1Narcissa being in danger from the brutality of Sir Timothy, is rescued by me, who revenge myself on my rival—I declare my passion, and retreat to the seaside—am surrounded by smugglers, and carried to Boulogne—find my Uncle Lieutenant Bowling in great distress, and relieve him—our conversation

2At certain intervals my ambition would revive; I would despise myself for my tame resignation to my sordid fate, and revolve a hundred schemes for assuming the character of a gentleman, to which I thought myself entitled by birth and education. In these fruitless suggestions time stole away unperceived, and I had already remained eight months in the station of a footman, when an accident happened that put an end to my servitude, and, for the present, banished all hopes of succeeding in my love.

3Narcissa went one day to visit Miss Thicket, who lived with her brother within less than a mile of our house, and was persuaded to walk home in the cool of the evening, accompanied by Sir Timothy, who, having a good deal of the brute in him, was instigated to use some unbecoming familiarities with her, encouraged by the solitariness of a field through which they passed. The lovely creature was incensed at his rude behaviour for which she reproached him in such a manner that he lost all regard to decency, and actually offered violence to this pattern of innocence and beauty. But Heaven would not suffer so much goodness to be violated, and sent me, who, passing by accident near the place, was alarmed with her cries, for her succour. What were the emotions of my soul, when I beheld Narcissa almost sinking beneath the brutal force of this satyr! I flew like lightning to her rescue, and he, perceiving me, quitted his prey, and drew his hanger to chastise my presumption. My indignation was too high to admit one thought of fear, so that, rushing upon him, I struck his weapon out of his hand, and used my cudgel so successfully that he fell to the ground, and lay, to all appearance, without sense. Then I turned to Narcissa, who had swooned, and sitting down by her, gently raised her head, and supported it on my bosom, while, with my hand around her waist, I kept her in that position. My soul was thrilled with tumultuous joy, at feeling the object of my dearest wishes within my arms; and, while she lay insensible, I could not refrain from applying my cheeks to hers, and ravishing a kiss. In a little time the blood began to revisit her face, she opened her enchanting eyes, and, having recollected her late situation, said, with a look full of tender acknowledgment, “Dear John, I am eternally obliged to you!” So saying she made an effort to rise, in which I assisted her, and she proceeded to the house, leaning upon me all the way. I was a thousand times tempted by this opportunity to declare my passion, but the dread of disobliging her restrained my tongue. We had not moved a hundred paces from the scene of her distress, when I perceived Sir Timothy rise and walk homeward—a circumstance which, though it gave me some satisfaction, inasmuch as I thereby knew I had not killed him, filled me with just apprehension of his resentment, which I found myself in no condition to withstand; especially when I considered his intimacy with our squire, to whom I knew he could justify himself for what he had done, by imputing it to his love, and desiring his brother Bruin to take the same liberty with his sister, without any fear of offence.

4When we arrived at the house, Narcissa assured me she would exert all her influence in protecting me from the revenge of Thicket, and likewise engage her aunt in my favour. At the same time, pulling out her purse, offered it as a small consideration for the service I had done her. But I stood too much upon the punctilios of love to incur the least suspicion of being mercenary, and refused the present, by saying I had merited nothing by barely doing my duty. She seemed astonished at my disinterestedness, and blushed: I felt the same suffusion, and, with a downcast eye and broken accent, told her I had one request to make, which, if her generosity would grant, I should think myself fully recompensed, for an age of misery. She changed colour at this preamble, and, with great confusion, replied, she hoped my good sense would hinder me from asking anything she was bound in honour to refuse, and therefore bade me signify my desire. Upon which I kneeled, and engaged to kiss her hand. She immediately, with an averted look, stretched it out: I imprinted on it an ardent kiss, and, bathing it with my tears, cried, “Dear Madam, I am an unfortunate gentleman, and love you to distraction, but would have died a thousand deaths rather than make this declaration under such a servile appearance, were I not determined to yield to the rigour of my fate, to fly from your bewitching presence, and bury my presumptuous passion in eternal silence.” With these words I rose, and went away before she could recover her spirits so far as to make any reply.

5My first care was to go and consult Mrs. Sagely, with whom I had entertained a friendly correspondence ever since I left her house. When she understood my situation, the good woman, with real concern, condoled with me on my unhappy fate, and approved of my resolution to leave the country, as being perfectly well acquainted with the barbarous disposition of my rival, “who, by this time,” said she, “has no doubt meditated a scheme of revenge. Indeed, I cannot see how you will be able to elude his vengeance; being himself in the commission, he will immediately grant warrants for apprehending you; and, as almost all the people in this country are dependent on him or his friend, it will be impossible for you to find shelter among them. If you should be apprehended, he will commit you to jail, where you may possibly in great misery languish till the next assizes, and then be transported for assaulting a magistrate.”

