The Expedition of Humphry Clinker

150 TOBIAS SMOLLETT
so effectually, that he received him in the most hospitable manner,
though there was a necessity for equipping him with a suit of irons,
in which he made a very rueful appearance. The poor creature
seemed as much affected by my uncle’s kindness, as by his own mis-
fortune. When I assured him, that nothing should be left undone
for procuring his enlargement, and making his confinement easy
in the mean time, he fell down on his knees, and kissing my hand,
which he bathed with his tears, ‘O ’squire! (cried he, sobbing)
what shall I say?—I can’t—no, I can’t speak—my poor heart is
bursting with gratitude to you and my dear—dear—generous—
noble benefactor.’
I protest, the scene became so pathetic, that I was fain to force
myself away, and returned to my uncle, who sent me in the after-
noon with a compliment to one Mr. Mead, the person who had
been robbed on Black-heath. As I did not find him at home, I left
a message, in consequence of which he called at our lodgings this
morning, and very humanely agreed to visit the prisoner. By this
time, lady Griskin had come to make her formal compliments of
condolance to Mrs. Tabitha, on this domestic calamity; and that
prudent maiden, whose passion was now cooled, thought proper
to receive her ladyship so civilly, that a reconciliation immediately
ensued. These two ladies resolved to comfort the poor prisoner in
their own persons, and Mr. Mead and I ’squired them to Clerken-
well, my uncle being detained at home by some slight complaints
in his stomach and bowels.
The turnkey, who received us at Clerkenwell, looked remarkably
sullen; and when we enquired for Clinker, ‘I don’t care, if the devil
had him; (said he) here has been nothing but canting and praying
since the fellow entered the place.—Rabbit him! the tap will be
ruined—we han’t sold a cask of beer, nor a dozen of wine, since he
paid his garnish—the gentlemen get drunk with nothing but your
damned religion.—For my part, I believe as how your man deals
with the devil.—Two or three as bold hearts as ever took the air upon
Hounslow, have been blubbering all night; and if the fellow an’t
speedily removed by Habeas Corpus, or otherwise, I’ll be damn’d if
there’s a grain of true spirit left within these walls—we shan’t have
a soul to do credit to the place, or make his exit like a true-born
Englishman—damn my eyes! there will be nothing but snivelling in
the cart—we shall all die like so many psalm-singing weavers.’
In short, we found that Humphry was, at that very instant,