The mysteries of the Court of London

THE

MYSTERIES OF THE COURT OF LONDON

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CONTENTS

CHAPTEB PAGE

I. THE MARRIAGE 1

II. AN ARISTOCRATIC PAIR 10

III. THE BILLS OF EXCHANGE 21

IV. THE CHANDLER'S SHOP 33

V. THE JOURNEY TO PARIS 48

VI. FASHIONABLE DEPRAVITY 62

VII. ANOTHER PHASE OF FASHIONABLE DEPRAVITY . 79

VIII. THE REUNION OF THE PARTY OF Six . . 89

IX. THE BANQUET 97

X. THE TRIAL 112

XI. UNPLEASANT VISITORS 123

XII. ERNESTINA AND THE PRINCE .... 136

XIII. THE PRISONER IN THE CHAIR .... 145

XIV. NEWGATE 153

XV. A CHAPTER TO WHICH WE CAN GIVE No TITLE 162

XVI. THE GIBBET 169

XVII. THE PREFECTURE OF POLICE .... 185

XVIII. LORD AND LADY SACKVILLE .... 203

XIX. THE KING'S BENCH 217

XX. A SCENE IN THE DARK 235

XXI. THE PREFECT AND His GUESTS .... 243

XXII. THE HANGMAN IN His GLORY AGAIN . .261

XXIII. THE CONSULTATION 277

XXIV. NELL GIBSON 284

XXV. VENETIA AND HER ADMIRERS .... 291

XXVI. THE BOUDOIR 303

XXVII. THE LAMB AMONGST THE WOLVES IN SHEEP'S

CLOTHING 316

XXVIII. THE WOLVES THROWING OFF THEIR DISGUISE . 327

v

VI

CONTENTS

CHAPTER

PAGE

XXIX.

. 337

XXX.

SHOOTER'S HILL ' . . . . .

. 353

XXXI.

THE FAIR STRANGER ....

, 367

XXXII.

THE JOLLY WAGONER — FRESH PERILS .

. 376

XXXIIL

THE INTERESTING INVALID

. 388

XXXIV.

THE RAKE AND THE RAKE'S VICTIM

. 399

XXXV.

MORE PLOTTING AND COUNTERPLOTTING

. 408

XXXVI.

ANOTHER LAMB IN THE LION'S DEN

. 422

XXXVII.

. 428

XXXVIII.

. 443

XXXIX.

THE TRANCE CONTINUED ....

453

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

PAGK
"AS SHE COMBED OUT HER LONG BLACK HAIR" (See

Page 62) Frontispiece

" « LET ME PILLOW MY HEAD HERE ' " . . . . 140

"LEANING PENSIVELY AGAINST A PILLAR" . . . 215

"AS SHE LOLLED IN THE ARMCHAIR NEAR THE FIRE" . 288

" AS HE RUSHED WITH HER DOWN THE STAIRCASE " . . 418

THE MYSTERIES OF THE
COURT OF LONDON

CHAPTER I

THE MARRIAGE

IN George Street, leading into Hanover Square, stands
St. George's Church, which is the most fashionable temple
of Hymen within the precincts of the metropolis. It is
aristocratic in appearance as well as by repute, — not even
the sanctity of religion and the meekness of the Christian
faith having been able to rescue it from the intrusive pomp,
ostentation, and vain parade of the frivolous, heartless, and
empty-headed upper classes. The panels in front of the
galleries are emblazoned with the names of the " noble
lords," " right honour ables," and " honourables," who have
from time to time filled the office of churchwardens; the
decorations of the pews show that they are intended for the
ease and comfort of the " higher orders; " and the general
aspect of the interior is " eminently fashionable."

An arched recess, with a painted window, enshrines the
altar, which is set in a sculptured framework. The window
is essentially of the Romish sacred architecture; and this
effect is heightened into an appearance of positive Cathol-
icism not only by the representation of the Virgin and
Child, the Dove, and the Crucifixion, in the stained glass,
but also by the magnificent picture of the Last Supper
behind the communion table.

It was about nine o'clock in the morning of Wednesday,
September 25, 1814, that a tall, slender, handsome young

1

2 THE COURT OF LONDON

gentleman, dressed in deep mourning, slowly ascended the
steps of the portico and entered St. George's Church, the
doors of which were already opened. His countenance was
pale and full of a deep melancholy; there was something
peculiarly touching and profoundly interesting in its ex-
pression; and amiability, goodness, and generosity were at
the same time blended in every trait.

On entering the church, the young gentleman proceeded
straight to the vestry, where the clerk was seated at a table
poring over one of the huge parish registers.

" Good morning, Mr. Malvern — or Sir Valentine Malvern,
as I suppose I ought to call you," said the clerk, rising from
his seat and making a low bow.

" It is true that my friends wish me to assume the family
honours, as they have already persuaded me to take the
management of the estate," observed the young gentleman,
with a profound sigh; " but I cannot endure the thought
of adopting a course which, after all, might prove an usur-
pation."

" I wish that I could give you any hope, sir, of your
lamented father's restoration," said the clerk. " I had
known him for many years, ever since he first came to
live in Hanover Square, and I have therefore known you
also, Sir Valentine, from your childhood — "

" Do not address me as if I were already in possession of
the title, my good friend," interrupted Malvern. " I have
vowed to suffer a year to pass before I will consider my
father as really dead, although, to speak candidly, Mr.
Jackson, I feel that I am hoping against hope's extinction,
and therefore in very desperation."

" Alas! yes, Mr. Malvern, — since it is thus that you
choose to be still called," observed the clerk; " so mysterious
a disappearance, happening all on a sudden, and without
leaving a trace behind, cannot be accounted for otherwise
than by the supposition that accident or foul play must have
overtaken the unfortunate gentleman. If it was an accident,
sir, some clue would have been discovered; and therefore — "

" Proceed not, Jackson, — 'tis too dreadful to reflect
upon," interrupted Malvern. Then, as if to divert his
thoughts from the melancholy topic, he said, " Have you
found the entry in the register of births? "

" I have, sir," replied Jackson. " You were born on the

THE MARRIAGE 3

3d of July, 1792, and therefore you are a little past twenty-
two years old. I suppose your trustees require official proof
of your having attained your majority? "

" Precisely so/' answered Valentine. "It is a mere
matter of form, inasmuch as they are relatives of mine and
know full well my exact age. But still it is necessary to
have everything regular, and therefore you must give me a
certificate."