6While she thus warned me of my danger, we heard a knocking at the door, which threw us both into great consternation, as in all probability, it was occasioned by my pursuers; whereupon this generous old lady, putting two guineas into my hand, with tears in her eyes, bade me, for God’s sake, get out at the back-door and consult my safety as Providence should direct me. There was no time for deliberation. I followed her advice, and escaped by the benefit of a dark night to the seaside, where, while I ruminated on my next excursion, I was all of a sudden surrounded by armed men, who, having bound my hands and feet, bade me make no noise on pain of being shot, and carried me on board of a vessel, which I soon perceived to be a smuggling cutter. This discovery gave me some satisfaction at first, because I concluded myself safe from the resentment of Sir Timothy; but, when I found myself in the hands of ruffians, who threatened to execute me for a spy, I would have thought myself happily quit for a year’s imprisonment, or even transportation. It was in vain for me to protest my innocence: I could not persuade them that I had taken a solitary walk to their haunt, at such an hour, merely for my own amusement; and I did not think it my interest to disclose the true cause of my retreat, because I was afraid they would have made their peace with justice by surrendering me to the penalty of the law. What confirmed their suspicion was, the appearance of a custom-house yacht, which gave them chase, and had well nigh made a prize of their vessel; when they were delivered from their fears by a thick fog, which effectually screened them, and favoured their arrival at Boulogne. But, before they got out of sight of their pursuer, they held a council of war about me, and some of the most ferocious among them would have thrown me overboard as a traitor who had betrayed them to their enemies; but others, more considerate, alleged, that if they put me to death, and should afterwards be taken, they could expect no mercy from the legislature, which would never pardon outlawry aggravated by murder. It was therefore determined by a plurality of votes, that I should be set on shore in France, and left to find my way back to England, as I should think proper, this being punishment sufficient for the bare suspicion of a crime in itself not capital.

7Although this favourable determination gave me great pleasure, the apprehension of being robbed would not suffer me to be perfectly at ease. To prevent this calamity, as soon as I was untied, in consequence of the aforesaid decision, I tore a small hole in one of my stockings, into which I dropped six guineas, reserving half a piece and some silver in my pocket, that, finding something, they might not be tempted to make any further inquiry. This was a very necessary precaution, for, when we came within sight of the French shore, one of the smugglers told me, I must pay for my passage. To this declaration I replied, that my passage was none of my own seeking; therefore they could not expect a reward from me for transporting me into a strange country by force. “D—me!” said the outlaw, “none of your palaver; but let me see what money you have got.” So saying, he thrust his hand into my pocket without any ceremony, and emptied it of the contents; then, casting an eye at my hat and wig, which captivated his fancy, he took them off, clapping his own on my head, declared, that a fair exchange was no robbery. I was fain to put up with this bargain, which was by no means favourable to me; and a little while after we went all on shore together.

8I resolved to take my leave of those desperadoes without much ceremony, when one of them cautioned me against appearing to their prejudice if ever I returned to England, unless I had a mind to be murdered; for which service, he assured me, the gang never wanted agents. I promised to observe his advice, and departed for the Upper Town, where I inquired for a cabaret, or public-house, into which I went, with an intention of taking some refreshment. In the kitchen, five Dutch sailors sat at breakfast with a large loaf, a firkin of butter, and a keg of brandy, the bung of which they often applied to their mouths with great perseverance and satisfaction. At some distance from them I perceived another person in the same garb, sitting in a pensive solitary manner, entertaining himself with a whiff of tobacco, from the stump of a pipe as black as jet. The appearance of distress never failed to attract my regard and compassion. I approached this forlorn tar with a view to offer him my assistance, and, notwithstanding the alteration of dress and disguise of a long beard, I discovered in him my long lost and lamented uncle and benefactor, Lieutenant Bowling! Good Heaven! what were the agitations of my soul, between the joy of finding again such a valuable friend, and the sorrow of seeing him in such a low condition! The tears gushed down my cheeks; I stood motionless and silent for some time. At length, recovering the use of speech, I exclaimed, “Gracious God! Mr. Bowling!” My uncle no sooner heard his name mentioned, than he started up, crying, with some surprise, “Holla!” and, after having looked at me steadfastly, without being able to recollect me, said, “Did you call me, brother,” I told him I had something extraordinary to communicate, and desired him to give me the hearing for a few minutes in another room; but he would by no means consent to this proposal, saying, “Avast there, friend: none of your tricks upon travellers;—if you have anything to say to me, do it above board;—you need not be afraid of being overheard;—here are none who understand our lingo.” Though I was loth to discover myself before company, I could no longer refrain from telling him I was his own nephew, Roderick Random. On this information, he considered me with great earnestness and astonishment, and, recalling my features, which, though enlarged, were not entirely altered since he had seen me, came up, and shook me by the hand very cordially, protesting he was glad to see me well. After some pause, he went on thus; “And yet, my lad, I am sorry to see you under such colours; the more so, as it is not in my power, at present, to change them for the better, times being very hard with me,” With these words I could perceive a tear trickle down his furrowed cheek, which affected me so much that I wept bitterly.

