the bushes, and the lanthorn being carried before them, they placed the two prisoners in their front, and then began their march; Adams not only submitting patiently to his own fate, but comforting and encouraging his companion under her sufferings.

Whilst they were on their way the clerk informed the rest that this adventure would prove a very beneficial one; for that they would all be entitled to their proportions of £80 for apprehending the robbers. This occasioned a contention concerning the parts which they had severally borne in taking them; one insisting he ought to have the greatest share, for he had first laid his hands on Adams; another claiming a superior part for having first held the lanthorn to the man’s face on the ground, by which, he said, “the whole was discovered.” The clerk claimed four-fifths of the reward for having proposed to search the prisoners, and likewise the carrying them before the justice: he said, “Indeed, in strict justice, he ought to have the whole.” These claims, however, they at last consented to refer to a future decision, but seemed all to agree that the clerk was entitled to a moiety. They then debated what money should be allotted to the young fellow who had been employed only in holding the nets. He very modestly said, “That he did not apprehend any large proportion would fall to his share, but hoped they would allow him something; he desired them to consider that they had assigned their nets to his care, which prevented him from being as forward as any in laying hold of the robbers” (for so those innocent people were called); “that if he had not occupied the nets, some other must”; concluding, however, “that he should be contented with the smallest share imaginable, and should think that rather their bounty than his merit.” But they were all unanimous in excluding him from any part whatever, the clerk particularly swearing, “If they gave him a shilling they might do what they pleased with the rest; for he would not concern himself with the affair.” This contention was so hot, and so totally engaged the attention of all the parties, that a dexterous nimble thief, had he been in Mr. Adams’s situation, would have taken care to have given the justice no trouble that evening. Indeed, it required not the art of a Sheppard to escape, especially as the darkness of the night would have so much befriended him; but Adams trusted rather to his innocence than his heels, and, without thinking of flight, which was easy, or resistance (which was impossible, as there were six lusty young fellows, besides the villain himself, present), he walked with perfect resignation the way they thought proper to conduct him.

Adams frequently vented himself in ejaculations during their journey; at last, poor Joseph Andrews occurring to his mind, he could not refrain sighing forth his name, which being heard by his companion in affliction, she cried with some vehemence, “Sure, I should know that voice; you cannot certainly, sir, be Mr. Abraham Adams?”—“Indeed, damsel,” says he, “that is my name; there is something also in your voice which persuades me I have heard it before.”—“La! sir,” says she, “don’t you remember poor Fanny?”—“How, Fanny!” answered Adams: “indeed I very well remember you; what can have brought you hither?”—“I have told you, sir,” replied she, “I was travelling towards London; but I thought you mentioned Joseph Andrews; pray what is become of him?”—“I left him, child, this afternoon,” said Adams, “in the stage-coach, in his way towards our parish, whither he is going to see you.”—“To see me! La, sir,” answered Fanny, “sure you jeer me; what should he be going to see me for?”—“Can you ask that?” replied Adams. “I hope, Fanny, you are not inconstant; I assure you he deserves much better of you.”—“La! Mr. Adams,” said she, “what is Mr. Joseph to me? I am sure I never had anything to say to him, but as one fellow-servant might to another.”—“I am sorry to hear this,” said Adams; “a virtuous passion for a young man is what no woman need be ashamed of. You either do not tell me the truth, or you are false to a very worthy man.” Adams then told her what had happened at the inn, to which she listened very attentively; and a sigh often escaped from her, notwithstanding her utmost endeavours to the contrary; nor could she prevent herself from asking a thousand questions, which would have assured any one but Adams, who never saw farther into people than they desired to let him, of the truth of a passion she endeavoured to conceal. Indeed, the fact was, that this poor girl, having heard of Joseph’s misfortune, by some of the servants belonging to the coach which we have formerly mentioned to have stopt at the inn while the poor youth was confined to his bed, that instant abandoned the cow she was milking, and, taking with her a little bundle of clothes under her arm, and all the money she was worth in her own purse, without consulting any one, immediately set forward in pursuit of one whom, notwithstanding her shyness to the parson, she loved with inexpressible violence, though with the purest and most delicate passion. This shyness, therefore, as we trust it will