# The History of the Adventures of Joseph Andrews and his Friend, Mr. Abraham Abrams/Book II, Chapter X

CHAPTER X.
_Giving an account of the strange catastrophe of the preceding
adventure, which drew poor Adams into fresh calamities; and who the
woman was who owed the preservation of her chastity to his
victorious arm._
The silence of Adams, added to the darkness of the night and loneliness
of the place, struck dreadful apprehension into the poor woman's mind;
she began to fear as great an enemy in her deliverer as he had
delivered her from; and as she had not light enough to discover the age
of Adams, and the benevolence visible in his countenance, she suspected
he had used her as some very honest men have used their country; and had
rescued her out of the hands of one rifler in order to rifle her
himself. Such were the suspicions she drew from his silence; but indeed
they were ill-grounded. He stood over his vanquished enemy, wisely
weighing in his mind the objections which might be made to either of the
two methods of proceeding mentioned in the last chapter, his judgment
sometimes inclining to the one, and sometimes to the other; for both
seemed to him so equally advisable and so equally dangerous, that
probably he would have ended his days, at least two or three of them, on
that very spot, before he had taken any resolution; at length he lifted
up his eyes, and spied a light at a distance, to which he instantly
addressed himself with _Heus tu, traveller, heus tu!_ He presently heard
several voices, and perceived the light approaching toward him. The
persons who attended the light began some to laugh, others to sing, and
others to hollow, at which the woman testified some fear (for she had
concealed her suspicions of the parson himself); but Adams said, "Be of
good cheer, damsel, and repose thy trust in the same Providence which
hath hitherto protected thee, and never will forsake the innocent."
These people, who now approached, were no other, reader, than a set of
young fellows, who came to these bushes in pursuit of a diversion which
they call bird-batting. This, if you are ignorant of it (as perhaps if
thou hast never travelled beyond Kensington, Islington, Hackney, or the
Borough, thou mayst be), I will inform thee, is performed by holding a
large clap-net before a lanthorn, and at the same time beating the
bushes; for the birds, when they are disturbed from their places of
rest, or roost, immediately make to the light, and so are inticed
within the net. Adams immediately told them what happened, and desired
them to hold the lanthorn to the face of the man on the ground, for he
feared he had smote him fatally. But indeed his fears were frivolous;
for the fellow, though he had been stunned by the last blow he received,
had long since recovered his senses, and, finding himself quit of Adams,
had listened attentively to the discourse between him and the young
woman; for whose departure he had patiently waited, that he might
likewise withdraw himself, having no longer hopes of succeeding in his
desires, which were moreover almost as well cooled by Mr Adams as they
could have been by the young woman herself had he obtained his utmost
wish. This fellow, who had a readiness at improving any accident,
thought he might now play a better part than that of a dead man; and,
accordingly, the moment the candle was held to his face he leapt up,
and, laying hold on Adams, cried out, "No, villain, I am not dead,
though you and your wicked whore might well think me so, after the
barbarous cruelties you have exercised on me. Gentlemen," said he, "you
are luckily come to the assistance of a poor traveller, who would
otherwise have been robbed and murdered by this vile man and woman, who
led me hither out of my way from the high-road, and both falling on me
have used me as you see." Adams was going to answer, when one of the
young fellows cried, "D--n them, let's carry them both before the
justice." The poor woman began to tremble, and Adams lifted up his
voice, but in vain. Three or four of them laid hands on him; and one
holding the lanthorn to his face, they all agreed he had the most
villainous countenance they ever beheld; and an attorney's clerk, who
was of the company, declared he was sure he had remembered him at the
bar. As to the woman, her hair was dishevelled in the struggle, and her
nose had bled; so that they could not perceive whether she was handsome
or ugly, but they said her fright plainly discovered her guilt. And
searching her pockets, as they did those of Adams, for money, which the
fellow said he had lost, they found in her pocket a purse with some gold
in it, which abundantly convinced them, especially as the fellow offered
to swear to it. Mr Adams was found to have no more than one halfpenny
about him. This the clerk said "was a great presumption that he was an
old offender, by cunningly giving all the booty to the woman." To which
all the rest readily assented.
This accident promising them better sport than what they had proposed,
they quitted their intention of catching birds, and unanimously resolved
to proceed to the justice with the offenders. Being informed what a
desperate fellow Adams was, they tied his hands behind him; and, having
hid their nets among the bushes, and the lanthorn being carried before
them, they placed the two prisoners in their front, and then began their
march; Adams not only submitting patiently to his own fate, but
comforting and encouraging his companion under her sufferings.
