me to the door, where we overheard all that passed with great
satisfaction. In the meantime we were alarmed with the cry of "Rape!
Murder! Rape!" which Jenny pronounced with great vociferation. "Oh! You
vile abominable old villain," said she, "would you rob me of my virtue?
But I'll be revenged of you, you old goat! I will! Help! for heaven's
sake! help! I shall be ravished! ruined! help!" Some servants of the
inn, hearing this cry, came running upstairs with lights, and such
weapons as chance afforded; when we beheld a very diverting scene. In
one corner stood the poor captain shivering in his shirt, which was all
torn to rags: with a woeful visage, scratched all over by his wife, who
had by this time wrapped the counterpane about her, and sat sobbing on
the side of her bed. At the other end lay the old usurer, sprawling on
Miss Jenny's bed, with his flannel jacket over his shirt, and his tawny
meagre limbs exposed to the air; while she held him fast by the two
ears, and loaded him with execrations. When he asked what was the
matter, she affected to weep, told us she was afraid that wicked rogue
had ruined her in her sleep, and bade us take notice of what we saw, for
she intended to make use of our evidence against him. The poor wretch
looked like one more dead than alive, and begged to be released; a
favour which he had no sooner obtained than he protested she was no
woman, but a devil incarnate--that she had first seduced his flesh to
rebel, and then betrayed him. "Yes, cockatrice," continued he, "you
know you laid this snare fur me--but you shan't succeed--for I will hang
myself before you shall get a farthing of me." So saying, he crawled to
his own bed, groaning all the way. We then advanced to the Captain, who
told us, "Gentlemen, here has been a d--d mistake; but I'll be revenged
on him who was the cause of it. That Scotchman who carries the knapsack
shall not breathe this vital air another day, if my name be Weazel. My
dear, I ask you ten thousand pardons; you are sensible, I could mean no
harm to you." "I know not what you meant," replied she, sighing, "but
I know I have got enough to send me to my grave." At length they were
reconciled. The wife was complimented with a share of Miss Jenny's bed
(her own being overflowed), and the master of the waggon invited Weazel
to sleep the remaining part of the night with him. I retired to mine,
where I found Strap mortally afraid, he having stolen away in the dark
while