" To be sure, Mr. Malvern," returned the clerk; and he
proceeded to fill up the usual form, which he handed to
Valentine. " By the bye, sir," he observed, " we are going
to have a wedding in a few minutes. I did not know last
evening, when I met you in the square and you told me that
you required your baptismal certificate, I did not know,
I say, that I should have to visit the church for another
purpose this morning. Not that marriages are rare at St.
George's, Heaven knows. Quite the contrary. But it was
only late last evening that I received the intimation that
there was one for this morning; and being a special license,
I suppose it is rather a hurried affair," added the clerk, in a
mysterious whisper; for he was evidently a man of garrulous
propensities, although of kind disposition and inoffensive
nature.

" Who are the happy pair? " asked Valentine, not choos-
ing to offend the worthy man by cutting short the discourse
abruptly, but in reality experiencing not the slightest
interest in the question which he had just put.

"Mr. Horace Sackville and Miss Venetia Trelawney,"
replied the clerk. " Miss Trelawney, you know, is a cele-
brated beauty, — indeed, the most lovely woman that ever
was seen. So I am informed, at least; for I have never seen
her, to my knowledge."

" Nor I, either," observed Valentine. Then, impelled by
some undefinable feeling of curiosity, he said, " I shall
remain and witness the ceremony."

"Ah! sir," remarked Jackson, shaking his head solemnly,
" these fashionable marriages that take place in this church
often set me a-thinking in a strange way. I have seen young
and beautiful creatures almost dragged, as it were, to the
altar, to bestow their hands upon drivelling dotards old
enough to be their grandfathers; and I have afterward
watched their career in the world with great interest and

4 THE COURT OF LONDON

anxiety. The wives in these cases always turned out wrong
sooner or later; in nine cases out of ten there have been
elopements, crim. cons., divorces, and other disgraceful
scenes. Then, again, I have beheld young bridegrooms
leading withered old women to that altar, — spendthrifts,
who, having run through their own fortunes, obtain by
marriage an opportunity of running through the fortunes of
others. Yes, sir, I have seen many, many marriages in this
church, but few, very few indeed that were for real love and
have led to happiness. To tell you the truth, Mr. Malvern,
I don't think the upper classes, generally speaking, have
got any hearts at all, and if they have, they're seldom or
never in the right place."

" Most assuredly the English aristocracy is not distin-
guished for morality, generosity, or intelligence/ ' observed
Valentine.

At this moment the clergyman entered the vestry; and
Valentine being well acquainted with him, they conversed
together for a few minutes. But as the time for the ceremony
was now at hand, Malvern retired into the church, where he
entered a pew near the altar.

At that moment there were no other spectators present;
but scarcely had Valentine taken his seat when the Earl
of Curzon made his appearance in the church and walked
slowly up the aisle. He was pale and evidently much
annoyed, although he endeavoured to conceal his vexation.
Observing Valentine, with whom he was well acquainted,
he entered the same pew and sat down by his side. While
they were conversing in a subdued tone, Sir Douglas Hunting-
don arrived, and also walking up the aisle, he noticed the
earl and Malvern, whom he immediately joined. His
looks were perfectly good-humoured; and by the very first
remark he made, he showed that he had not come thither by
accident, nor was a stranger to the ceremony about to take
place.

" Are you interested at all, Malvern, in Miss Trelawney's
marriage? " he inquired, with a smile.

" How can I be? " asked the young gentleman. " I do
not know her, nor do I believe that I have ever seen her.
I came to the church on some business with the clerk, and
hearing of what was about to take place, I remained to wit-
ness the ceremony."

THE MARRIAGE 5

" How did you know of it? " inquired the Earl of Curzon,
in a whisper to Sir Douglas Huntingdon.

" Oh, from some secret information," answered the
baronet. " How did you? "

" Also from some secret source," was the earl's response.
" You do not appear to care about it at all."

" What is the use? " said Huntingdon. " Sackville is a
lucky dog, that is all I can say. I shall offer him and Venetia
my congratulations. But you seem to be particularly
chagrined."

"I did not think it possible that the matter could have
ended thus," replied Curzon, petulantly. " But here they
come! "

The doors at the entrance were thrown open as the earl
was speaking; and the whispered colloquy, which Valentine
Malvern did not overhear, was thus cut short.

The bridal party entered the church. It consisted of
Venetia Trelawney, Horace Sackville, Mrs. Arbuthnot, her
daughter Penelope, Miss Bathurst, Doctor Copperas, and
two or three other ladies and gentlemen, all the arrangements
having been made under the supervision of Miss Bathurst,
who, be it remembered, was Horace Sackville's aunt.

As the reader may suppose, Venetia looked transcendently
beautiful in her virgin raiment. Her countenance was pale;
her looks were downcast, and the long fringes that veiled
her deep blue eyes rested upon her cheeks. A gentle melan-
choly and soft bashfulness blended in the expression of her
features; but she seemed far lovelier at this moment of
timidity and embarrassment than when radiant with the
smiles of triumph or dignified in the presence of insult.
Above her forehead, within the elegant white bonnet, lay
her rich auburn hair, of velvet smoothness, and having the
appearance of dark gold as the prismatic light from the
painted window fell upon it. The virgin drapery displayed
all the grand contours and flowing outlines of her shape,
that form in which voluptuous fulness was so admirably
blended with symmetrical proportion. Nor was the dress
itself whiter than the bosom of which it allowed transient
glimpses, and the swelling volume of which gave such
richness to her figure in a profile view and rendered the
waist more delicate than even it really was.

Horace Sackville experienced a joy which beamed in his

6 THE COURT OF LONDON

looks, and a disinterested beholder would have thought
that so handsome and elegant a young man was indeed well
fitted to lead so charming a bride to the altar. Miss Bathurst
and Penelope, who officiated as bridesmaids, were both
beautifully dressed, as was also Mrs. Arbuthnot; and Doctor
Copperas, proud of the honour of being selected to give the
bride away, whispered to Miss Bathurst that his only regret
was that " so eminent a man and shrewd an observer of
human nature as Doctor Thurston was not present to enrich
his phrenological knowledge by contemplating the counte-
nances of the happy couple."

On passing toward the altar, Sackville noticed Sir
Douglas Huntingdon and the Earl of Curzon, to whom
he bowed, and he could not prevent a gleam of triumph
from appearing for a moment upon his countenance. The
baronet returned his salutation with friendly familiarity,
the earl with cold hauteur. Venetia looked neither to the
right nor to the left, and did not therefore observe them.