Whilst they were on their way the clerk informed the rest that this
adventure would prove a very beneficial one; for that they would all be
entitled to their proportions of £80 for apprehending the robbers. This
occasioned a contention concerning the parts which they had severally
borne in taking them; one insisting he ought to have the greatest share,
for he had first laid his hands on Adams; another claiming a superior
part for having first held the lanthorn to the man's face on the ground,
by which, he said, "the whole was discovered." The clerk claimed
four-fifths of the reward for having proposed to search the prisoners,
and likewise the carrying them before the justice: he said, "Indeed, in
strict justice, he ought to have the whole." These claims, however,
they at last consented to refer to a future decision, but seemed all to
agree that the clerk was entitled to a moiety. They then debated what
money should be allotted to the young fellow who had been employed only
in holding the nets. He very modestly said, "That he did not apprehend
any large proportion would fall to his share, but hoped they would allow
him something; he desired them to consider that they had assigned their
nets to his care, which prevented him from being as forward as any in
laying hold of the robbers" (for so those innocent people were called);
"that if he had not occupied the nets, some other must;" concluding,
however, "that he should be contented with the smallest share
imaginable, and should think that rather their bounty than his merit."
But they were all unanimous in excluding him from any part whatever, the
clerk particularly swearing, "If they gave him a shilling they might do
what they pleased with the rest; for he would not concern himself with
the affair." This contention was so hot, and so totally engaged the
attention of all the parties, that a dexterous nimble thief, had he been
in Mr Adams's situation, would have taken care to have given the justice
no trouble that evening. Indeed, it required not the art of a Sheppard
to escape, especially as the darkness of the night would have so much
befriended him; but Adams trusted rather to his innocence than his
heels, and, without thinking of flight, which was easy, or resistance
(which was impossible, as there were six lusty young fellows, besides
the villain himself, present), he walked with perfect resignation the
way they thought proper to conduct him.
Adams frequently vented himself in ejaculations during their journey; at
last, poor Joseph Andrews occurring to his mind, he could not refrain
sighing forth his name, which being heard by his companion in
affliction, she cried with some vehemence, "Sure I should know that
voice; you cannot certainly, sir, be Mr Abraham Adams?"--"Indeed,
damsel," says he, "that is my name; there is something also in your
voice which persuades me I have heard it before."--"La! sir," says she,
"don't you remember poor Fanny?"--"How, Fanny!" answered Adams: "indeed
I very well remember you; what can have brought you hither?"--"I have
told you, sir," replied she, "I was travelling towards London; but I
thought you mentioned Joseph Andrews; pray what is become of him?"--"I
left him, child, this afternoon," said Adams, "in the stage-coach, in
his way towards our parish, whither he is going to see you."--"To see
me! La, sir," answered Fanny, "sure you jeer me; what should he be going
to see me for?"--"Can you ask that?" replied Adams. "I hope, Fanny, you
are not inconstant; I assure you he deserves much better of you."--"La!
Mr Adams," said she, "what is Mr Joseph to me? I am sure I never had
anything to say to him, but as one fellow-servant might to another."--"I
am sorry to hear this," said Adams; "a virtuous passion for a young man
is what no woman need be ashamed of. You either do not tell me truth, or
you are false to a very worthy man." Adams then told her what had
happened at the inn, to which she listened very attentively; and a sigh
often escaped from her, notwithstanding her utmost endeavours to the
contrary; nor could she prevent herself from asking a thousand
questions, which would have assured any one but Adams, who never saw
farther into people than they desired to let him, of the truth of a
passion she endeavoured to conceal. Indeed, the fact was, that this poor
girl, having heard of Joseph's misfortune, by some of the servants
belonging to the coach which we have formerly mentioned to have stopt at
the inn while the poor youth was confined to his bed, that instant
abandoned the cow she was milking, and, taking with her a little bundle
of clothes under her arm, and all the money she was worth in her own
purse, without consulting any one, immediately set forward in pursuit of
one whom, notwithstanding her shyness to the parson, she loved with
inexpressible violence, though with the purest and most delicate
passion. This shyness, therefore, as we trust it will recommend her
character to all our female readers, and not greatly surprize such of
our males as are well acquainted with the younger part of the other sex,
we shall not give ourselves any trouble to vindicate.