Part 2
It was in the morning that my unknown conductor took me through the busy streets into the city, and entering a coffee-house, near the Exchange, almost filled with company, he spent some time before he could resolve where to seat himself; at length he determined on a place, which, to me, appeared the most inconvenient one in the room, it being in a box that was already almost full; here he breakfasted and read the papers, but seemed more intent upon remarking the company, than on the news of the day. We stayed here about an hour, when my conductor rose up, and taking a gentleman’s hat instead of his own, was leaving the room. As soon as the owner observed the mistake, on acquainting him with it, he asked the gentleman pardon, and at the same time informed him, that he was so extremely near-sighted, that without the help of his glass, (which he had unfortunately left at home) he was continually mistaking; the gentleman begged he would make no apology, as every man was liable to mistake; shortly after he took an opportunity to go away without paying for his breakfast, which made me conclude he had likewise unfortunately left his memory at home. This caused me to reflect that I was very indifferently situated in being obliged to accompany a man that went into company without either eyes or memory, and I must own I began not to half like the prospect of this adventure.—Soon after leaving this coffee-room, he went into another, where seating himself as before, he drank a dish of chocolate, and on his leaving the place, his eyesight again failed him, and he mistook another gentleman’s hat for his own again, and went off with it without interruption or paying for his chocolate: this second mistake alarmed me greatly, fearing lest the owner of the hat should be in pursuit of us, who possibly might not shew so much regard for the infirmity of my conductor as the other gentleman had, or not entertain so favourable an opinion of his veracity, especially as the difference in value of the hat, was greatly in favour of this near-sighted spark, which circumstance I observed in the preceding mistake likewise; but my fears ceased, when coming into Corn-hill I heard him call a coach, and stepping in, ordered the coachman to drive to Covent Garden, but in Fleet-street he ordered him to stop in middle Temple-lane, and to set him down at a certain door there, on the coach stopping at the place appointed, he ordered the coachman to wait, and I imagined that he was calling upon his lawyer, but found he only went through a public office, which opened into two different places and was used as a thoroughfare. Having passed the other door, he very leisurely walk’d across the court, and so into Fleet-street, and from thence, without stopping, he conducted me to the piazza’s, Covent Garden. This extraordinary absence of thought in leaving the coachman to wait for him, when it appeared evident he did not intend to return to him, created some reflections in me that did not end greatly in his favour; nor did they leave me in great tranquillity, for my mind run now upon nothing but horseponds, duckings, and kickings, which I had heard my companions speak of suffering, and which I knew I must chiefly sustain, should any instance of his infirmities terminate unfavourable—But to return, being arrived in the piazza’s in Covent Garden, as I mentioned before, from thence we ascended a pair of stairs, and I found myself in a room amidst a great number of very genteel people, some of whom were of the first fashion; I soon perceived it was an auction-room; then my fears began to operate upon me least some of my gentleman’s faculties should again fail him, and the ill consequence I dreaded would fall upon me; but every thing remained quiet for a considerable time; at length a chaised-watch, by Tompion, was put up, which I found had a very strong effect upon my adventurer, though I could not devise the cause, for as I knew he had not sixpence about him, I could not conceive he intended to bid for it; as the bidders advanced he became more anxious, marking every one who bid, very strictly.—In the conclusion a certain nobleman, who is observed to attend these kind of sales with great punctuality, bid 80 guineas, and was knocked down the best bidder, and the watch set down to Lord ——. My adventurous spark now seemed calm and determined, and instantly quitting the room, went into a tavern near; where ordering a bottle of Madeira, and pen and ink, he took from his pocket a message-card and wrote as follows—“The earl of —— seeing lord ——’s equipage standing at ——’s auction-room door, begs the favour of his lordship’s company at —— for a moment.—Having just received an accident upon my right hand ——s writes this to you, and promises to take it to your lordship himself.”—Having wrote this he orders the master of the tavern to attend him, who being come, our spark, after splitting the card, and securing the writing by a wafer, told him he should be much obliged to him if he would take that card to lord —— at ——’s auction: the landlord assured him he would, but, adds, this cautious genius, deliver it to —— the auctioneer, and he will hand it to his lordship: —— promised to obey his orders punctually; the landlord being gone, my companion, after recruiting his spirits with a glass of wine, immediately decamps, leaving orders to acquaint lord —— he would return before his lordship could be seated, and immediately goes and posts himself in a place where he could see his lordship come from the auction-room: very short was his stay before he saw his lordship, attended by the landlord, step into the chariot, and drive to the tavern; our bold youth was as good as his word, and followed his lordship into the room before he was well seated, and told him that the earl of —— was “just drove into the next street, and had ordered him to wait upon his lordship with an apology for leaving the room, but that he would be with him in an instant.” This excuse delivered with a good grace by a seeming gentleman, satisfied his lordship, and seating himself, our hero took his leave of his lordship, and going to the bar, told —— the landlord, that he must go to —— the auctioneer, and tell him, “that lord —— desired him to send the watch he had lately purchased by him, as he just wanted to shew it to the earl of ——”. Away goes the landlord and acquaints the auctioneer with his lordship’s desire; the auctioneer knowing the landlord, and seeing the lord —— go out with him just before, made no hesitation, but delivers him the watch, who on meeting my gentleman at the door, put it into his hand, and he flipping it into his coat-pocket, again goes into his lordship, and telling him “the earl of —— begged his patience a few minutes longer, as he had now just finished the affair he was upon, and hoped he would stay, as he had something to acquaint him with that would surprise him very much”. His lordship answered it was very well; upon which our sharper left his lordship to wonder what it could be that would surprize him so much, and I make no doubt but in a short time he was greatly surprized.
