Chapter 3

In vain did all the females of the family propose to him young Fathom, as
a pattern and reproach. He remained unaltered by all their efforts and
expostulations, and allowed our adventurer to enjoy the triumph of his
praise, while he himself was conscious of his own superiority in those
qualifications which seemed of more real importance than the mere
exteriors and forms of life. His present ambition was not to make a
figure at his father's table, but to eclipse his rivals at school, and to
acquire an influence and authority among these confederates.
Nevertheless, Fathom might possibly have fallen under his displeasure or
contempt, had not that pliant genius found means to retain his friendship
by seasonable compliances and submission; for the sole study, or at least
the chief aim of Ferdinand, was to make himself necessary and agreeable
to those on whom his dependence was placed. His talent was in this
particular suited to his inclination; he seemed to have inherited it from
his mother's womb; and, without all doubt, would have raised upon it a
most admirable superstructure of fortune and applause, had not it been
inseparably yoked with a most insidious principle of self-love, that grew
up with him from the cradle, and left no room in his heart for the least
particle of social virtue. This last, however, he knew so well how to
counterfeit, by means of a large share of ductility and dissimulation,
that, surely, he was calculated by nature to dupe even the most cautious,
and gratify his appetites, by levying contributions on all mankind.

So little are the common instructors of youth qualified to judge the
capacities of those who are under their tutelage and care, that Fathom,
by dint of his insinuating arts, made shift to pass upon the schoolmaster
as a lad of quick parts, in despite of a natural inaptitude to retain his
lessons, which all his industry could never overcome. In order to
remedy, or rather to cloak this defect in his understanding, he had
always recourse to the friendship of the young Count, who freely
permitted him to transcribe his exercises, until a small accident
happened, which had well-nigh put a stop to these instances of his
generosity.--The adventure, inconsiderable as it is, we shall record, as
the first overt act of Ferdinand's true character, as well as an
illustration of the opinion we have advanced touching the blind and
injudicious decisions of a right pedagogue.

Among other tasks imposed by the pedant upon the form to which our two
companions belonged, they were one evening ordered to translate a chapter
of Caesar's Commentaries. Accordingly the young Count went to work, and
performed the undertaking with great elegance and despatch. Fathom,
having spent the night in more effeminate amusements, was next morning so
much hurried for want of time, that in his transcription he neglected to
insert a few variations from the text, these being the terms on which he
was allowed to use it; so that it was verbatim a copy of the original.
As those exercises were always delivered in a heap, subscribed with the
several names of the boys to whom they belonged, the schoolmaster chanced
to peruse the version of Ferdinand, before he looked into any of the
rest, and could not help bestowing upon it particular marks of
approbation. The next that fell under his examination was that of the
young Count, when he immediately perceived the sameness, and, far from
imputing it to the true cause, upbraided him with having copied the
exercise of our adventurer, and insisted upon chastising him upon the
spot for his want of application.

Had not the young gentleman thought his honour was concerned, he would
have submitted to the punishment without murmuring; but he inherited,
from his parents, the pride of two fierce nations, and, being overwhelmed
with reproaches for that which he imagined ought to have redounded to his
glory, he could not brook the indignity, and boldly affirmed, that he
himself was the original, to whom Ferdinand was beholden for his
performance. The schoolmaster, nettled to find himself mistaken in his
judgment, resolved that the Count should have no cause to exult in the
discovery he had made, and, like a true flogger, actually whipped him for
having allowed Fathom to copy his exercise. Nay, in the hope of
vindicating his own penetration, he took an opportunity of questioning
Ferdinand in private concerning the circumstances of the translation, and
our hero, perceiving his drift, gave him such artful and ambiguous
answers, as persuaded him that the young Count had acted the part of a
plagiary, and that the other had been restrained from doing himself
justice, by the consideration of his own dependence.

