<SPAN name="V3_CX" id="V3_CX"></SPAN>
<h2>CHAPTER X.</h2>
<p>I procured a new lodging. By some bias of the mind, it may be, gratifying
itself with images of peril, I inclined to believe that Mrs. Marney's alarm
had not been without foundation. I was however unable to conjecture through
what means danger had approached me; and had therefore only the
unsatisfactory remedy of redoubling my watch upon all my actions. Still I
had the joint considerations pressing upon me of security and subsistence. I
had some small remains of the produce of my former industry; but this was
but small, for my employer was in arrear with me, and I did not choose in
any method to apply to him for payment. The anxieties of my mind, in spite
of all my struggles, preyed upon my health. I did not consider myself as in
safety for an instant. My appearance was wasted to a shadow; and I started
at every sound that was unexpected. Sometimes I was half tempted to resign
myself into the hands of the law, and brave its worst; but resentment and
indignation at those times speedily flowed back upon my mind, and
re-animated my perseverance.</p>
<p>I knew no better resource with respect to subsistence than that I had
employed in the former instance, of seeking some third person to stand
between me and the disposal of my industry. I might find an individual ready
to undertake this office in my behalf; but where should I find the
benevolent soul of Mrs. Marney? The person I fixed upon was a Mr. Spurrel, a
man who took in work from the watchmakers, and had an apartment upon our
second floor. I examined him two or three times with irresolute glances, as
we passed upon the stairs, before I would venture to accost him. He observed
this, and at length kindly invited me into his apartment.</p>
<p>Being seated, he condoled with me upon my seeming bad health, and the
solitary mode of my living, and wished to know whether he could be of any
service to me. "From the first moment he saw me, he had conceived an
affection for me." In my present disguise I appeared twisted and deformed,
and in other respects by no means an object of attraction. But it seemed Mr.
Spurrel had lost an only son about six months before, and I was "the very
picture of him." If I had put off my counterfeited ugliness, I should
probably have lost all hold upon his affections. "He was now an old man," as
he observed, "just dropping into the grave, and his son had been his only
consolation. The poor lad was always ailing, but he had been a nurse to him;
and the more tending he required while he was alive, the more he missed him
now he was dead. Now he had not a friend, nor any body that cared for him,
in the whole world. If I pleased, I should be instead of that son to him,
and he would treat me in all respects with the same attention and
kindness."</p>
<p>I expressed my sense of these benevolent offers, but told him that I
should be sorry to be in any way burthensome to him. "My ideas at present
led me to a private and solitary life, and my chief difficulty was to
reconcile this with some mode of earning necessary subsistence. If he would
condescend to lend me his assistance in smoothing this difficulty, it would
be the greatest benefit he could confer on me." I added, that "my mind had
always had a mechanical and industrious turn, and that I did not doubt of
soon mastering any craft to which I seriously applied myself. I had not been
brought up to any trade; but, if he would favour me with his instructions, I
would work with him as long as he pleased for a bare subsistence. I knew
that I was asking of him an extraordinary kindness; but I was urged on the
one hand by the most extreme necessity, and encouraged on the other by the
persuasiveness of his friendly professions."</p>
<p>The old man dropped some tears over my apparent distress, and readily
consented to every thing I proposed. Our agreement was soon made, and I
entered upon my functions accordingly. My new friend was a man of a singular
turn of mind. Love of money, and a charitable officiousness of demeanour,
were his leading characteristics. He lived in the most penurious manner, and
denied himself every indulgence. I entitled myself almost immediately, as he
frankly acknowledged, to some remuneration for my labours, and accordingly
he insisted upon my being paid. He did not however, as some persons would
have done under the circumstance, pay me the whole amount of my earnings,
but professed to subtract from them twenty per cent, as an equitable
consideration for instruction, and commission-money in procuring me a
channel for my industry. Yet he frequently shed tears over me, was uneasy in
every moment of our indispensable separation, and exhibited perpetual tokens
of attachment and fondness. I found him a man of excellent mechanical
contrivance, and received considerable pleasure from his communications. My
own sources of information were various; and he frequently expressed his
wonder and delight in the contemplation of my powers, as well of amusement
as exertion.</p>
<p>Thus I appeared to have attained a situation not less eligible than in my
connection with Mrs. Marney. I was however still more unhappy. My fits of
despondence were deeper, and of more frequent recurrence. My health every
day grew worse; and Mr. Spurrel was not without apprehensions that he should
lose me, as he before lost his only son.</p>
<p>I had not been long however in this new situation, before an incident
occurred which filled me with greater alarm and apprehension than ever. I
was walking out one evening, after a long visitation of languor, for an
hour's exercise and air, when my ears were struck with two or three casual
sounds from the mouth of a hawker who was bawling his wares. I stood still
to inform myself more exactly, when, to my utter astonishment and confusion,
I heard him deliver himself nearly in these words: "<i>Here you have the</i>
MOST WONDERFUL AND SURPRISING HISTORY AND MIRACULOUS ADVENTURES OF CALEB
WILLIAMS: <i>you are informed how he first robbed, and then brought false
accusations against his master; as also of his attempting divers times to
break out of prison, till at last he effected his escape in the most
wonderful and uncredible manner; as also of his travelling the kingdom in
various disguises, and the robberies he committed with a most desperate and
daring gang of thieves; and of his coming up to London, where it is supposed
he now lies concealed; with a true and faithful copy of the hue and cry
printed and published by one of his Majesty's most principal secretaries of
state, offering a reward of one hundred guineas for apprehending him. All
for the price of one halfpenny</i>."</p>
<p>Petrified as I was at these amazing and dreadful sounds, I had the
temerity to go up to the man and purchase one of his papers. I was
desperately resolved to know the exact state of the fact, and what I had to
depend upon. I carried it with me a little way, till, no longer able to
endure the tumult of my impatience, I contrived to make out the chief part
of its contents, by the help of a lamp, at the upper end of a narrow
passage. I found it contain a greater number of circumstances than could
have been expected in this species of publication, I was equalled to the
most notorious housebreaker in the art of penetrating through walls and
doors, and to the most accomplished swindler in plausibleness, duplicity,
and disguise. The hand-bill which Larkins had first brought to us upon the
forest was printed at length. All my disguises, previously to the last alarm
that had been given me by the providence of Mrs. Marney, were faithfully
enumerated; and the public were warned to be upon their watch against a
person of an uncouth and extraordinary appearance, and who lived in a
recluse and solitary manner. I also learned from this paper that my former
lodgings had been searched on the very evening of my escape, and that Mrs.
