in my discourse I found by her how the town was situated,
that I was in a street that went out towards Hadley, but that
such a street went towards the water-side, such a street towards
Colchester, and so the London road lay there.
I had soon my ends of this old woman, for I only wanted to
know which was the London road, and away I walked as fast
as I could; not that I intended to go on foot, either to London
or to Colchester, but I wanted to get quietly away from Ipswich.
I walked about two or three miles, and then I met a plain
countryman, who was busy about some husbandry work, I did
not know what, and I asked him a great many questions first,
not much to the purpose, but at last told him I was going for
London, and the coach was full, and I could not get a passage,
and asked him if he could tell me where to hire a horse that
would carry double, and an honest man to ride before me to
Colchester, that so I might get a place there in the coaches.
The honest clown looked earnestly at me, and said nothing
for above half a minute, when, scratching his poll, ‘A horse,
say you and to Colchester, to carry double? why yes, mistress,
alack-a-day, you may have horses enough for money.’ ‘Well,
friend,’ says I, ‘that I take for granted; I don’t expect it without
money.’ ‘Why, but, mistress,’ says he, ‘how much are you
willing to give?’ ‘Nay,’ says I again, ‘friend, I don’t know
what your rates are in the country here, for I am a stranger;
but if you can get one for me, get it as cheap as you can, and
I’ll give you somewhat for your pains.’
‘Why, that’s honestly said too,’ says the countryman. ‘Not
so honest, neither,’ said I to myself, ‘if thou knewest all.’
‘Why, mistress,’ says he, ‘I have a horse that will carry double,
and I don’t much care if I go myself with you,’ and the like.
‘Will you?’ says I; ‘well, I believe you are an honest man; if
you will, I shall be glad of it; I’ll pay you in reason.’ ‘Why,
look ye, mistress,’ says he, ‘I won’t be out of reason with you,
then; if I carry you to Colchester, it will be worth five shillings
for myself and my horse, for I shall hardly come back to-night.’
In short, I hired the honest man and his horse; but when we
came to a town upon the road (I do not remember the name
of it, but it stands upon a river), I pretended myself very ill,
and I could go no farther that night but if he would stay there
with me, because I was a stranger, I would pay him for himself
and his horse with all my heart.
This I did because I knew the Dutch gentlemen and their
servants would be upon the road that day, either in the
stagecoaches or riding post, and I did not know but the drunken
fellow, or somebody else that might have seen me at Harwich,
might see me again, and so I thought that in one day’s stop
they would be all gone by.
We lay all that night there, and the next morning it was not
very early when I set out, so that it was near ten o’clock by
the time I got to Colchester. It was no little pleasure that I
saw the town where I had so many pleasant days, and I made
many inquiries after the good old friends I had once had there,
but could make little out; they were all dead or removed. The
young ladies had been all married or gone to London; the old
gentleman and the old lady that had been my early benefacress
all dead; and which troubled me most, the young gentleman
my first lover, and afterwards my brother-in-law, was dead;
but two sons, men grown, were left of him, but they too were
transplanted to London.
I dismissed my old man here, and stayed incognito for three