This profound director did not fail, in honour of his own discernment, to
whisper about the misrepresentation, as an instance of the young Count's
insolence, and Fathom's humility and good sense. The story was
circulated among the servants, especially the maids belonging to the
family, whose favour our hero had acquired by his engaging behaviour; and
at length it reached the ears of his patron, who, incensed at his son's
presumption and inhospitality, called him to a severe account, when the
young gentleman absolutely denied the truth of the allegation, and
appealed to the evidence of Fathom himself. Our adventurer was
accordingly summoned by the father, and encouraged to declare the truth,
with an assurance of his constant protection; upon which Ferdinand very
wisely fell upon his knees, and, while the tears gushed from his eyes,
acquitted the young Count of the imputation, and expressed his
apprehension, that the report had been spread by some of his enemies, who
wanted to prejudice him in the opinion of his patron.

The old gentleman was not satisfied of his son's integrity by this
declaration; being naturally of a generous disposition, highly
prepossessed in favour of the poor orphan, and chagrined at the
unpromising appearance of his heir, he suspected that Fathom was overawed
by the fear of giving offence, and that, notwithstanding what he had
said, the case really stood as it had been represented. In this
persuasion, he earnestly exhorted his son to resist and combat with any
impulse he might feel within himself, tending to selfishness, fraud, or
imposition; to encourage every sentiment of candour and benevolence, and
to behave with moderation and affability to all his fellow-creatures. He
laid upon him strong injunctions, not without a mixture of threats, to
consider Fathom as the object of his peculiar regard; to respect him as
the son of the Count's preserver, as a Briton, a stranger, and, above
all, an helpless orphan, to whom the rights of hospitality were doubly
due.

Such admonitions were not lost upon the youth, who, under the rough husk
of his personal exhibition, possessed a large share of generous
sensibility. Without any formal professions to his father, he resolved
to govern himself according to his remonstrances; and, far from
conceiving the least spark of animosity against Fathom, he looked upon
the poor boy as the innocent cause of his disgrace, and redoubled his
kindness towards him, that his honour might never again be called
in question, upon the same subject. Nothing is more liable to
misconstruction than an act of uncommon generosity; one half of the world
mistake the motive, from want of ideas to conceive an instance of
beneficence that soars so high above the level of their own sentiments;
and the rest suspect it of something sinister or selfish, from the
suggestions of their own sordid and vicious inclinations. The young
Count subjected himself to such misinterpretation, among those who
observed the increased warmth of civility and complaisance in his
behaviour to Ferdinand. They ascribed it to his desire of still
profiting by our adventurer's superior talents, by which alone they
supposed him enabled to maintain any degree of reputation at school; or
to the fear of being convicted by him of some misdemeanour of which he
knew himself guilty. These suspicions were not effaced by the conduct of
Ferdinand, who, when examined on the subject, managed his answers in such
a manner, as confirmed their conjectures, while he pretended to refute
them, and at the same time acquired to himself credit for his
extraordinary discretion and self-denial.

If he exhibited such a proof of sagacity in the twelfth year of his age,
what might not be expected from his finesse in the maturity of his
faculties and experience? Thus secured in the good graces of the whole
family, he saw the days of his puerility glide along in the most
agreeable elapse of caresses and amusement. He never fairly plunged into
the stream of school-education, but, by floating on the surface, imbibed
a small tincture of those different sciences which his master pretended
to teach. In short, he resembled those vagrant swallows that skim along
the level of some pool or river, without venturing to wet one feather in
their wings, except in the accidental pursuit of an inconsiderable fly.
Yet, though his capacity or inclination was unsuited for studies of this
kind, he did not fail to manifest a perfect genius in the acquisition of
other more profitable arts. Over and above the accomplishments of
address, for which he hath been already celebrated, he excelled all his
fellows in his dexterity at fives and billiards; was altogether
unrivalled in his skill at draughts and backgammon; began, even at these
years, to understand the moves and schemes of chess; and made himself a
mere adept in the mystery of cards, which he learned in the course of his
assiduities and attention to the females of the house.

CHAPTER SIX

HE MEDITATES SCHEMES OF IMPORTANCE.