Not only, however, was she noticed by her two unsuccess-
ful suitors, but also by Valentine Malvern, who started on
catching the first glimpse of her countenance, for it instan-
taneously struck him that he had seen her before. The
where, the when, and the circumstances also flashed to his
mind in a moment; and he contemplated her with a more
earnest attention as she passed up the central avenue of the
church. There was a mingled expression of astonishment
and doubt in his features as he thus followed her with his
eyes; and when she reached the altar and her countenance
was no longer visible, her back being now turned toward
him, he said, in a low whisper, to the Earl of Curzon, " Is
that Miss Trelawney? "

" It is," replied the nobleman.

" Then I must be mistaken/' thought Valentine to him-
self; but resuming his seat in the pew and bending his head
forward, he gave way to the reflections that were now upper-
most in his mind.

The clergyman and clerk had in the meantime taken their
places at the communion table, and the marriage ceremony
commenced. Scarcely had it begun when two more in-
dividuals entered the church, one taking his place somewhat
noisily in a pew, and the other planting himself in the re-
motest angle of the sacred edifice. The former was Captain

THE MARRIAGE 7

Tash, whose nose seemed to indicate that his morning
draught at the Green Dragon had been none of the weakest;
the latter was his man Robin, who appeared quite astonished
at finding himself inside a church, especially the most
fashionable one of the West End.

The ceremony was completed, and Venetia became the
wife of Horace Sackville. The happy pair received the
congratulations of those who belonged to the bridal party;
and Sir Douglas Huntingdon, advancing with a frank
affability, requested permission to offer his congratulations
likewise. As for the Earl of Curzon, he remained in the
pew for a few moments longer; then, suddenly prompted
by some thought, he followed the baronet toward the altar.

Venetia had received the congratulations of Sir Douglas
Huntingdon in the same spirit in which they were evidently
offered; but the moment her eyes met the looks of the Earl
of Curzon, a flush of displeasure appeared upon her counte-
nance.

" I congratulate you, Mrs. Sackville, upon this happy
occasion," he said, in a low tone and with accents that were
full of a malignant irony; then, turning abruptly away, as
Venetia drew herself up haughtily, he took Horace aside for
an instant, muttering in his ear, " I congratulate you also
upon your marriage with one who has abandoned herself
both to Leveson and the prince, and on the same evening,
too."

He then turned away and walked out of the church, fol-
lowed by Sir Douglas Huntingdon. Sackville, who was
staggered for a moment, almost instantaneously recovered
himself; and giving his arm to his lovely bride, he led her
toward the vestry, where the register was to be signed. This
ceremony being completed, the party quitted the church.

Two carriages were waiting at the door to convey the
company to Miss Bathurst's residence in Stratton Street,
where an elegant repast was prepared. Lady Wenlock,
the Honourable George Macnamara, and Lieutenant Apsley
of the Guards, who had been invited, were already there;
and the usual healths were drunk. Doctor Copperas, in
making a speech, observed that " it was assuredly the hap-
piest morning he had ever passed in all his life, with the one
exception of the memorable and never-to-be-forgotten day
on which he first had the honour of being introduced to

8 THE COURT OF LONDON

that extraordinary man, the ornament of his profession,
Doctor Thurston."

The breakfast was over, a footman announced that the
carriage was in readiness, and Sackville handed his bride into
the vehicle. The serious-looking old livery servant and
Jessica were seated in the rumble behind ; the trunks were
packed upon the roof, and, all being in readiness,the postilion
drove away at a rapid rate.

The happy couple were bound for Brighton, where they
intended to pass a few days. They spoke but little until
the travelling-carriage was beyond the southern outskirts
of London; but they sat with their hands united in each
other's clasp, and exchanging fond looks. For Horace adored
and worshipped the charming creature who had become
his bride; and Venetia was not indifferent to the fervid
attachment, the personal appearance, and the elegant man-
ners of him who was now her husband.

" Did not Curzon whisper something annoying in your
ears, Horace? " inquired Venetia, at length, a slight flush
appearing upon her countenance. " Tell me what he said,"
she urged, seeing that Sackville hesitated to reply.

" He said that he was aware of your visit to Lord Leve-
son and also to the prince on the same evening," answered
Horace.

" And so were you," replied Venetia, laughing. " But
you were also acquainted with the particulars of these
interviews and the results of each."

" I was nevertheless startled at the moment, my angel,"
said Horace; " because I could not possibly conceive how
the earl came to learn that you had paid those visits."

" He employed spies to follow me," said Venetia, her
musical laugh sounding deliciously upon her husband's
ears, although he felt deeply indignant at the announcement
which excited her gaiety. " I discovered it all yesterday;
his spies were even in the church ere now. But let us con-
verse on other matters for the present; and I will tell you
all about the spies on some future occasion."

" Be it so, dearest," said Horace, as he gazed with inex-
pressible devotion on the lovely creature who was now his
own.

Meantime, Valentine Malvern had returned to his own
house at No. 20, Hanover Square, his mind filled with the

THE MARRIAGE 9

if

image of Venetia; and he even reproached himself fre-
quently during the remainder of the day for allowing the
incidents of the morning to divert his thoughts at all from the
painful topic on which they were hitherto wont to be settled,
namely, the unaccounted-for disappearance of his father,
Sir Archibald.

With regard to the happy couple, we might record all the
tender and interesting things which they said to each other
during the ride to Brighton. We might say how they reached
that fashionable watering-place at a late hour in the evening,
how they took up their quarters at the principal hotel, and
how they both longed, with a secret rapture which they
mutually concealed, for the arrival of the moment that was
to crown their wedded bliss. But we must not dwell upon
those details, nor prolong unnecessarily this portion of our
narrative. If, however, we may penetrate for a single instant
into the nuptial chamber, where Jessica hastily divested
her mistress of her apparel, we might observe that never,
never had Venetia appeared more transcendently lovely
than when, with blushing cheeks and heaving bosom, she
heard her faithful attendant expatiate upon the hand-
some appearance of the bridegroom. We might add that in
the meantime Horace himself was waiting with all possible
anxiety in an adjacent dressing-room; and we might close
our observations by stating that when at length Jessica had
withdrawn, and the happy pair were clasped in each other's
arms, they both forgot any disagreeable circumstances which
pertained to their union, and abandoned themselves to
those delights which Milton did not deem unworthy to be
apostrophized and honoured in his immortal verse.

