BOOK X. IN WHICH THE HISTORY GOES FORWARD ABOUT TWELVE HOURS.
9. Chapter ix. The escape of Sophia.
(continued)
Sophia could have no possible suspicion of any falsehood in this
account: she therefore mounted resolutely behind the fellow, who
conveyed her safe to a town about five miles distant, where she had
the satisfaction of finding the good Mrs Honour: for, as the soul of
the waiting-woman was wrapt up in those very habiliments which used to
enwrap her body, she could by no means bring herself to trust them out
of her sight. Upon these, therefore, she kept guard in person, while
she detached the aforesaid fellow after her mistress, having given him
all proper instructions.
They now debated what course to take, in order to avoid the pursuit of
Mr Western, who they knew would send after them in a few hours. The
London road had such charms for Honour, that she was desirous of going
on directly; alleging that, as Sophia could not be missed till eight
or nine the next morning, her pursuers would not be able to overtake
her, even though they knew which way she had gone. But Sophia had too
much at stake to venture anything to chance; nor did she dare trust
too much to her tender limbs, in a contest which was to be decided
only by swiftness. She resolved, therefore, to travel across the
country, for at least twenty or thirty miles, and then to take the
direct road to London. So, having hired horses to go twenty miles one
way, when she intended to go twenty miles the other, she set forward
with the same guide behind whom she had ridden from her father's
house; the guide having now taken up behind him, in the room of
Sophia, a much heavier, as well as much less lovely burden; being,
indeed, a huge portmanteau, well stuffed with those outside ornaments,
by means of which the fair Honour hoped to gain many conquests, and,
finally, to make her fortune in London city.
When they had gone about two hundred paces from the inn on the London
road, Sophia rode up to the guide, and, with a voice much fuller of
honey than was ever that of Plato, though his mouth is supposed to
have been a bee-hive, begged him to take the first turning which led
towards Bristol.
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