It was in these parties that he attracted the notice and friendship of
his patron's daughter, a girl by two years older than himself, who was
not insensible to his qualifications, and looked upon him with the most
favourable eyes of prepossession. Whether or not he at this period of
his life began to project plans for availing himself of her
susceptibility, is uncertain; but, without all doubt, he cultivated her
esteem with as obsequious and submissive attention as if he had already
formed the design, which, in his advanced age, he attempted to put in
execution.

Divers circumstances conspired to promote him in the favour of this young
lady; the greenness of his years secured him from any appearance of
fallacious aim; so that he was indulged in frequent opportunities of
conversing with his young mistress, whose parents encouraged this
communication, by which they hoped she would improve in speaking the
language of her father. Such connexions naturally produce intimacy and
friendship. Fathom's person was agreeable, his talents calculated for
the meridian of those parties, and his manners so engaging, that there
would have been no just subject for wonder, had he made an impression
upon the tender unexperienced heart of Mademoiselle de Melvil, whose
beauty was not so attractive as to extinguish his hope, in raising up a
number of formidable rivals; though her expectations of fortune were such
as commonly lend additional lustre to personal merit.

All these considerations were so many steps towards the success of
Ferdinand's pretensions; and though he cannot be supposed to have
perceived them at first, he in the sequel seemed perfectly well apprised
of his advantages, and used them to the full extent of his faculties.
Observing that she delighted in music, he betook himself to the study of
that art, and, by dint of application and a tolerable ear, learned of
himself to accompany her with a German flute, while she sung and played
upon the harpsichord. The Count, seeing his inclination, and the
progress he had made, resolved that his capacity should not be lost for
want of cultivation; and accordingly provided him with a master, by whom
he was instructed in the principles of the art, and soon became a
proficient in playing upon the violin.

In the practice of these improvements and avocations, and in attendance
upon his young master, whom he took care never to disoblige or neglect,
he attained to the age of sixteen, without feeling the least abatement in
the friendship and generosity of those upon whom he depended; but, on the
contrary, receiving every day fresh marks of their bounty and regard. He
had before this time been smit with the ambition of making a conquest of
the young lady's heart, and foresaw manifold advantages to himself in
becoming son-in-law to Count Melvil, who, he never doubted, would soon be
reconciled to the match, if once it could be effectuated without his
knowledge. Although he thought he had great reason to believe that
Mademoiselle looked upon him with an eye of peculiar favour, his
disposition was happily tempered with an ingredient of caution, that
hindered him from acting with precipitation; and he had discerned in the
young lady's deportment certain indications of loftiness and pride, which
kept him in the utmost vigilance and circumspection; for he knew, that,
by a premature declaration, he should run the risk of forfeiting all the
advantages he had gained, and blasting those expectations that now
blossomed so gaily in his heart.

Restricted by these reflections, he acted at a wary distance, and
determined to proceed by the method of sap, and, summoning all his
artifice and attractions to his aid, employed them under the insidious
cover of profound respect, in order to undermine those bulwarks of
haughtiness or discretion, which otherwise might have rendered his
approaches to her impracticable. With a view to enhance the value of his
company, and sound her sentiments at the same time, he became more
reserved than usual, and seldomer engaged in her parties of music and
cards; yet, in the midst of his reserve, he never failed in those
demonstrations of reverence and regard, which he knew perfectly well how
to express, but devised such excuses for his absence, as she could not
help admitting. In consequence of this affected shyness, she more than
once gently chid him for his neglect and indifference, observing, with an
ironical air, that he was now too much of a man to be entertained with
such effeminate diversions; but her reproofs were pronounced with too
much ease and good-humour to be agreeable to our hero, who desired to see
her ruffled and chagrined at his absence, and to hear himself rebuked
with an angry affectation of disdain. This effort, therefore, he
reinforced with the most captivating carriage he could assume, in those
hours which he now so sparingly bestowed upon his mistress. He regaled
her with all the entertaining stories he could learn or invent,
particularly such as he thought would justify and recommend the levelling
power of love, that knows no distinctions of fortune. He sung nothing
but tender airs and passionate complaints, composed by desponding or
despairing swains; and, to render his performances of this kind the more
pathetic, interlarded them with some seasonable sighs, while the tears,
which he had ever at command, stood collected in either eye.

