your clothes, I will
just look upon that part of your relation. Sir, said I, let me then walk
about, at a little distance; for I cannot bear the thought of it. Don't
go far, said he.

When he came, as I suppose, to the place where I mentioned the bricks
falling upon me, he got up, and walked to the door, and looked upon
the broken part of the wall; for it had not been mended; and came back,
reading on to himself, towards me; and took my hand, and put it under
his arm.

Why, this, said he, my girl, is a very moving tale. It was a very
desperate attempt, and, had you got out, you might have been in great
danger; for you had a very bad and lonely way; and I had taken such
measures, that, let you have been where you would, I should have had
you.

You may see, sir, said I, what I ventured, rather than be ruined; and
you will be so good as hence to judge of the sincerity of my profession,
that my honesty is dearer to me than my life. Romantic girl! said he,
and read on.

He was very serious at my reflections, on what God had enabled me to
escape. And when he came to my reasonings about throwing myself into the
water, he said, Walk gently before; and seemed so moved, that he turned
away his face from me; and I blessed this good sign, and began not so
much to repent at his seeing this mournful part of my story.

He put the papers in his pocket, when he had read my reflections, and
thanks for escaping from myself; and said, taking me about the waist, O
my dear girl! you have touched me sensibly with your mournful relation,
and your sweet reflections upon it. I should truly have been very
miserable had it taken effect. I see you have been used too roughly; and
it is a mercy you stood proof in that fatal moment.

Then he most kindly folded me in his arms: Let us, say I too, my Pamela,
walk from this accursed piece of water; for I shall not, with pleasure,
look upon it again, to think how near it was to have been fatal to my
fair one. I thought, added he, of terrifying you to my will, since I
could not move you by love; and Mrs. Jewkes too well obeyed me, when the
terrors of your return, after your disappointment, were so great, that
you had hardly courage to withstand them; but had like to have made so
fatal a choice, to escape the treatment you apprehended.

O sir, said I, I have reason, I am sure, to bless my dear parents,
and my good lady, your mother, for giving me something of a religious
education; for, but for that