept in custody without being brought to

trial almost three months. It seems they found means to bribe or buy

off some of those who were expected to come in against them, and they

wanted evidence for some time to convict them. After some puzzle on

this account, at first they made a shift to get proof enough against

two of them to carry them off; but the other two, of which my

Lancashire husband was one, lay still in suspense. They had, I think,

one positive evidence against each of them, but the law strictly

obliging them to have two witnesses, they could make nothing of it. Yet

it seems they were resolved not to part with the men neither, not

doubting but a further evidence would at last come in; and in order to

this, I think publication was made, that such prisoners being taken,

any one that had been robbed by them might come to the prison and see

them.

I took this opportunity to satisfy my curiosity, pretending that I had

been robbed in the Dunstable coach, and that I would go to see the two

highwaymen. But when I came into the press-yard, I so disguised myself,

and muffled my face up so, that he could see little of me, and

consequently knew nothing of who I was; and when I came back, I said

publicly that I knew them very well.

Immediately it was rumoured all over the prison that Moll Flanders

would turn evidence against one of the highwaymen, and that I was to

come off by it from the sentence of transportation.

They heard of it, and immediately my husband desired to see this Mrs.

Flanders that knew him so well, and was to be an evidence against him;

and accordingly I had leave given to go to him. I dressed myself up as

well as the best clothes that I suffered myself ever to appear in there

would allow me, and went to the press-yard, but had for some time a

hood over my face. He said little to me at first, but asked me if I

knew him. I told him, Yes, very well; but as I concealed my face, so I

counterfeited my voice, that he had not the least guess at who I was.

He asked me where I had seen him. I told him between Dunstable and

Brickhill; but turning to the keeper that stood by, I asked if I might

not be admitted to talk with him alone. He said Yes, yes, as much as I

pleased, and so very civilly withdrew.

As soon as he was gone, I had shut the door, I threw off my hood, and

bursting out into tears, “My dear,” says I, “do you not know me?” He

turned pale, and stood speechless, like one thunderstruck, and, not

able to conquer the surprise, said no more but this, “Let me sit down”;

and sitting down by a table, he laid his elbow upon the table, and

leaning his head on his hand, fixed his eyes on the ground as one

stupid. I cried so vehemently, on the other hand, that it was a good

while ere I could speak any more; but after I had given some vent to my

passion by tears, I repeated the same words, “My dear, do you not know

me?” At which he answered, Yes, and said no more a good while.

After some time continuing in the surprise, as above, he cast up his

eyes towards me and said, “How could you be so cruel?” I did not

readily understand what he meant; and I answered, “How can you call me

cruel? What have I been cruel to you in?” “To come to me,” says he, “in

such a place as this, is it not to insult me? I have not robbed you, at

least not on the highway.”

I perceived by this that he knew nothing of the miserable circumstances

I was in, and thought that, having got some intelligence of his being

there, I had come to upbraid him with his leaving me. But I had too

much to say to him to be affronted, and told him in few words, that I

was far from coming to insult him, but at best I came to condole

mutually; that he would be easily satisfied that I had no such view,

when I should tell him that my condition was worse than his, and that

many ways. He looked a little concerned at the general expression of my

condition being worse than his, but, with a kind smile, looked a little

wildly, and said, “How can that be? When you see me fettered, and in

Newgate, and two of my companions executed already, how can your your

condition be worse than mine?”

“Come, my dear,” says I, “we have a long piece of work to do, if I

should be to relate, or you to hear, my unfortunate history; but if you

are disposed to hear it, you will soon conclude with me that my

condition is worse than yours.” “How is that possible,” says he again,

“when I expect to be cast for my life the very next sessions?” “Yes,”

says I, “’tis very possible, when I shall tell you that I have been

cast for my life three sessions ago, and am under sentence of death; is

not my case worse than yours?”

Then indeed, he stood silent again, like one struck dumb, and after a

while he starts up. “Unhappy couple!” says he. “How can this be

possible?” I took him by the hand. “Come, my dear,” said I, “sit down,

and let us compare our sorrows. I am a prisoner in this very house, and

in much worse circumstances than you, and you will be satisfied I do

not come to insult you, when I tell you the particulars.” And with this

we sat down together, and I told him so much of my story as I thought

was convenient, bringing it at last to my being reduced to great

poverty, and representing myself as fallen into some company that led

me to relieve my distresses by way that I had been utterly unacquainted

with, and that they making an attempt at a tradesman’s house, I was

seized upon for having been but just at the door, the maid-servant

pulling me in; that I neither had broke any lock nor taken anything

away, and that notwithstanding that, I was brought in guilty and

sentenced to die; but that the judges, having been made sensible of the

hardship of my circumstances, had obtained leave to remit the sentence

upon my consenting to be transported.