9Imagining my sorrow was the effect of my own misfortunes, he comforted me with observing, that life was a voyage in which we must expect to meet with all weathers; sometimes was calm, sometimes rough; that a fair gale often succeeded a storm; that the wind did not always sit one way, and that despair signified nothing; that resolution and skill were better than a stout vessel: for why? because they require no carpenter, and grow stronger the more labour they undergo. I dried up my tears, which I assured him were not shed for my own distress, but for his, and begged leave to accompany him into another room, where we could converse more at our ease. There I recounted to him the ungenerous usage I had met with from Potion; at which relation he started up, stalked across the room three or four times in a great hurry, and, grasping his cudgel, cried, “I would I were alongside of him—that’s all—I would I were alongside of him!” I then gave him a detail of my adventures and sufferings, which affected him more than I could have imagined; and concluded with telling him that Captain Oakun was still alive, and that he might return to England when he would to solicit his affairs, without danger or molestation. He was wonderfully pleased with this piece of information, of which, however, he said he could not at present avail himself, for want of money to pay for his passage to London. This objection I soon removed, by putting five guineas into his hand, and telling him I thought myself extremely happy in having an opportunity of manifesting my gratitude to him in his necessity. But it was with the utmost difficulty I could prevail upon him to accept of two, which he affirmed were more than sufficient to defray the necessary expense.

10After this friendly contest was over, he proposed we should have a mess of something; “For,” said he, “it has been banyan day with me a great while. You must know I was shipwrecked, five days ago, near a place called Lisieux, in company with those Dutchmen who are now drinking below; and having but little money when I came ashore, it was soon spent, because I let them have share and share while it lasted. Howsomever, I should have remembered the old saying, every hog his own apple; for when they found my hold unstowed, they went all hands to shooling and begging; and, because I would not take a spell at the same duty, refused to give me the least assistance; so that I have not broke bread these two days.” I was shocked at the extremity of his distress, and ordered some bread, cheese, and wine, to be brought immediately, to allay his hunger, until a fricassee of chickens could be prepared. When he had recruited his spirits with this homely fare, I desired to know the particulars of his peregrination since the accident at Cape Tiberoon, which were briefly these: The money he had about him being all spent at Port Louis, the civility and hospitality of the French cooled to such a degree, that he was obliged to list on board one of their king’s ships as a common foremast man, to prevent himself from starving on shore. In this situation he continued two years, during which time he had acquired some knowledge of their language, and the reputation of a good seaman; the ship he belonged to was ordered home to France, where she was laid up as unfit for service, and he was received on board one of Monsieur D’Antin’s squadron, in quality of quartermaster; which office he performed in a voyage to the West Indies, where he engaged with our ship, as before related; but his conscience upbraiding him for serving the one enemies of his country, he quitted the ship at the same place where he first listed, and got to Curacoa in a Dutch vessel; there he bargained with a skipper, bound to Europe, to work for his passage to Holland, from whence he was in hopes of hearing from his friends in England; but was cast away, as he mentioned before, on the French coast, and must have been reduced to the necessity of travelling on foot to Holland, and begging for his subsistence on the road, or of entering on board of another French man-of-war, at the hazard of being treated as a deserter, if Providence had not sent me to his succour. “And now, my lad,” continued he, “I think I shall steer my course directly to London, where I do not doubt of being replaced, and of having the R taken off me by the Lords of the Admiralty, to whom I intend to write a petition, setting forth my case; if I succeed, I shall have wherewithal to give you some assistance, because, when I left the ship, I had two years’ pay due to me, therefore I desire to know whither you are bound: and besides, perhaps, I may have interest enough to procure a warrant appointing you surgeon’s mate of the ship to which I shall belong—for the beadle of the Admiralty is my good friend: and he and one of the under clerks are sworn brothers, and that under clerk has a good deal to say with one of the upper clerks, who is very well known to the under secretary, who, upon his recommendation, I hope, will recommend my affair to the first secretary; and he again will speak to one of the lords in my behalf; so that you see I do not want friends to assist me on occasion. As for the fellow Crampley, tho’f I know him not, I am sure he is neither seaman nor officer, by what you have told me, or else he could never be so much mistaken in his reckoning, as to run the ship on shore on the coast of Sussex before he believed himself in soundings; neither, when that accident happened, would he have left the ship until she had been stove to pieces, especially when the tide was making; wherefore, by this time, I do suppose, he has been tried by a court-martial, and executed for his cowardice and misconduct.”

11I could not help smiling at the description of my uncle’s ladder, by which he proposed to climb to the attention of the board of admiralty; and, though I knew the world too well to confide in such dependence myself, I would not discourage him with doubts, but asked if he had no friend in London, who would advance a small sum of money to enable him to appear as he ought, and make a small present to the under secretary, who might possibly dispatch his business the sooner on that account. He scratched his head, and after some recollection, replied, “Why, yes, I believe Daniel Whipcord, the ship-chandler in Wapping, would not refuse me such a small matter. I know I can have what credit I want for lodging, liquor, and clothes; but as to money, I won’t be positive. Had honest Block been living, I should not have been at loss.” I was heartily sorry to find a worthy man so destitute of friends, when he had such need of them, and looked upon my own situation as less miserable than his, because I was better acquainted with the selfishness and roguery of mankind, consequently less liable to disappointment and imposition.