Marney had been sent to Newgate, upon a charge of misprision of
felony.—This last circumstance affected me deeply. In the midst of my
own sufferings my sympathies flowed undiminished. It was a most cruel and
intolerable idea, if I were not only myself to be an object of unrelenting
persecution, but my very touch were to be infectious, and every one that
succoured me was to be involved in the common ruin. My instant feeling was
that of a willingness to undergo the utmost malice of my enemies, could I by
that means have saved this excellent woman from alarm and peril.—I
afterwards learned that Mrs. Marney was delivered from confinement, by the
interposition of her noble relation.</p>
<p>My sympathy for Mrs. Marney however was at this moment a transient one. A
more imperious and irresistible consideration demanded to be heard.</p>
<p>With what sensations did I ruminate upon this paper? Every word of it
carried despair to my heart. The actual apprehension that I dreaded would
perhaps have been less horrible. It would have put an end to that lingering
terror to which I was a prey. Disguise was no longer of use. A numerous
class of individuals, through every department, almost every house of the
metropolis, would be induced to look with a suspicious eye upon every
stranger, especially every solitary stranger, that fell under their
observation. The prize of one hundred guineas was held out to excite their
avarice and sharpen their penetration. It was no longer Bow-street, it was a
million of men in arms against me. Neither had I the refuge, which few men
have been so miserable as to want, of one single individual with whom to
repose my alarms, and who might shelter me from the gaze of indiscriminate
curiosity.</p>
<p>What could exceed the horrors of this situation? My heart knocked against
my ribs, my bosom heaved, I gasped and panted for breath. "There is no end
then," said I, "to my persecutors! My unwearied and long-continued labours
lead to no termination! Termination! No; the lapse of time, that cures all
other things, makes my case more desperate! Why then," exclaimed I, a new
train of thought suddenly rushing into my mind, "why should I sustain the
contest any longer? I can at least elude my persecutors in death. I can bury
myself and the traces of my existence together in friendly oblivion; and
thus bequeath eternal doubt, and ever new alarm, to those who have no peace
but in pursuing me!"</p>
<p>In the midst of the horrors with which I was now impressed, this idea
gave me pleasure; and I hastened to the Thames to put it in instant
execution. Such was the paroxysm of my mind that my powers of vision became
partially suspended. I was no longer conscious to the feebleness of disease,
but rushed along with fervent impetuosity. I passed from street to street
without observing what direction I pursued. After wandering I know not how
long, I arrived at London Bridge. I hastened to the stairs, and saw the
river covered with vessels.</p>
<p>"No human being must see me," said I, "at the instant that I vanish for
ever." This thought required some consideration. A portion of time had
elapsed since my first desperate purpose. My understanding began to return.
The sight of the vessels suggested to me the idea of once more attempting to
leave my native country.</p>
<p>I enquired, and speedily found that the cheapest passage I could procure
was in a vessel moored near the Tower, and which was to sail in a few days
for Middleburgh in Holland. I would have gone instantly on board, and have
endeavoured to prevail with the captain to let me remain there till he
sailed; but unfortunately I had not money enough in my pocket to defray my
passage.</p>
<p>It was worse than this. I had not money enough in the world. I however
paid the captain half his demand, and promised to return with the rest. I
knew not in what manner it was to be procured, but I believed that I should
not fail in it. I had some idea of applying to Mr. Spurrel. Surely he would
not refuse me? He appeared to love me with parental affection, and I thought
I might trust myself for a moment in his hands.</p>
<p>I approached my place of residence with a heavy and foreboding heart. Mr.
