Sir Thomas and his family went as they intended to his country seat; where they had not been above seven days, before Syrena had matter to inform her mother of, which she did in these terms.

Letter I.

            L–– Hall.
            Dear mamma,
            I won't fill up my letter with any particulars of our journey, 'tis sufficient to tell you, we all got safe down; and that people with heads, not so taken up as mine is, might find everything here, they could desire for their entertainment. I dare say you are impatient to know how my love-affairs go on. As to Mr L–– he behaves to me with an inexpressible tenderness, mixed with more respect than before our conversation at Blackheath; but still gives me not the least room to hope, he had any intentions of making me his wife; on the contrary, he rather seems afraid I should flatter myself so far; for being one day with him in an arbour a good distance from the house, after he had said a thousand passionate things, and taken some liberties which I permitted with an air, which seemed to tell him, I was too much lost in softness to know what I did, I started suddenly from his knee, where he had made me sit, and cried, "O! To what does my fond artless heart betray me! Cruel! Cruel Mr L––, can you pretend to love me truly, and use me in this manner?" And then fell a-weeping in so extravagant manner, that he looked quite confounded; but putting his face to mine, and wiping with his cheeks my tears away: "My dear Syrena," said he, "what can I do in the circumstances we both are? I wish to God there were less inequality between us; you know I am not master of myself. Sir Thomas likes you as a mistress, but would never forgive me for making you his daughter. My mother, grandmother, and all our kindred, are full of your praises as a servant; but would despise and hate you as a relation; in fine, you must be sensible, there is no coming together for us in the way you would approve; and therefore if you loved me, would not see me wretched merely for a ceremony, which sometimes instead of joining hearts more closely, serves but to estrange them." I said nothing to all this, but kept on weeping and sobbing, as if my heart would burst; but though he said all he could to comfort me, I could not perceive that he receded at all from the declaration he had made, nay did not even pretend, that when his father died, he would marry me. All he talked on was the violence, and constancy of his affection, for me; that when he came to his estate, I should vie with the greatest ladies in the town, in fine clothes and equipage; and that if duty or convenience ever obliged him to marry, I should still be the sole mistress of his heart; but as I knew better than to depend on promises, I had not any occasion for dissembling to show my contempt for them. Company coming into the garden we were obliged to separate, which, indeed, I was very glad of, as our being together had made so little for my purpose. He made me promise, however, to meet him the next day, in a lane on the back of the house; I kept my word, but that produced no more than a repetition of those arguments he had made use of in the arbour.; so I doubt mamma, that all the advantage I shall make by his addresses, is a more thorough knowledge of the passions of mankind. As for Sir Thomas, according to your directions, I appear less and less reserved, whenever chance or his own endeavours throw him in my way, which, indeed, is very seldom; for what with company, and what with his son's watchfulness, he can hardly get an opportunity of speaking three words to me. I believe he was going to say something very material to me yesterday, but was interrupted by Mr L–– coming into the room. So, my dear mamma, this is all at present from,
            Your most obedient daughter,
            Syrena Tricksy.

Letter II.

            L–– Hall.
            Dear mamma,
            I was not mistaken when I told you in my former, that I thought Sir Thomas had something extraordinary to say me; for this morning he watched for me, in a part of the house that he knew I must pass to go into my lady's chamber, and as it was too public a place to hold any discourse in, he only put a paper into my hand and said, "I hope this will convince you, that my designs are such as you cannot disapprove, without being an enemy to your own interest." And then went away directly, without staying for any answer. I was quite impatient to see what it contained, and made haste into my own room, and locked myself in, that I might not be interrupted in reading it. I send you an exact copy of the contents; because I thought best to keep the original in my own hands, for fear he should ask for it again.

Proposals offered to Mrs Syrena Tricksy's consideration, by one who would be her faithful friend.

            I. The person will engage himself to pay, or order to be paid to her, the annual sum of one hundred pound, either monthly, quarterly, or yearly, as she shall think fit, during his natural life.

            II. The said person will enter into articles, and settle, out of what part of his estate she shall choose, upon her, during her natural life, the annual sum of fifty pounds to be paid her in like manner, as the former.