CHAPTER II

AN ARISTOCRATIC PAIR

IT was about noon on the day of the marriage just de-
scribed, and a beautiful lady was lounging negligently
upon a sofa in a handsomely furnished apartment at a
mansion in Grosvenor Street.

She was about six and twenty years of age, of middle
height, and of dark but clear complexion. There was a
peculiar beauty in the full lips of bright scarlet; and these,
together with her flashing eyes and decisively pencilled
brows, indicated the warmth of her temperament.

Her countenance was of an Oriental style of loveliness,
irradiated, as it were, with a dark yet glowing lustre. Her
hair was not precisely of sable blackness, but had that purple
and glossy hue which made it shining, soft, and smooth as
velvet; its luxuriance was remarkable, and, the lady's
toilet not having as yet been achieved, the heavy tresses
hung in massive clusters upon the firm, plump, and polished
shoulders. Her profile was softly aquiline, without anything
approaching to prominency of feature, save in respect to the
lips, which were luscious and full, but not coarse. The teeth
which they revealed, when parting in smiles that breathed
a tender sensuousness, were of pearly whiteness; and her
looks were brilliant and animated, with a provocative
expression of subdued wantonness.

Her bust was purely sculptural, the chest being somewhat
narrow, and the bosoms by no means exuberant, but of
sufficient development to mark the statue-like contours of
her shape. They were well detached, rising in perfect
hemispheres, and sustaining the beauty of their proportions
by their own firmness; for at the moment we are describing
this lady she wore neither corset nor artificial means

10

AN ARISTOCRATIC PAIR 11

of compressure. An elegant morning- wrapper was drawn
loosely around her form, and confined at the waist by a
broad ribbon negligently tied.

Her arms were not stout, but most symmetrically mod-
elled; and nothing could exceed the beauty of her hand, with
the pellucid nails seeming like supporting arches to the taper
fingers, and of a rosy tint. Her feet were long and narrow;
the ankles were not too slight, but perfectly rounded, and
swelling gradually upward into a fine development of limb.
Passion was in her looks, but a voluptuous and dreamy
langour was in her attitude as she reclined upon the sofa.

The Oriental duskiness of her complexion, appearing like
the softest and most delicate tinge of bronze, made her
seem a warm and glowing creature, with the hottest blood
running in her veins and ready to mantle in crimson flush
upon the countenance at the slightest emotion. Then how
eloquent would become her features with those ardent and
passionate blushes, but eloquent only of consuming sensu-
ousness or some other feeling equally intense. She did not
seem a woman who could love fondly, but furiously, not
a being susceptible of any lasting impression, but full of
erratic longings and desires. Nevertheless, as if profoundly
conscious of her own nature and understanding all the
weakness as well as all the strength of her soul, she assumed
in society a look of calm bashfulness and modest reserve,
which led even the most experienced observer to suppose
that she was a woman whose fervid temperament was kept
under becoming restraint by an innate virtue and sense of
propriety that rose dominant above her passions.

Such was Editha, the Countess of Curzon.

Though the aristocracy, generally speaking, are licen-
tious and immoral to a degree, there are certain families
belonging to that sphere who are more than the rest noto-
rious for hereditary profligacy. Depravity would seem to
run in their blood, and to be as traditionary as their titles
and estates. The factitious honour of birth and the flagrant
dishonour of conduct would appear to be a concurrent
heritage in these cases. To such a family did Lady Curzon
belong. She was one of six sisters; all were heiresses, all
were married, and Editha was the only one of the six who
had not proved faithful to the family character by being
convicted in a court of justice of being unfaithful to her

12 THE COURT OF LONDON

husband. The five sisters were all divorced, and had either
married again or were living in a disreputable manner with
paramours. Whether Editha was really faithful to the Earl
of Curzon will presently transpire; at all events, scandal
had never breathed a sentence against her reputation. Her
mother had been a notorious demirep, her aunts were all
invested with the same unenviable notoriety; and Editha
was the only female scion of her family who had reached the
age of twenty-six without figuring in a trial for crim. con.,
or in a divorce case before the House of Lords.

She was lounging, as already stated, upon the sofa, when
the door opened and her husband entered the room. After
having witnessed the marriage of Venetia and Horace at
St. George's Church, he had taken a walk in the park to
endeavour to dissipate his ill-humour and vexation; but
this condition of feeling was only aggravated, instead of
becoming appeased, the more he gave way to thought. He
accordingly returned home at about noon; and, although
he was not accustomed to vouchsafe much of his company
to his wife, the fantasy nevertheless took hold of him to
seek her presence on this occasion.

" Well, Editha, all alone, and not dressed yet? " he
exclaimed, flinging himself into a chair at some distance
from where she was reclining on the sofa.

" It is too early for visitors, and I do not feel inclined to
go out in the carriage to-day," she answered, in a manner
not precisely cold, but indifferent.

" By the bye, you asked me for some money yesterday,"
observed the nobleman, " and I promised to give you some
to-day. Here are a couple of hundred guineas. I borrowed
two thousand of Emmerson, a bill-broker in the City."

"Ah! I have heard the name before," said Editha. " But
what do you suppose I can do with two hundred guineas
toward paying all that is owing? "

" You must do what you can, my dear," replied the earl,
with perfect unconcern. " I wanted the remainder for my
own special purposes."

At this moment a servant entered the room bearing a
letter on a silver tray, which she handed to the countess.
She took it languidly, supposing that it was a note of invita-
tion or frivolous correspondence from some female friend;
but the instant she caught a glimpse of the handwritingr

AN ARISTOCRATIC PAIR 13

she started slightly, in a scarcely perceptible manner, while
a gentle flush appeared upon her countenance. The earl,
who was observing her at the instant, noticed that little
movement and this transient glow; and he said, " Who is
your correspondent? "

" No one of any importance," replied Editha; and having
hastily scanned the contents of the note, she thrust it into
her bosom.

The earl was neither astonished by the evasive answer
which she gave him, nor by the manner in which she thus
disposed of the letter, for they had long ceased to be
on terms of mutual confidence and were not accustomed to
communicate, much less peruse, each other's correspondence.
But he had noticed the start and the flush, and a suspicion,
faint as the first glimmer of dawn in the Oriental sky,
gleamed in his brain.