It was impossible for her to overlook such studied emotions; she in a
jocose manner taxed him with having lost his heart, rallied the excess of
his passion, and in a merry strain undertook to be an advocate for his
love. Her behaviour was still wide of his wish and expectation. He
thought she would, in consequence of her discovery, have betrayed some
interested symptom; that her face would have undergone some favourable
suffusion; that her tongue would have faltered, her breast heaved, and
her whole deportment betokened internal agitation and disorder, in which
case, he meant to profit by the happy impression, and declare himself,
before she could possibly recollect the dictates of her pride.--Baffled
however in his endeavours, by the serenity of the young lady, which he
still deemed equivocal, he had recourse to another experiment, by which
he believed he should make a discovery of her sentiments beyond all
possibility of doubt. One day, while he accompanied Mademoiselle in her
exercise of music, he pretended all of a sudden to be taken ill, and
counterfeited a swoon in her apartment. Surprised at this accident, she
screamed aloud, but far from running to his assistance, with the
transports and distraction of a lover, she ordered her maid, who was
present, to support his head, and went in person to call for more help.
He was accordingly removed to his own chamber, where, willing to be still
more certified of her inclinations, he prolonged the farce, and lay
groaning under the pretence of a severe fever.

The whole family was alarmed upon this occasion; for, as we have already
observed, he was an universal favourite. He was immediately visited by
the old Count and his lady, who expressed the utmost concern at his
distemper, ordered him to be carefully attended, and sent for a physician
without loss of time. The young gentleman would scarce stir from his
bedside, where he ministered unto him with all the demonstrations of
brotherly affection; and Miss exhorted him to keep up his spirits, with
many expressions of unreserved sympathy and regard. Nevertheless, he saw
nothing in her behaviour but what might be naturally expected from common
friendship, and a compassionate disposition, and was very much mortified
at his disappointment.

Whether the miscarriage actually affected his constitution, or the doctor
happened to be mistaken in his diagnostics, we shall not pretend to
determine; but the patient was certainly treated secundum artem, and all
his complaints in a little time realised; for the physician, like a true
graduate, had an eye to the apothecary in his prescriptions; and such was
the concern and scrupulous care with which our hero was attended, that
the orders of the faculty were performed with the utmost punctuality. He
was blooded, vomited, purged, and blistered, in the usual forms (for the
physicians of Hungary are generally as well skilled in the arts of their
occupation as any other leeches under the sun), and swallowed a whole
dispensary of bolusses, draughts, and apozems, by which means he became
fairly delirious in three days, and so untractable, that he could be no
longer managed according to rule; otherwise, in all likelihood, the world
would never have enjoyed the benefit of these adventures. In short, his
constitution, though unable to cope with two such formidable antagonists
as the doctor and the disease he had conjured up, was no sooner rid of
the one, than it easily got the better of the other; and though
Ferdinand, after all, found his grand aim unaccomplished, his malady was
productive of a consequence, which, though he had not foreseen it, he did
not fail to convert to his own use and advantage.

CHAPTER SEVEN

ENGAGES IN PARTNERSHIP WITH A FEMALE ASSOCIATE, IN ORDER TO PUT HIS
TALENTS IN ACTION.

While he displayed his qualifications in order to entrap the heart of his
young mistress, he had unwittingly enslaved the affections of her maid.
This attendant was also a favourite of the young lady, and, though her
senior by two or three good years at least, unquestionably her superior
in point of personal beauty; she moreover possessed a good stock of
cunning and discernment, and was furnished by nature with a very amorous
complexion. These circumstances being premised, the reader will not be
surprised to find her smitten by those uncommon qualifications which we
have celebrated in young Fathom. She had in good sooth long sighed in
secret, under the powerful influence of his charms, and practised upon
him all those little arts, by which a woman strives to attract the
admiration, and ensnare the heart of a man she loves; but all his
faculties were employed upon the plan which he had already projected;
that was the goal of his whole attention, to which all his measures
tended; and whether or not he perceived the impression he had made upon
Teresa, he never gave her the least reason to believe he was conscious of
his victory, until he found himself baffled in his design upon the heart
of her mistress.--She therefore persevered in her distant attempts to
allure him, with the usual coquetries of dress and address, and, in the
sweet hope of profiting by his susceptibility, made shift to suppress her
feelings, and keep her passion within bounds, until his supposed danger
alarmed her fears, and raised such a tumult within her breast, that she
could no longer conceal her love, but gave a loose to her sorrow in the
most immoderate expressions of anguish and affliction, and, while his
delirium lasted, behaved with all the agitation of a despairing
shepherdess.