            III. That in case she shall have any children, they shall be taken care of, and educated without any expense to her.

            IV. This agreement to be drawn up by a lawyer of her own nomination, and signed and sealed according to form.

            I leave it to you, mamma, to judge of these conditions, and will avoid Sir Thomas as much as possible, till I have your answer, which I desire may be soon: direct for me to be left at the post-house, in –– till called for; because if it should be brought to the house, and I not just in the way, who knows but the curiosity of Mrs Brown, Groves, or even Mr L–– himself, might tempt them to open it; and as it is but a little mile, I can easily go to fetch it.

            Nothing worth acquainting you concerning Mr L–– has happened since my last; nor has he been able to get one opportunity of talking to me in private, though I can see he is very uneasy, and more passionate than ever, since he thinks I love him. If I am in the chamber when he comes to my lady, he talks, indeed, to her, but has eyes continually on me; and if she does but turn her back one moment, I am sure to have a kiss, or a squeeze by the hand; the same in the gallery, or the stairs, or wherever we meet–but what signifies all his love, if he won't make me his wife, nor can do anything handsome for me. I take care, however, to look upon him, and receive the proofs he gives of his fondness; so as to make him think I have as great an affection for him as he can have for me, because who knows how far one may be able to work him up at last, when he is once convinced he can get me on no other terms. I had a stratagem come into my head, but I know not how you will approve of it, and that is to pretend to him, that I could not bear to be continually in the sight of a person, whom I could not keep myself from having the tenderest regard for, yet knew never could be mine, but by a way I would rather die than yield to; and that I was determined to quit my lady's service, and endeavour by absence to lose the memory of him. I'll try what effect this will have, if you think fit, mamma; it can be no prejudice to me at least, and if it comes to nothing, I can accept Sir Thomas's offers at last. Pray give me your opinion in full, on both these affairs; for you may depend upon it, I will do nothing for the future without consulting you. Who am,
            Dear mamma,
            your most dutiful daughter,
            Syrena Tricksy.

Letter III.

            L–– Hall.
            Dear mamma,
            Not hearing from you as I expected was a very great disappointment and vexation to me, and the more because I was afraid you were sick or dead, or something extraordinary had fallen out; but we are informed that the mail has been robbed, all the bills taken out, and the letters thrown away; so hope the want of your advice so soon as I could have wished, is all the misfortune of it; and as things have happened, I have the less occasion; for I shall very shortly be in town. A man and horse came last night with the news that Lady G––, Sir Thomas's sister, is dead, and having left him sole executor and trustee for her children, he is obliged to go directly for London. He talks of setting out to-morrow, with his son in the chariot, and the ladies in two or three days after; so you will hear no more from me till I see you–we are all in a vast confusion and hurry here, so have time for no more than to tell you, I am,
            Dear mamma,
            your most dutiful daughter,
            Syrena Tricksy.

            P.S. Since I wrote the above, Mrs Brown told me the ladies were resolved to follow Sir Thomas the next day.

            The family came to town as Syrena had wrote, and the mother and daughter soon after meeting, concerted a design the most abominable that ever was invented, and which in a short time they carried into execution in the following manner.