Spurrel was not at home; and I was obliged to wait for his return. Worn out
with fatigue, disappointment, and the ill state of my health, I sunk upon a
chair. Speedily however I recollected myself. I had work of Mr. Spurrel's in
my trunk, which had been delivered out to me that very morning, to five
times the amount I wanted. I canvassed for a moment whether I should make
use of this property as if it were my own; but I rejected the idea with
disdain. I had never in the smallest degree merited the reproaches that were
east upon me; and I determined I never would merit them. I sat gasping,
anxious, full of the blackest forebodings. My terrors appeared, even to my
own mind, greater and more importunate than the circumstances
authorised.</p>
<p>It was extraordinary that Mr. Spurrel should be abroad at this hour; I
had never known it happen before. His bed-time was between nine and ten. Ten
o'clock came, eleven o'clock, but not Mr. Spurrel. At midnight I heard his
knock at the door. Every soul in the house was in bed. Mr. Spurrel, on
account of his regular hours, was unprovided with a key to open for himself.
A gleam, a sickly gleam, of the social spirit came over my heart. I flew
nimbly down stairs, and opened the door.</p>
<p>I could perceive, by the little taper in my hand, something extraordinary
in his countenance. I had not time to speak, before I saw two other men
follow him. At the first glance I was sufficiently assured what sort of
persons they were. At the second, I perceived that one of them was no other
than Gines himself. I had understood formerly that he had been of this
profession, and I was not surprised to find him in it again. Though I had
for three hours endeavoured, as it were, to prepare myself for the
unavoidable necessity of falling once again into the hands of the officers
of law, the sensation I felt at their entrance was indescribably agonising.
I was besides not a little astonished at the time and manner of their
entrance; and I felt anxious to know whether Mr. Spurrel could be base
enough to have been their introducer.</p>
<p>I was not long held in perplexity. He no sooner saw his followers within
the door, than he exclaimed, with convulsive eagerness, "There, there, that
is your man! thank God! thank God!" Gines looked eagerly in my face, with a
countenance expressive alternately of hope and doubt, and answered, "By God,
and I do not know whether it be or no! I am afraid we are in the wrong box!"
Then recollecting himself, "We will go into the house, and examine further
however." We all went up stairs into Mr. Spurrel's room; I set down the
candle upon the table. I had hitherto been silent; but I determined not to
desert myself, and was a little encouraged to exertion by the scepticism of
Gines. With a calm and deliberate manner therefore, in my feigned voice, one
of the characteristics of which was lisping, I asked, "Pray, gentlemen, what
may be your pleasure with me?"—"Why," said Gines, "our errand is with
one Caleb Williams, and a precious rascal he is! I ought to know the chap
well enough; but they say he has as many faces as there are days in the
year. So you please to pull off your face; or, if you cannot do that, at
least you can pull off your clothes, and let us see what your hump is made
of."</p>
<p>I remonstrated, but in vain. I stood detected in part of my artifice; and
Gines, though still uncertain, was every moment more and more confirmed in
his suspicions. Mr. Spurrel perfectly gloated, with eyes that seemed ready
to devour every thing that passed. As my imposture gradually appeared more
palpable, he repeated his exclamation, "Thank God! thank God!" At last,
tired with this scene of mummery, and disgusted beyond measure with the base
and hypocritical figure I seemed to exhibit, I exclaimed, "Well, I am Caleb
Williams; conduct me wherever you please! And now, Mr. Spurrel!"—He
gave a violent start. The instant I declared myself his transport had been
at the highest, and was, to any power he was able to exert, absolutely
uncontrollable. But the unexpectedness of my address, and the tone in which
I spoke, electrified him.—"Is it possible," continued I, "that you
should have been the wretch to betray me? What have I done to deserve this
treatment? Is this the kindness you professed? the affection that was
perpetually in your mouth? to be the death of me!"</p>
<p>"My poor boy! my dear creature!" cried Spurrel, whimpering, and in a tone
of the humblest expostulation, "indeed I could not help it! I would have
helped it, if I could! I hope they will not hurt my darling! I am sure I
shall die if they do!"</p>
<p>"Miserable driveller!" interrupted I, with a stern voice, "do you betray
me into the remorseless fangs of the law, and then talk of my not being
hurt? I know my sentence, and am prepared to meet it! You have fixed the
halter upon my neck, and at the same price would have done so to your only
son! Go, count your accursed guineas! My life would have been safer in the
hands of one I had never seen than in yours, whose mouth and whose eyes for
ever ran over with crocodile affection!"</p>
<p>I have always believed that my sickness, and, as he apprehended,
approaching death, contributed its part to the treachery of Mr. Spurrel. He
predicted to his own mind the time when I should no longer be able to work.
He recollected with agony the expense that attended his son's illness and
death. He determined to afford me no assistance of a similar kind. He feared
however the reproach of deserting me. He feared the tenderness of his
nature. He felt, that I was growing upon his affections, and that in a short
time he could not have deserted me. He was driven by a sort of implicit
impulse, for the sake of avoiding one ungenerous action, to take refuge in
another, the basest and most diabolical. This motive, conjoining with the
prospect of the proffered reward, was an incitement too powerful for him to
resist.</p>
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