This was the first time he had ever entertained an idea
derogatory to the honour of his wife. On the contrary, he
had hitherto believed her strictly faithful to her marriage
vows. But now — he scarcely knew why — a certain uneasi-
ness crept slowly upon him. That start, almost imperceptible
as it was, and that blush, faint and transient though it were,
had engendered a vague and undefined misgiving in his
breast. The next moment he found himself reflecting upon
the fact that Editha belonged to a family notorious for its
profligacy; and he knew full well that her own passions were
of the strongest, most fervid, and insatiable description.

All these thoughts traversed his brain in a few moments;
but dissembling the incipient uneasiness which he experi-
enced, and suddenly determining not to excite in her mind
the suspicion that he even entertained such a misgiving,
he began to converse upon a variety of ordinary topics. On
the other hand, Editha fancied that her temporary emotion
on receiving the letter had escaped his observation; and
she discoursed with more gaiety and friendliness than she
had for a long time manifested toward her husband.

He would have given worlds to obtain a peep, just one
peep, at that letter; but the thing was impracticable. At
one moment he was half-inclined to seat himself by her
side and begin to toy and dally with her; but such a course,
by being most unusual on his part, would at once have
excited her suspicions as to his real object. He therefore

14 THE COURT OF LONDON

abandoned the idea, and resolved to watch her move-
ments.

Luncheon was presently served up; and afterward Lady
Curzon retired to her chamber to dress. The earl went out
to visit some friends; but they all noticed that he looked
gloomy and absent. At six he returned home to dinner;
and as there was no company that day, he and his wife
were alone together. He drank more freely than usual, and
forced himself into a gaiety which was, after all, so well
assumed that it entirely deceived the countess.

" What are you going to do with yourself this evening? "
he inquired, when the dessert was placed upon the table and
the domestics had withdrawn.

" I was thinking of passing an hour or two with Lady
Lechmere," was the quiet response.

" But I thought you did not purpose to go out to-day? "
said Curzon, regarding her furtively but with earnest atten-
tion.

" I meant that I was in no humour to take my usual air-
ing in the carriage," observed Edit ha, glancing toward the
timepiece on the mantel.

" May I accompany you to Lady Lechmere's? " asked the
earl, as he helped himself to claret.

" What an idea! " ejaculated the countess, looking hard
at her husband. Then, feeling convinced that he suspected
nothing, so well did he dissimulate, she observed, laughing,
" The world will fancy you have become quite uxorious all
on a sudden. Besides, Lady Lechmere did not include you
in the invitation she sent me this morning, for that note
which I received when you were with me was from her."

" Well, I do not press it," said the earl, apparently quite
satisfied. " Only I thought that as we have been a little
more friendly to-day than for some time past, it would be
as well if such a feeling were to continue."

" And who first destroyed that feeling? " asked Editha,
with a slight accent of sarcasm hi her voice.

" I must confess that I have not proved a model of a
husband," said the earl; " but then there are allowances
to be made. Remember the artificial state of society in
which we live, move, and breathe, think of the temptations
by which a man of my rank and position is inevitably
surrounded — "

AN ARISTOCRATIC PAIR 15

" Oh, I have not time to discuss the point with you now,"
exclaimed Editha, starting from her seat and laughing in
a lively manner. "It is seven o'clock, and I must hurry
away. But I shall cheerfully promote the friendly feeling
which you say has arisen between us once more. So now
adieu; I am off to North Audley Street," where, we should
observe, Lady Lech mere resided.

" And I shall go and pass the evening with Leveson," said
the earl, " or else with Huntingdon, if the marquis should
not be at home."

The husband and wife both quitted the dining-room
together. The former took down his hat from a peg in the
hall, and sallied forth at once; and Editha, having seen
him thus take his departure, ascended to her own cham-
ber.

But the Earl of Curzon, instead of repairing to the Marquis
of Leveson's, hastened to the nearest hackney-coach stand,
entered a vehicle, and returned in it to the immediate
vicinage of his own mansion. He ordered it to stop nearly
opposite, as if waiting to receive a fare from the house at
which it thus drew up ; and remaining inside, he kept watch
upon the door of his own dwelling. His wife's carriage was
already there, and in a few minutes he saw the front door
open. Then a female figure, enveloped in a handsome
cloak, and with a thick veil over her face, descended the
stone steps and entered the carriage, which immediately
drove away.

Thrusting his head from the window of the hackney-coach,
the earl directed the driver to follow the carriage at an easy
distance; but when, in the course of a few minutes, he
found that the equipage which he was pursuing turned into
North Audley Street, he said to himself, " Well, after all,
she is really going to Lady Lechmere's. Perhaps I have
done her an injustice; " and yet the dark suspicion still
remained in the profundity of his soul.

The carriage stopped at Lady Lechmere's; the hackney-
coach halted a few doors off, and the earl again watched
eagerly from the window. " Yes, she enters the house, and
the carriage drives away," he muttered to himself. " I will
now go and join the party at Lady Lechmere's, invent
some excuse for following Editha after what she said upon
the proposal I made to accompany her, and endeavour to

16 THE COURT OF LONDON

ascertain whether she expected to meet some particular
individual there."

The earl was about to order the hackney-coach to drive
up to Lady Lechmere's door, when the thought struck him
that the course he was about to adopt could not possibly
fail to be seen through by Editha. If she were really guilty,
it would only serve to put her the more completely on her
guard; and if she were innocent, he would be rendering
himself supremely ridiculous in her eyes. No, he must
continue to veil his suspicions, and watch her movements
until he should either obtain substantial proof of her infi-
delity or else acquire the certainty that his fears were totally
unfounded. Having thus resolved, he ordered the hackney-
coach to take him back to Grosvenor Street; and alighting
at a short distance from his dwelling, he dismissed the
vehicle.

Consulting his watch by the aid of a door-lamp, he saw that
it wanted twenty minutes to eight; and not knowing what
to do with himself for the rest of the evening, he resolved to
proceed to Lord Leveson's in Albemarle Street. But a
sudden idea struck him. The fact was that his wife's princi-
pal lady's-maid, Gertrude by name, was a very beautiful
young woman, with a voluptuous figure, a wanton counte-
nance, fine teeth, and a pair of the most wicked eyes that
ever sent forth flashing looks from pupils of the darkest
jet. The earl had more than once flung furtive glances of
deep meaning upon the captivating Gertrude; but she inva-
riably appeared to take no notice of his amorous oglings.
This bashfulness on her part, he felt assured, was only an
affectation of strict propriety; and, being a very handsome
man, as well as imbued with all the characteristic conceit,
arrogance, and vanity of the order to which he belonged,
he flattered himself that he had only to become more ex-
plicit in his overtures to achieve an easy triumph in that
quarter. The opportunity and the humour now alike served
admirably; his wife was from home, he was restless and
uneasy, he wanted something to amuse and divert his mind,
and he resolved to enter upon the conquest of the beautiful
Gertrude forthwith.