            Sir Thomas, either through grief for the loss of a sister whom he had tenderly loved, or the hurry of affairs her death had involved him in, had no leisure immediately to prosecute his amour with Syrena; but the young gentleman, less affected, omitted no opportunity of testifying the regard he had for her, and she, by a thousand different artifices, every day improved it, till his passion for her arrived at that height, that for the gratification of it, he would probably have given her the proof she aimed at, and become her husband, had not the fear of being disinherited, and rendering her as unhappy as himself, prevented him. Her mother having told her, she approved of her pretending to quit the house, she terrified him with that, and one day, when he was saying all the tender things that love could suggest, in order to prevail on her to quit that cruel resolution, as he called it. "O!" said she, "could you, sir, be sensible how much I shall suffer when separated from you, you would acknowledge, I was much more cruel to myself than you." And gave him, while she was speaking this, a look, which made him think it might still be in his power to prevail on her. On which he began to reiterate all the promises he before had made her; adding, that if she would be his, he would use her in all things like a wife, the name excepted: she feigned to listen with less aversion than before to his offers; but he fearing to be interrupted, for they were then in the parlour, begged she would give him a meeting in some place, where it would be less dangerous to converse in; but she would by no means be persuaded to see him abroad; pretending, that since the adventure of Blackheath she had made a vow; "and," said she, "I should think breaking a vow, though made only to myself, the wickedest thing I could do; but," added she blushing, "Sir, if you desire to take leave of me, or have anything to say that I ought not to be ashamed to hear, I'll tell you how we might pass an hour, at least, together without suspicion." "Where, my angel?" cried he impatiently. "You know, sir," answered she, "that Sir Thomas, your mamma, and my lady, go all to church next Sunday, and it being the first of their appearing since the death of Lady G––, Mrs Brown, Mrs Mary, Mr Groves, and myself are ordered to attend them, to show our mourning, and the men, you know, will be all with them: now, sir, I can say, I have got a violent headache to excuse going; and if you could find any pretence for staying at home, I will once more indulge myself in the dangerous satisfaction of hearing you talk." He was quite transported with this contrivance, and told her that nothing could have happened more lucky; "for, my dear," said he, "I am at this time soliciting a place at court, and my Lord R––, on whose interest I chiefly depend, has really ordered me to attend him on Sunday morning: now, as his Lordship's hour of rising is usually about the time of divine service, Sir Thomas does not expect me to go to church, and will suppose I stay to dress for this visit." "Then," cried she, "I will be in my lady's chamber, because of the convenience of the closet, in case any of the maids that are left at home should chance to come up for anything; but, sir," pursued she, "don't you think me very forward now? Does not agreeing too soon to see you in private, look as if I were consenting in a manner to everything? If it does, indeed I won't be there; for though I love to be with you, and my heart is ready to break when I don't see you, as you know sometimes I don't, for two or three days together, yet I won't be dishonest; I will die first". "My dearest, sweetest innocence," replied he, "time will convince you, that I would not hurt you for the world." They had no time for farther conversation, nor did they meet again, till the morning equally longed for by both, though for different reasons, was arrived.

            The family went to church, little imagining, while they were in this laudable act of devotion, what a scene of mischief was preparing for them at home, by a creature whom they took to be the most artless and innocent of her sex. The young deceiver was ready in the appointed chamber to meet her expected lover, who no sooner found the coast clear, than he flew to her with all the raptures of an unfeigned affection, after the most vigorous pressures on the one side, and a well-acted childish fondness, mingled with a shame-faced simplicity on the other, he gained the utmost of his desires, and she the opportunity to attempt the accomplishment of hers.

            He had no sooner left the chamber, than she tore her hair and clothes, pinched her arms and hands till they became black; plucked down one of the curtains from the bed, and throwed it on the floor, and put herself and everything in such disorder, that the room seemed a scene of distraction; then having watched at the window Mr L––'s going out, she rung the bell with all her strength, and the maids below came running up, surprised what could be the meaning, but were much more so, when they saw Syrena in the most pity-moving posture imaginable; she was lying cross the bed, her eyes rolling as just recovered from a fit; she wrung her hands; she cried to heaven for justice; then raved, as if the anguish of her mind had deprived her of reason. The girls were strangely alarmed at so unexpected a sight, and asked her the occasion, but instead of giving any direct answer, she only cried, "Let me be gone–O let me get out of this accursed, this fatal house–O that I had been buried quick before I ever set my foot in it," and then begged of them, that they would send somebody for a coach or a chair for her, but they refusing to let her go out of the house till the family came home, she started up, and snatching a penknife that lay upon the table, cried she would run it into her heart, if they offered to detain her. "No," said she I will never see my lady, Lady L––, nor Sir Thomas any more–I cannot bear it–let me go�Equot; raved she. "I am sure I have taken nothing from anybody. My trunk is here. Keep that and search, but as for me I will go–I will–I will," continued she; and in spite of all they could do, broke from them and ran downstairs, and so into the street, in that torn and dishevelled condition, where she soon got a coach, and was carried to her mother's; who highly applauded her management in this affair, and gave her fresh instructions for the perfecting their most detestable plot.

