<p><SPAN name="link2H_4_0073" id="link2H_4_0073"></SPAN></p>
<h2> To Sir WATKIN PHILLIPS, Bart. of Jesus college, Oxon. </h2>
<h3> DEAR WATKIN, </h3>
<p>I yesterday met with an incident which I believe you will own to be very
surprising—As I stood with Liddy at the window of the inn where we
had lodged, who should pass by but Wilson a-horse back!—I could not
be mistaken in the person, for I had a full view of him as he advanced; I
plainly perceived by my sister's confusion that she recognized him at the
same time. I was equally astonished and incensed at his appearance, which
I could not but interpret into an insult, or something worse. I ran out at
the gate, and, seeing him turn the corner of the street, I dispatched my
servant to observe his motions, but the fellow was too late to bring me
that satisfaction. He told me, however, that there was an inn, called the
Red Lion, at that end of the town, where he supposed the horseman had
alighted, but that he would not enquire without further orders. I sent him
back immediately to know what strangers were in the house, and he returned
with a report that there was one Mr Wilson lately arrived. In consequence
of this information I charged him with a note directed to that gentleman,
desiring him to meet me in half an hour in a certain field at the town's
end, with a case of pistols, in order to decide the difference which could
not be determined at our last rencounter: but I did not think proper to
subscribe the billet. My man assured me he had delivered it into his own
hand; and, that having read it, he declared he would wait upon the
gentleman at the place and time appointed.</p>
<p>M'Alpine being an old soldier, and luckily sober at the time, I entrusted
him with my secret. I ordered him to be within call, and, having given him
a letter to be delivered to my uncle in case of accident, I repaired to
the rendezvous, which was an inclosed field at a little distance from the
highway. I found my antagonist had already taken his ground, wrapped in a
dark horseman's coat, with a laced hat flapped over his eyes; but what was
my astonishment, when, throwing off this wrapper, he appeared to be a
person whom I had never seen before! He had one pistol stuck in a leather
belt, and another in his hand ready for action, and, advancing a few
steps, called to know if I was ready—I answered, 'No,' and desired a
parley; upon which he turned the muzzle of his piece towards the earth;
then replaced it in his belt, and met me half way—When I assured him
he was not the man I expected to meet, he said it might be so: that he had
received a slip of paper directed to Mr Wilson, requesting him to come
hither; and that as there was no other in the place of that name, he
naturally concluded the note was intended for him, and him only—I
then gave him to understand, that I had been injured by a person who
assumed that name, which person I had actually seen within the hour,
passing through the street on horseback; that hearing there was a Mr
Wilson at the Red Lion, I took it for granted he was the man, and in that
belief had writ the billet; and I expressed my surprize, that he, who was
a stranger to me and my concerns, should give me such a rendezvous,
without taking the trouble to demand a previous explanation. He replied,
that there was no other of his name in the whole country; that no such
horseman had alighted at the Red Lion since nine o'clock, when he arrived—that
having had the honour to serve his majesty, he thought he could not
decently decline any invitation of this kind, from what quarter soever it
might come, and that if any explanation was necessary, it did not belong
to him to demand it, but to the gentleman who summoned him into the field.
Vexed as I was at this adventure, I could not help admiring the coolness
of this officer, whose open countenance prepossessed me in his favour. He
seemed to be turned of forty; wore his own short black hair, which curled
naturally about his ears, and was very plain in his apparel—When I
begged pardon for the trouble I had given him, he received my apology with
great good humour.—He told me that he lived about ten miles off, at
a small farm-house, which would afford me tolerable lodging, if I would
come and take diversion of hunting with him for a few weeks; in which case
we might, perhaps, find out the man who had given me offence—I
thanked him very sincerely for his courteous offer, which, I told him, I
was not at liberty to accept at present, on account of my being engaged in
a family party; and so we parted, with mutual professions of good will and
esteem.</p>
<p>Now tell me, dear knight, what am I to make of this singular adventure? Am
I to suppose that the horseman I saw was really a thing of flesh and
blood, or a bubble that vanished into air?—or must I imagine Liddy
knows more of the matter than she chuses to disclose?—If I thought
her capable of carrying on any clandestine correspondence with such a
fellow, I should at once discard all tenderness, and forget that she was
connected with me by the ties of blood—But how is it possible that a
girl of her simplicity and inexperience, should maintain such an
intercourse, surrounded, as she is, with so many eyes, destitute of all
opportunity, and shifting quarters every day of her life!—Besides,
she has solemnly promised. No—I can't think the girl so base—so
insensible to the honour of her family.—What disturbs me chiefly, is
the impression which these occurrences seem to make upon her spirits—These
are the symptoms from which I conclude that the rascal has still a hold on
her affection, surely I have a right to call him a rascal, and to conclude
that his designs are infamous. But it shall be my fault if he does not one
day repent his presumption—I confess I cannot think, much less write
on this subject, with any degree of temper or patience; I shall therefore
conclude with telling you, that we hope to be in Wales by the latter end
of the month: but before that period you will probably hear again from</p>
<p>your affectionate J. MELFORD Oct. 4.</p>
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