Thus, only a few minutes after watching the movements
of his wife, and still smarting with the suspicion of her
infidelity, — an infidelity which, if brought home to her,

AN ARISTOCRATIC PAIR 17

he was prepared to brand with all the ignominy of
exposure, prosecution, and divorce, — this unprincipled
aristocrat retraced his way homeward with the deliberate
intention of seducing that selfsame wife's confidential
attendant. But is this flagrant case an isolated one, or is it
a mere type of man's too frequent conduct? Alas! yes;
the husband may sin with comparative impunity, but if the
wife, no matter how neglected and ill-used at home, yields
to temptation, there is nought but the highest chastisement
and most signal penalty for her. Truly, woman has her
wrongs, which should engage the thoughts and enlist the
sympathies of the philanthropist and moralist in this age
when all the world is crying out for political and social reform.

The Earl of Curzon retraced his way homeward; but
just as he arrived in front of his house, he beheld a female,
dressed in the well-known apparel of Gertrude herself,
ascending the area steps. Yes, it was her cloak, which he had
often observed as becoming her so well, her bonnet, which he
had frequently noticed as being worn so coquettishly. But
a thick black veil was drawn over her countenance, — a
modest precaution which all respectable and well-behaved
young women of her class were wont to adopt in those times,
when the streets were comparatively unprotected with the
wretched guardianship of old watchmen, and when roistering
blades and impudent gallants were accustomed to insult
every woman whose unveiled features happened to please
their fantasy.

" Gertrude, my dear girl," said Curzon, assuming his bland-
est tones, " where are you going ? "

But, instead of stopping, as the earl had hoped and
expected, she brushed past him with evident indignation and
hurried along the street. He was, however, almost imme-
diately at her side again; and, in a voice of gentle remon-
strance, he said, " Why are you so cruel? You know that
I love you, Gertrude, — yes, ten thousand times better than
I love your mistress; my looks must have told you so. Come,
will you not speak to me, — not a single word? Throw up
that veil, and let me see whether you are really and posi-
tively angry. I would wager anything that you are smiling
with a delightful wickedness behind that thick screen. Ger-
trude, do you hear me? Surely you do not require so much
coaxing? "

18 THE COURT OF LONDON

But, instead of making any response to this softly insidious
language, she endeavoured to outstrip him; then, finding
that he persevered in accompanying her, and evidently
alarmed or else profoundly indignant at his importunities,
she shrank against the wall as if about to faint.

" Good heavens, Gertrude! " exclaimed the nobleman,
looking uneasily up and down the street, with the fear that
they might be observed and that it would be supposed
he was ill-using the female; " you cannot mean that you are
really angry with me? Give me your hand, take my arm, and
we will converse quietly and tranquilly as we walk along."

Thus speaking, he endeavoured to take her hand; but she
withdrew it violently, a faint scream bursting from her lips
at the same moment. The earl was astounded; he had not
anticipated such opposition to his overtures. Suddenly the
front door of the house opposite opened, and several gentle-
men appeared on the threshold.

" For God's sake, come away with me, Gertrude! " said
the earl, impatiently.

But she made a movement as if about to fly toward the
gentlemen at the door opposite; and the earl, dreading the
scandal of an exposure, beat a rapid retreat toward his own
mansion, while the object of his importunity hurried away
in the contrary direction.

Baffled, enraged, disappointed, and humiliated, the Earl
of Curzon reentered his dwelling; and after drinking a
tumbler of claret to cool the throat which was parched with
the fever of overwrought excitement, he flung himself upon
a sofa and gave way to his unpleasurable reflections. Every-
thing seemed to be going wrong with him; all circumstances
were combining for his annoyance. His pecuniary affairs
were in no agreeable position; he had failed to possess him-
self of Venetia, whose charms had well-nigh maddened him;
the suspicion which he entertained relative to his wife was
still strong enough to goad and torture him cruelly; and
now the rebuff he had experienced from Gertrude crowned
his humiliation and annoyance. He was just in that humour
when a man would give anything to be able to vent his
spite upon the head of some victim, either for a real or an
imaginary offence.

Suddenly a thought struck him. His wife was from home,
and Gertrude was also absent. The former would not, in all

AN ARISTOCRATIC PAIR 19

probability, return until eleven o'clock or perhaps midnight ;
and the latter had no doubt received permission to pass the
evening with her friends. What if the earl were to search
in Editha's boudoir to see if he could discover the note
which she had received in the morning, or any other letters
that might afford a clue to her conduct?

Inspired with this idea, Curzon hastened up-stairs, entered
the boudoir, and, closing the door, began to search all the
drawers. He however discovered nothing of any conse-
quence. Editha's writing-desk stood upon a table, but it
was locked. He took out his own bunch of keys and tried
every one of them at all corresponding with the size of the
lock. The last key was found to fit, and the desk was opened.

One of the compartments was filled with letters, which the
earl proceeded to examine with careful attention. But they
were chiefly invitations to parties, communications from the
female friends of the countess or from her sisters, or dunning
applications from tradesmen. One note, however, some-
what puzzled the earl. It was from Lady Lechmere, dated
about three months back, and running as follows:

" I have received your hasty note, my dear Editha, and
send you back a reply by Gertrude. Yes, I will be at home all
the evening, and will adopt the usual precautions. You have
nothing to fear on that account. The servants shall receive
orders to admit no one but the Countess of Curzon. But are
you certain that you can trust the girl?

" Your affectionate friend,

" KATHERINE LECHMERE."

This letter, laconic though it were, was sufficient to
strengthen the earl's misgivings. There was evidently some
secret understanding between his wife and Lady Lechmere.
What usual precautions were to be adopted? Why was there
nothing to fear? And if the girl alluded to was Gertrude,
wherefore should it be necessary to exercise caution in trust-
ing her? Did Editha receive a lover's visits at Lady Lech-
mere's? If so, what meant the orders to the servants to
admit no one but Editha herself ? Lady Lechmere was a
widow, and had neither brother, uncle, son, nor male cousin,
residing with her beneath the same roof. Editha's lover, if
she had one, was not therefore an inhabitant of the house;

20 THE COURT OF LONDON

and how could she go thither to meet him, since none but
herself was to be admitted?