            Nothing ever equalled the surprise that Sir Thomas, the ladies, and whole family were in, when on their coming home they were told the departure of Syrena, and the confusion of her behaviour. They looked one upon the other, as not knowing what to think of the matter. Mrs Brown and Mr Groves shook their heads, as if they apprehended somewhat they durst not speak, and all of them at once demanded who had been in the chamber with her? The maids answered, that they knew of nobody, and were certain no person had come into the house since they went out. In fine, as 'twas impossible she could have been in such a condition as was described without some very extraordinary occasion, the least mischief they could think of it was, that she had been taken suddenly mad. This unhappy adventure engrossed not only their thoughts, but conversation also, and on Mr L––'s return from visiting the nobleman his friend, and was informed of it, all he could do to command himself, was insufficient to prevent some part of the concern he felt from appearing in his countenance. He said the least, however, of any of them; and endeavoured frequently to turn the discourse on other subjects, telling the ladies, that though Syrena was a pretty modest girl he believed, yet he wondered they should be so uneasy about her; that probably some disorder in the brain had seized her, which might be removed by proper remedies; and it was pity they should give themselves so much trouble about a servant. But this affected carelessness, which he thought so politic, was very prejudicial to himself afterward; and helped greatly to assist the base designs formed against him, though at present none took notice of it, or at least seemed to do so. As soon as dinner was over, one of the men was ordered to go to Syrena's mother, to see if she was with her, and learn, if possible, the truth of this affair. Mr Groves desired he might be the person employed, and Mrs Brown and the chambermaid who all had a great regard for her on the score of her youth and pretended innocence, begged they might accompany him in this errand, which was readily granted, and Sir Thomas told them they might have the coach; but before it could be got ready, so industrious is villainy, Mr L–– was informed two gentlemen desired to speak with him, he went to receive them in the parlour, where they had been conducted by the footman, who had opened the door. He no sooner was within the room, than one of them coming up close to him, told him, that he was sorry he was obliged to execute the duty of his office on a gentleman like Mr L––, but had a warrant against him, on account of a rape and assault sworn to be committed by him that morning, on the body of Syrena Tricksy. Not all the astonishment Mr L–– was in, and there could not be a greater, quelled the emotions of his rage at so vile an accusation, and without considering the consequences, laid his hand on his sword, with intention to draw it; but both the others seizing him at once, prevented what else his passion might have prompted him to; and there ensued so great a scuffle among them, that Sir Thomas and the ladies, who were in the next room, heard it, and ran in: the occasion was soon discovered, and it would be very difficult to describe the consternation, the terror, the grief, the shame, with which every one of their faces was overspread; the ladies fell into fits, the servants who assisted in recovering them, were little better themselves, and all were in the utmost hurry and confusion. Sir Thomas offered to engage for his son's appearance; but the officers said it could not be allowed in a capital case: that the girl had suffered violence, which perhaps might be her death; but as they knew the respect due to so worthy a family, Mr L–– should have no reason to complain of the want of anything but liberty, during the time he was with them; and added, that they hoped things might be made up so with the plaintiff's mother, that he would be restored to that also in a short time. Mr L–– gave no answer to this insinuation; but a look which showed his contempt of coming to any terms with such abandoned wretches. In fine, after some little debate he was compelled to obey the order, brought against him, and quitted his father's house with company he little expected ever to be among.

            This was the stratagem which these pernicious creatures had devised, and thus was it executed; the moment Syrena came home, the same coach carried her, in the deplorable condition she had made herself appear, with her mother to a magistrate, who seeing the youth and seeming modesty of the girl, doubted not the truth of their accusation, and sent tipstaves immediately to seize on Mr L––, which being done, Mrs Tricksy congratulated her daughter in iniquity, as well as blood, for the success of their enterprise: "Now, child," said she, "you will be Lady L––, the proud puppy will be glad to marry you now to save his neck; and marry you he shall, or come down with a sum sufficient to entitle you to a husband of as good an estate as he will have."