Ferdinand was, or pretended to be, the last person in the family who
understood the situation of her thoughts; when he perceived her passion,
he entered into deliberation with himself, and tasked his reflection and
foresight, in order to discover how best he might convert this conquest
to his own advantage. Here, then, that we may neglect no opportunity of
doing justice to our hero, it will be proper to observe, that, howsoever
unapt his understanding might be to receive and retain the usual culture
of the schools, he was naturally a genius self-taught, in point of
sagacity and invention.--He dived into the characters of mankind, with a
penetration peculiar to himself, and, had he been admitted as a pupil in
any political academy, would have certainly become one of the ablest
statesmen in Europe.

Having revolved all the probable consequences of such a connexion, he
determined to prosecute an amour with the lady whose affection he had
subdued; because he hoped to interest her as an auxiliary in his grand
scheme upon Mademoiselle, which he did not as yet think proper to lay
aside; for he was not more ambitious in the plan, than indefatigable in
the prosecution of it. He knew it would be impossible to execute his
aims upon the Count's daughter under the eye of Teresa, whose natural
discernment would be whetted with jealousy, and who would watch his
conduct, and thwart his progress with all the vigilance and spite of a
slighted maiden. On the other hand, he did not doubt of being able to
bring her over to his interest, by the influence he had already gained,
or might afterwards acquire over her passions; in which case, she would
effectually espouse his cause, and employ her good offices with her
mistress in his behalf; besides, he was induced by another motive, which,
though secondary, did not fail in this case to have an effect upon his
determination. He looked upon Teresa with the eyes of appetite, which he
longed to gratify; for he was not at all dead to the instigations of the
flesh, though he had philosophy enough to resist them, when he thought
they interfered with his interest. Here the case was quite different.
His desire happened to be upon the side of his advantage, and therefore,
resolving to indulge it, he no sooner found himself in a condition to
manage such an adventure, than he began to make gradual advances in point
of warmth and particular complacency to the love-sick maid.

He first of all thanked her, in the most grateful terms, for the concern
she had manifested at his distemper, and the kind services he had
received from her during the course of it; he treated her upon all
occasions with unusual affability and regard, assiduously courted her
acquaintance and conversation, and contracted an intimacy that in a
little time produced a declaration of love. Although her heart was too
much intendered to hold out against all the forms of assault, far from
yielding at discretion, she stood upon honourable terms, with great
obstinacy of punctilio, and, while she owned he was master of her
inclinations, gave him to understand, with a peremptory and resolute air,
that he should never make a conquest of her virtue; observing, that, if
the passion he professed was genuine, he would not scruple to give such a
proof of it as would at once convince her of his sincerity; and that he
could have no just cause to refuse her that satisfaction, she being his
equal in point of birth and situation; for, if he was the companion and
favourite of the young Count, she was the friend and confidant of
Mademoiselle.

He acknowledged the strength of her argument, and that her condescension
was greater than his deserts, but objected against the proposal, as
infinitely prejudicial to the fortunes of them both. He represented the
state of dependence in which they mutually stood; their utter incapacity
to support one another under the consequences of a precipitate match,
clandestinely made, without the consent and concurrence of their patrons.
He displayed, with great eloquence, all those gay expectations they had
reason to entertain, from that eminent degree of favour which they had
already secured in the family; and set forth, in the most alluring
colours, those enchanting scenes of pleasure they might enjoy in each
other, without that disagreeable consciousness of a nuptial chain,
provided she would be his associate in the execution of a plan which he
had projected for their reciprocal convenience.

