son I beg you
will write a few lines to them, and let me prescribe the form; which I
have done, putting myself as near as I can in your place, and expressing
your sense, with a warmth that I doubt will have too much possessed you.

'After what is done, and which cannot now be helped, but which, I assure
you, shall turn out honourably for you, I expect not to be refused;
because I cannot possibly have any view in it, but to satisfy your
parents; which is more your concern than mine; and so I must beg you
will not alter one tittle of the underneath. If you do, it will be
impossible for me to send it, or that it should answer the good end I
propose by it.

'I have promised, that I will not approach you without your leave. If I
find you easy, and not attempting to dispute or avoid your present lot,
I will keep to my word, although it is a difficulty upon me. Nor shall
your restraint last long: for I will assure you, that I am resolved very
soon to convince you of my good intentions, and with what ardour I am

'Yours, etc.'

The letter he prescribed for me was as this:

'DEAR Mrs. JERVIS,

'I have, instead of being driven by Robin to my dear father's, been
carried off, where I have no liberty to tell. However, at present, I
am not used hardly; and I write to beg you to let my dear father and
mother, whose hearts must be well nigh broken, know that I am well; and
that I am, and, by the grace of God, ever will be, their honest, as well
as dutiful daughter, and 'Your obliged friend.'

'I must neither send date nor place; but have most solemn assurances of
honourable usage.'

I knew not what to do on this most strange request and occasion. But my
heart bled so much for you, my dear father, who had taken the pains to
go yourself, and inquire after your poor daughter, as well as for my
dear mother, that I resolved to write, and pretty much in the above
form, that it might be sent to pacify you, till I could let you, somehow
or other, know the true state of the matter. And I wrote thus to my
strange wicked master himself:

'SIR,

'If you knew but the anguish of my mind, and how much I suffer by
your dreadful usage of me, you would surely pity me, and consent to my
deliverance. What have I done, that I should be the only mark of your
cruelty? I can have no hope, no desire of living left me, because I
cannot have the least dependence, after what has passed, upon