            But the satisfaction they had in this event, greatly as it flattered their presuming hopes, was short of the anguish, the unspeakable horror in which it involved Sir Thomas and his noble family: dear as Mr L–– was to them all, not one, when they considered circumstances, the time, the place, the still believed artlessness of Syrena, the confusion he appeared in at hearing she was gone, and which he strove to conceal, but could not. All concurred to make him seem as guilty as he was represented to be, and was rather an addition, than an alleviation of their sorrows, especially to the ladies.

            As for the young gentleman in custody, rage, shame, and amazement took up all his mind, and left no room for any thought how to disentangle himself from the snare his love for an unworthy object had brought him into; he never could conceive there was so much villainy in womankind, much less in one so young; and was ready to curse the whole sex, for the sake of the perfidious Syrena: so unjustly do our passions often make us blend the worthy with the unworthy!

            Sir Thomas in the meantime neglected nothing that might remedy this misfortune. The best counsel was consulted in the affair, who, on hearing the whole of the affair, advised to make it up, if possible, with the mother of Syrena; but that monster would listen to no proposals, and set the virtue and reputation of her child at no less price than marriage. 'Tis impossible for heart to conceive the indignation of the young gentleman when he was informed of this; he protested that he would sooner yield to all the law inflicts in such cases, than become the property of those vile serpents; for that was all the name he could bring himself to call them by. Hard, indeed, was his fate, when those who most endeavoured to defend him, in their souls believed him guilty; his counsel, his parents, all the servants in the family, even his own man (who had been the person who called the coach for Syrena, when she was carried to Blackheath, and knew his master had a design upon her) had the matter been brought before a court of judicature, could have said nothing but what must have tended to prove the imaginary crime. How false and weak, therefore, is that notion which some men have, that they may do anything with a woman, but marry her, and that nothing but a wife can make them unhappy; when, in reality, there are often more disquiets, more perplexities, more dangers attend the prosecution of an unlawful amour, than can be met with, even with the worst of wives; for if a woman cannot be sincere in a state where 'tis her interest to be so; what can be expected from her in one where 'tis her interest to deceive: besides, the artifices practised to gain the sex at first, gives them a kind of pretence for retaliation afterward; and men frequently find to their cost, they but too well know how to be even with them.

            Thus Mr L––, who in the morning thought himself happy in the possession of a beautiful innocent creature, that loved him with the extremest tenderness, found himself before the sun went down, the wretched property of a presuming, mercenary, betraying, perjured and abandoned prostitute; his friends incensed; his reputation blasted; his liberty at the disposal of the lowest and most despised rank of men, and his life in danger of the most shameful and ignominious end.

            So greatly were all appearances against him, that what a day before his friends would have looked upon as the heaviest misfortune could have befallen them, they now laboured with all their might to bring about, as the only remaining remedy for the present evil; and Mr L––, to aggravate the horrors of his mind, was compelled to hear every moment, from all who wished him well, the distracting solicitations, that he would consent to make the supposed injured girl his wife. Whether he would at last have been prevailed upon by their arguments; or whether he would rather have chosen to endure the sentence of the law; or whether, to avoid both, he would not have been guilty of some act of desperation on himself, is uncertain; providence thought not fit to punish him any farther, and when he least expected it, sent him a deliverance.

            The villains who had robbed the mail, as before mentioned, after they had taken out the bills, threw the bag and letters into a ditch; but there happening to be no water in it, the papers received no damage; but the post-man had been so beaten and cruelly used, that he was not capable of telling what had become of them; they were afterwards found by a country-fellow, who seeing what they were, carried them as directed; there being two for Sir Thomas L––, and one for Mrs Syrena Tricksy; the man delivered them at his seat, but the family being come to London that morning, a servant took them, and putting them altogether under a cover, sent them up by the next post. Those for Sir Thomas were nothing to the purpose of this story, but everybody agreeing that it would be proper to open that for Syrena, they found it from her mother, and contained as follows:

            Dear Syrena,
            I have considered on all you acquainted me with; and have been much perplexed in my mind how to advise you in this ticklish affair; but am at last come to a resolution. Sir Thomas's proposals are very niggardly; what is an hundred pounds a year to a woman that would appear handsome in the world? And then if he dies, to be reduced to fifty–good God! I wonder how he can offer to think of having a fine girl, and a maid too, as he takes you for, on such poor terms; but it may be it would have been better for his family, if he had bid higher; for I have a project in my head to force his son to marry you, in case all your arts to draw him in should fail; nay, and to oblige Sir Thomas and my lady, and all of them, to consent to it; and if he should refuse to live with you afterward, the allowance they must give you as his wife, will be more than his father's pitiful hundred pounds a year: besides, when Sir Thomas dies (and what I design to do, will go a good way towards breaking his heart) you will be Lady L––, they can't hinder you of that; and a title will give you such an air among the young fellows, that you may make what terms you will with any of them. The contrivance I have formed is indeed pretty dangerous, and requires abundance of cunning and courage too to go through with it to purpose; but I perceive with pleasure, you have a good share of the one; and as I shall be obliged to act a part in it myself, I don't doubt but I shall be able to give you enough of the other also; but nothing of this can be put in practice till you come back to London. All you have to do in the meantime, is to heighten the young squire's affection, by all the little stratagems you can invent; as to the father, I would have you avoid, if you possibly can, giving him any positive answer; but be sure not to part with the proposals he gave you; they may be useful hereafter, in making him fearful of provoking us to expose him. If he should ask for the paper, you may pretend you burned it as soon as you had examined it, for fear of its being found. My dear girl, my head is always at work for thee; be careful to do as I direct; let Mr L–– believe you love him to madness if he will; but be still more and more tenacious of your virtue, till I inform you the proper time for resigning it. 'Tis possible as he loves you so well, you may persuade him to marry you, when he finds there's no having you without; but once again depend that I have the sure means to make him be glad to do it. So no more at present, from
            Your affectionate mother,
            Ann Tricksy.

            Here Mr L––'s parents found a full as well as a seasonable discovery of the wicked plot, and their son's innocence, as to the pretended rape, cleared. Their transport could not but be great, though somewhat allayed by the story of Sir Thomas and his proposals; the confusion of that gentleman, and the jealous disdain of his lady, a while combated with the sincere satisfaction they would otherwise have felt. Some few upbraidings on the one side, and excuses on the other were natural on the occasion, but at length were wholly swallowed up in the joy for the deliverance of an only son. The next thing they had to think upon, was how to proceed for the punishment of these vile creatures who had imposed upon them; but when they found that it could not be done without bringing the whole affair to a public trial; their counsel advised them rather to compromise it, and rest contented with the disappointment Syrena and her mother had met with, and not pursue a justice which would occasion so much town-talk of themselves; especially considering that such practices would infallibly some time or other, draw on the authors the public shame they merited, where perhaps the avengers had not laid themselves so open to ridicule, as Sir Thomas and his son had done. The letter therefore being produced, and the person who brought it, detained as an evidence, in case they had offered to deny the hand, the audacious expectations of our female plotters, were turned into submissions; and all their arts employed only to prevail on the lawyer, who negotiated between them, that Sir Thomas and his family would not prosecute them for perjury and fraud, which he pretended to accomplish with a great deal of difficulty; and so this troublesome and dangerous business ended, and was, 'tis to be hoped, a means of preventing both father and son from rendring themselves liable to any future impositions of the same nature.

            Now had the wicked Mrs Tricksy and her daughter time to reflect on the ill success of their stratagem; but instead of acknowledging the justice of divine providence in unravelling this affair, they only cursed fortune, and accused themselves for having trusted the secret of their design to pen and paper: dreadful proof that their hearts were totally void of all distinction between vice and virtue! The best may have fallen into errors which they have afterwards so truly repented of, that even those faults have contributed to the rendering them more perfect. others again may have been guilty of repeated crimes, and yet have felt remorse, even in the moment of perpetrating them; but the wretch, incapable either of penitence or remorse, one may, without breach of charity, pronounce irreclaimable but by a miracle, and fit for the engaging in any mischief where temptation calls.

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