Having thus inflamed her love of pleasure and curiosity, he, with great
caution, hinted his design upon the young lady's fortune, and, perceiving
her listening with the most greedy attention, and perfectly ripe for the
conspiracy, he disclosed his intention at full length, assuring her, with
the most solemn protestations of love and attachment, that, could he once
make himself legal possessor of an estate which Mademoiselle inherited by
the will of a deceased aunt, his dear Teresa should reap the happy fruits
of his affluence, and wholly engross his time and attention.

Such a base declaration our hero would not have ventured to make, had he
not implicitly believed the damsel was as great a latitudinarian as
himself, in point of morals and principle; and been well assured, that,
though he should be mistaken in her way of thinking, so far as to be
threatened with a detection of his purpose, he would always have it in
his power to refute her accusation as mere calumny, by the character he
had hitherto maintained, and the circumspection of his future conduct.

He seldom or never erred in his observations on the human heart. Teresa,
instead of disapproving, relished the plan in general, with
demonstrations of singular satisfaction. She at once conceived all the
advantageous consequences of such a scheme, and perceived in it only one
flaw, which, however, she did not think incurable. This defect was no
other than a sufficient bond of union, by which they might be effectually
tied down to their mutual interest. She foresaw, that, in case Ferdinand
should obtain possession of the prize, he might, with great ease, deny
their contract, and disavow her claim of participation. She therefore
demanded security, and proposed, as a preliminary of the agreement, that
he should privately take her to wife, with a view to dispel all her
apprehensions of his inconstancy or deceit, as such a previous engagement
would be a check upon his behaviour, and keep him strictly to the letter
of their contract.

He could not help subscribing to the righteousness of this proposal,
which, nevertheless, he would have willingly waived, on the supposition
that they could not possibly be joined in the bands of wedlock with such
secrecy as the nature of the case absolutely required. This would have
been a difficulty soon removed, had the scene of the transaction been
laid in the metropolis of England, where passengers are plied in the
streets by clergymen, who prostitute their characters and consciences for
hire, in defiance of all decency and law; but in the kingdom of Hungary,
ecclesiastics are more scrupulous in the exercise of their function, and
the objection was, or supposed to be, altogether insurmountable; so that
they were fain to have recourse to an expedient, with which, after some
hesitation, our she-adventurer was satisfied. They joined hands in the
sight of Heaven, which they called to witness, and to judge the sincerity
of their vows, and engaged, in a voluntary oath, to confirm their union
by the sanction of the church, whenever a convenient opportunity for so
doing should occur.

The scruples of Teresa being thus removed, she admitted Ferdinand to the
privileges of a husband, which he enjoyed in stolen interviews, and
readily undertook to exert her whole power in promoting his suit with her
young mistress, because she now considered his interest as inseparably
connected with her own. Surely nothing could be more absurd or
preposterous than the articles of this covenant, which she insisted upon
with such inflexibility. How could she suppose that her pretended lover
would be restrained by an oath, when the very occasion of incurring it
was an intention to act in violation of all laws human and divine? and
yet such ridiculous conjuration is commonly the cement of every
conspiracy, how dark, how treacherous, how impious soever it may be: a
certain sign that there are some remains of religion left in the human
mind, even after every moral sentiment hath abandoned it; and that the
most execrable ruffian finds means to quiet the suggestions of his
conscience, by some reversionary hope of Heaven's forgiveness.

CHAPTER EIGHT

THEIR FIRST ATTEMPT; WITH A DIGRESSION WHICH SOME READERS MAY THINK
IMPERTINENT.

Be this as it will, our lovers, though real voluptuaries, amidst the
first transports of their enjoyment did not neglect the great political
aim of their conjunction. Teresa's bedchamber, to which our hero
constantly repaired at midnight, was the scene of their deliberations,
and there it was determined that the damsel, in order to avoid suspicion,
should feign herself irritated at the indifference of Ferdinand, her
passion for whom was by this time no secret in the family; and that, with
a view to countenance this affectation, he should upon all occasions
treat her with an air of loftiness and disdain.