There was a deep mystery in all this; and the more pro-
found the mystery, the stronger becomes the suspicion.
So it was in the present case; and while completely perplexed
by the ambiguous contents of the note, the Earl of Curzon
nevertheless regarded it as an item of evidence against the
countess. At all events, it was certain that whatsoever the
secret might be, Gertrude was in the confidence of her
mistress; but had he not mortally offended the lady's-maid
by his conduct that evening, and could he hope to propitiate
her in such a way as to lead her to divulge anything she
knew?

Reserving this matter for after-consideration, the earl
continued his search amongst his wife's papers. To his
further surprise he presently discovered a bill of exchange
accepted by himself. It was an old bill, which had been duly
honoured by him on arriving at maturity ; but it ought to be
upon a file in his library, instead of in his wife's desk. It
might, however, have come there by accident; and, after all,
the incident was trivial in itself and could have no connection
with the object of the search which he was instituting.

At the bottom of the desk he discovered a slip of paper,
on which the name of " Curzon " was written several times.
He examined the writing attentively, and soon saw that it
was not in his own hand, as he had at the first glance
imagined it to be. But the writing was evidently in imitation
of his own, and a more minute inspection convinced him
that it was Editha's. Had she, then, been practising his
signature? It appeared so; but for what earthly purpose?
The bill of exchange caught his eye; and it instantaneously
struck him that she had surreptitiously possessed herself of it
in order to copy his signature. Yes, this was now apparent
enough; but again recurred the question, for what purpose
had she done this?

There were no more papers to examine, and the earl
returned all the letters and documents to the compartment
of the desk whence he had taken them. The other compart-
ment only contained writing-paper and sealing-wax. He
locked the desk again, and, quitting the boudoir unobservedly
as he had entered it, retraced his way to the dining-room.

CHAPTER III

THE BILLS OP EXCHANGE

AT about a quarter-past eight o'clock Malpas and Mr.
Emmerson entered Soho Square, and proceeded direct to the
establishment of Mrs. Gale, who, previously informed by the
colonel of the intended visit, was prepared to receive them.
In fact, the colonel had been with her in the morning; and
having found means to pay her the five hundred guineas
owing to her, together with a handsome douceur by want of
interest, he once more stood in her good books. For Mrs.
Gale never cared what other people might think or say of a
person, so long as she had reason to be satisfied with his
conduct.

The colonel had told her in the morning exactly what he
wished to be done in the evening, and Mrs. Gale had made
arrangements accordingly. She now therefore conducted
Malpas and Emmerson up into a suite of rooms which we
must describe.

First, there was a handsome parlour, from which a little
cabinet opened at the side with a glass door. This glass door
had green blinds within, so that no one could see into it
from the parlour; whereas a person stationed in that cabinet
could easily observe, as he might also overhear, everything
that took place in the parlour. Beyond the parlour itself
there was a bedchamber, with a dressing-room adjoining.

Such was the suite to which Mrs. Gale conducted the
colonel and the bill-broker; and the moment she had retired,
Emmerson ensconced himself in the cabinet, taking the key
with him and locking the door inside.

A few minutes afterward Mrs. Gale reappeared, introduc-
ing the Countess of Curzon, whom she ceremoniously assisted
to lay aside her cloak and bonnet. The moment that the

21

22 THE COURT OF LONDON

woman had retired, Editha threw herself into the arms of
the colonel and embraced him with the fervour of infatuated
passion.

" I had some little difficulty in keeping this appointment
which you gave me, my dear Percy," said the countess,
addressing the colonel by his Christian name. " Would
you believe that the earl was seized with quite an uxorious
fit to-day, and actually wanted to accompany me to Lady
Lechmere's? But no matter — "

" You look somewhat flurried, dearest Editha," observed
Malpas, contemplating her with attention. " Has anything
occurred? "

" Nothing of any consequence. I will tell you presently,"
interrupted the lady, as she sat down by his side upon a sofa.
" But you must first explain why you wished to see me so
very particularly this evening, as your note stated. You
charged me to be sure and not disappoint you, Percy. And
by the bye, when I think of it, the earl was with me when
your note came."

" But he suspects nothing? " said Malpas, anxiously.

" Nothing, absolutely nothing," replied the countess,
emphatically. " Indeed, how can he? All our precautions
are so excellently taken. But pray explain the urgent
matter."

" You are well aware, dearest Editha," said Malpas, " that
I am always longing to be with you, always unhappy unless
in your society, and never happier than when clasping you
in my arms. Therefore, it is not surprising that I should
have been so urgent to meet you this evening, especially as
some days have elapsed since last we met. But there was
another inducement which prompted me to be so pressing
with regard to an interview for this evening; in fact, I
wished to have some serious conversation with you."

" What about? " inquired Editha, quickly; and her large
black eyes were fixed with a sort of uneasiness upon the
countenance of her paramour.

" Those bills, my dearest love," answered Malpas.

" Ah! " ejaculated the countess, becoming visibly troubled.
" You surely do not require any more assistance in that
shape? "

" Listen to me with patience for a few moments, Editha,"
said the colonel. " You are aware that I obtained the

THE BILLS OF EXCHANGE 23

money for those bills from a gentleman named Emmer-
son— "

" Yes, and my husband has likewise received money from
that Mr. Emmerson," interrupted Editha. " He told me
so this morning. But it was evident from his manner that
he did not know you had been dealing with the same money-
broker."

" He does not know it, Editha, — and very fortunate
is it for me/' added Malpas, with a profound seriousness of
manner, " that he is thus ignorant."

" Of course it is, Percy," exclaimed the countess, " very
fortunate for us both. If he knew that I had given the bills
to you, he would, as a matter of course, instantaneously
suspect that there is some very close intimacy between us.
When you first communicated to me your extreme pecuniary
embarrassments and stated that the earl had refused you
the service of his acceptance to a bill of exchange, I told
you that I could procure his name to a promissory note for
my own use."

" And I promised you," observed the colonel, " that I
would place that note in the hands of a gentleman who
would advance the money upon it and not breathe a syllable
to a soul relative to the transaction. I kept my word — "

" No doubt," interrupted the countess; " and you also
undertook to provide the funds to redeem the security even
before it should become due, so that the bill might not be
presented to the earl at all; otherwise, if presented, he would
of course see your name upon it."