The planning of this artifice continued Sable, gave me a high opinion of our sharper’s ingenuity, and the dexterity with which he conducted it, entirely removed all my fears of any accident happening to us. After this successful exploit, he walked through a few streets and then took a coach, ordering the coachman to drive to a tavern near the Exchange in the city; by this method he eluded the vigilance of a pursuit, which he imagined must succeed his lordship’s discovering the imposition, and which no doubt was in a very short time after sent forth.
Being arrived at the tavern he ordered the coachman to take his money at the bar, and was shewn into a very handsome room; he immediately ordered a genteel dinner consisting of five dishes, and ordered two courses, saying he expected a gentleman to dine with him, and ordered if any one enquired for Sir —— to shew him in; but I should have mentioned to you that as the coach was passing by the Temple, he ordered one of the porters who ply there, to take a card which he had been writing upon in the coach, to the very tavern he had ordered the coachman to drive to, with strict orders for the porter to be there with it by 5 o’clock; this card was directed to the knight whose name and title he had now assumed.—By the time he imagined dinner was ready, he rang and ordered the cook not to spoil the dinner, but when it was ready to bring it in, saying he would not wait a minute for the king in prejudice to the skill of the cook,—whom he ordered to take a pint of wine at the bar. Dinner being ended, and the cloath removed, champain and burgundy were ordered, and he sat very composedly entertaining himself in mediating on the labour of the great Tompion, and from thence took occasion to descant on his own ingenuity, which he justly boasted was not inferior to that famous artist, though it run in a different channel: at the hour of five the waiter entered with a card for Sir —— on which was wrote these words “Lord ——’s compliments to Sir ——, asks ten thousand pardons for not attending him at dinner as appointed; begs Sir ——, will not go till he comes, which will not exceed half an hour.” The card was purposely wrote upon to the view of every one, which added dignity to our new-made knight’s former consequence, and ordering the porter to be discharged at the bar, he sat a few minutes; when ringing the bell he ordered the waiter to tell his master to come to him, who soon appearing, he desired him to sit and fill a glass of wine, and entering into a familiar conversation with him, in a short time enquired if there was ever a shop near where he could purchase a gold chain to his watch, and at the same time produced the property of lord ——, which being in a neat shagreen box, looked at a distance like a shagreen case; the vintner being willing to oblige a neighbour, told him he could recommend a dealer in those things, who had great choice, and lived only in the next street.—Our knight begg’d he would send for him, with orders to bring some watch chains with him: the vintner immediately dispatched a waiter to the person who soon arrived with a box, and producing some very curious watch chains, my gentleman at last fixed upon one, which came to 5l. 1s. The spark offered him four for it, but the tradesman being a quaker, told him he never asked more than he intended to take, but however he was still offered 4l. 1s. and the tradesman refusing was dismissed.—In five minutes the sharper rang for the master of the tavern, and told him what had passed, adding he greatly liked the chain, and would purchase it, but should take it as a favour if he would go to the man, and see if he could not get it for the money, but if not to bring it with him, and at the same time desired he would tell the tradesman to bring a cornelian seal with a Homer’s head for the impression; away went the landlord, and soon after brought the chain with him, but told our genius he could not prevail upon him to take any thing less than he had asked; that he had never a cornelian with a Homer, but had sent to a friend in the next street who he believed had one, and he would bring him word in ten minutes: during the landlord’s absence, this ingenious gentleman had taken out the watch and left the shagreen box upon the shelf over the fire-place, in full view of the landlord, who might suppose it was the real watch. Upon looking at the chain, the spark pretended it was not the same he had shewn him before, the landlord told him it was possible he might mistake by candle-light, and offered to go and change it—but the sharper said he would go himself, as he had some suspicion the quaker had a mind to impose upon him, and saying the watch he supposed would be safe upon the shelf, went out of the room, and the landlord shutting the door, told him he would take care no body should come in during his absence. Our successful sharper now bent his course to Cheapside with all speed, leaving the shagreen box to pay the vintner his reckoning, and the quaker for his watch chain.
The luxuriancy of my ingenious conductor’s invention in the progress of this adventure astonished me greatly, but I’ll forbear to trouble you with my reflections now, and hasten with him to the play-house.
Being arrived in Cheapside, he takes a coach and orders himself to be drove to the Rose in Bridges-street Covent Garden, and the coach stopping at the door the coachman descended to let him out, but was ordered to go into the tavern and enquire if Mr. —— was in the house; the enquiry through every room he knew must take up some minutes, and give him time to let himself out at the other side of the coach, which he effected with great privacy and expedition, and immediately set forward for Covent Garden play-house, taking his way up Bow-street, purposely avoiding, as I apprehended, the scene of his morning adventure.—Here Sable was interrupted in his narrative, by the arrival of his owner, who brought in with Him an old cloaths-man, and handing the black narrator down delivered him to this new vamper of old commodities; who after perusing him with great attention and sagacity, shaking his head declared he could not give any thing for it, adding, “it had been so much used, it would not hold together for a single day’s wear”; and as for repairing it, he said it was impossible from the rottenness of it, nor could it be converted into patches, as in fact, he said, it consisted of nothing else but patches; and returning it to the owner, desired him to keep it as a curiosity, swearing he never saw such a thing in his life: upon this Sable was once more conducted to the wardrobe, and hung on the peg he had been removed from.