I bought at a linen-draper's shop, not in the fair, but in the town of
Cambridge, as much fine holland and other things as came to about seven
pounds; when I had done, I bade them be sent to such an inn, where I
had purposely taken up my being the same morning, as if I was to lodge
there that night.
I ordered the draper to send them home to me, about such an hour, to
the inn where I lay, and I would pay him his money. At the time
appointed the draper sends the goods, and I placed one of our gang at
the chamber door, and when the innkeeper's maid brought the messenger
to the door, who was a young fellow, an apprentice, almost a man, she
tells him her mistress was asleep, but if he would leave the things and
call in about an hour, I should be awake, and he might have the money.
He left the parcel very readily, and goes his way, and in about half an
hour my maid and I walked off, and that very evening I hired a horse,
and a man to ride before me, and went to Newmarket, and from thence got
my passage in a coach that was not quite full to St. Edmund's Bury,
where, as I told you, I could make but little of my trade, only at a
little country opera-house made a shift to carry off a gold watch from
a lady's side, who was not only intolerably merry, but, as I thought, a
little fuddled, which made my work much easier.
I made off with this little booty to Ipswich, and from thence to
Harwich, where I went into an inn, as if I had newly arrived from
Holland, not doubting but I should make some purchase among the
foreigners that came on shore there; but I found them generally empty
of things of value, except what was in their portmanteaux and Dutch
hampers, which were generally guarded by footmen; however, I fairly got
one of their portmanteaux one evening out of the chamber where the
gentleman lay, the footman being fast asleep on the bed, and I suppose
very drunk.
The room in which I lodged lay next to the Dutchman's, and having
dragged the heavy thing with much ado out of the chamber into mine, I
went out into the street, to see if I could find any possibility of
carrying it off. I walked about a great while, but could see no
probability either of getting out the thing, or of conveying away the
goods that were in it if I had opened it, the town being so small, and
I a perfect stranger in it; so I was returning with a resolution to
carry it back again, and leave it where I found it. Just in that very
moment I heard a man make a noise to some people to make haste, for the
boat was going to put off, and the tide would be spent. I called to
the fellow, 'What boat is it, friend,' says I, 'that you belong to?'
'The Ipswich wherry, madam,' says he. 'When do you go off?' says I.
'This moment, madam,' says he; 'do you want to go thither?' 'Yes,'
said I, 'if you can stay till I fetch my things.' 'Where are your
things, madam?' says he. 'At such an inn,' said I. 'Well, I'll go
with you, madam,' says he, very civilly, 'and bring them for you.'
'Come away, then,' says I, and takes him with me.