" True, my dear Editha," said Malpas. " And you gave
me several bills at short intervals, with the earl's acceptance
to them."

" But I cannot see the utility of this recapitulation of
circumstances so well known to both of us," observed the
countess, with the glitter of uneasiness in her luminous eyes.
" The whole matter is summed up in a few words. You were
exceedingly pressed for money, and required a collateral
security. All these things you explained to me, as I knew
little or nothing about bills and promissory notes previously.
I told you that I would undertake to wheedle the earl out
of his acceptance, alleging that I required it to satisfy some
pressing liabilities due to my jewellers and dressmakers.
Knowing that the earl would not be in a condition to meet

24 THE COURT OF LONDON

the bill, I was obliged to assure him that one of my sisters
had promised me a large sum of money in a month or two,
and that I would provide for the bill by the time it should
come due. This was the pretext ; but in reality I relied upon
your obtaining the requisite funds, and I sincerely hope you
will be enabled to do so. Tell me, Percy, is there any doubt
upon that point? "

" My dear Editha, I shall obtain the funds somehow or
another," answered Malpas; " but that is not the immediate
question. I am afraid that, prompted by your affection for
me, and in order to save me from arrest and degradation at
the time — "

" What do you mean? " inquired the countess, with all
the petulance of intense uneasiness.

" I mean, dearest," answered the colonel, " that — but do
not be offended — that your husband did not sign those
bills."

" And what makes you think so? " demanded Editha,
actually gasping with the vain and ineffectual efforts which
she made to conceal her terror.

" Because Emmerson suspects something of the kind,"
returned Malpas. " He has compared the earl's signature
with that upon the bills which I placed in his hands."

" 0 God! I am lost! " cried Editha, no longer able to
keep down the effervescence of her harrowing emotions;
and, covering her face with her hands, she burst into tears.

" Compose yourself, for Heaven's sake! " said the colonel.
" Nothing is yet known. Mr. Emmerson is a gentleman
and possesses a kind heart; everything can be repaired
and remedied. Only do, I conjure you, my Editha, do
tell me all the truth."

" But is it yet time to prevent this storm from bursting
over my head? " she exclaimed, removing her hands from
her countenance and gazing up piteously in the face of her
paramour.

" There is time, I can assure you, Editha, — plenty of
time," answered Malpas. " Do not give way to grief, which
is now unavailing, but let us look the whole affair boldly
in the face. Mr. Emmerson only requires to have the pay-
ment assured, and he will never breathe a word relative
to the transaction. But pray tell me everything without
reserve."

THE BILLS OF EXCHANGE 25

" I will," said the countess, endeavouring to compose
her looks and her feelings. " You communicated your
embarrassments to me, and I was distracted at the thought
of seeing you borne off to a debtors' prison. I therefore
resolved to adopt a desperate course in order to save you.
And yet it neither seemed to me so desperate nor dangerous,
after all; because, from what you told me, I understood
clearly enough that if you provided the funds in time to
take up the bills, the earl need never know that his name
had been made use of at all. And that you would so pro-
vide the funds in due season I felt confident. Well, I ob-
tained from the earFs file of papers an old bill which he
had honoured some time since; and I imitated his signature,
after some practice, to the best of my ability. You had
previously told me that if I obtained his acceptance to the
blank stamps, you would fill them up. Now, you must
forgive me, my dear Percy," said the countess, in a tone of
impassioned entreaty, "for I did all this entirely through
devotion to you."

" Forgive you, dearest Edit ha! " exclaimed Malpas, much
of whose enthusiasm of tone and manner was affected;
" how can I do otherwise than forgive you? You have
risked much — I do not think you are precisely aware how
much — for my sake; and it is fortunate that we are in such
hands as Emmerson's. He is a perfect gentleman, pos-
sessed of great influence in the City, and will soon be an
alderman," added the colonel, sententiously; for he was
making these remarks in order to propitiate the bill-broker
whose close vicinage was so little suspected by the Countess
of Curzon.

" It is indeed fortunate that the bills are in such hands,"
said the countess, now bitterly repenting the imprudence
into which a passionate infatuation had betrayed her at the
time. " But does he already know that you have received
them from me? "

" I was compelled to confess the truth, Editha," replied
Malpas; " or else he would have given me into custody on
a charge of forgery."

" Ah! then you hesitated not to sacrifice my honour in
order to save your own," ejaculated the countess, suddenly
starting from the sofa, while the rich blood mantled in
scarlet glow through the transparent duskiness of her skin.

26 THE COURT OF LONDON

" Pardon me, Editha," said Malpas, confused and humili-
ated; " but what could I do? "

" Risked Newgate, death, anything, sooner than betray
the honour of a confiding woman," exclaimed the Countess
of Curzon, fixing upon her paramour a look of withering
scorn and superb contempt. " Did I risk nothing for you
when I forged my husband's name to save you from a
debtors' gaol? Have I risked nothing in giving you that
love which could alone prompt me to such a perilous act?
It was in a moment of utter contempt and indifference for
all consequences that I became a forger; and that supreme
recklessness was produced by my devotion to you. Now,
sir, you have rewarded me by betraying my honour into the
hands of an usurer."

" For God's sake, use no harsh words with respect to
Emmerson," exclaimed the colonel. " Your honour is safe
in his keeping, he will not betray you."

"Wretch!" ejaculated the countess, bitterly. "Much
as I loved you a minute back, I now hate and detest you.
Viper — would to heaven that I had the power of crushing
you under my foot! "

" Edit ha, you are raving," cried Malpas, his countenance
ghastly pale and his lips livid and quivering. " Do you
intend to quarrel with me for ever? "

" My pardon you can never obtain, sir," answered the
countess, haughtily. " If my heart were henceforth to
feel one moment's tenderness toward you, I would stab
it to the very core. But enough of this portion of the
painful drama. One word more, and I take my departure.
Am I to understand that you will arrange with Mr.
Emmerson for these bills and that you will provide for them
in due course? Or will you crown your infamy by suffering
the transaction to reach my husband's ears? "

" I will provide for them — on my honour I will provide
for them," exclaimed the colonel. " But hear me — "

" Enough, sir," ejaculated the countess, with imperious
tone and haughty manner.

She took up her bonnet and cloak; he advanced, trem-
blingly and pale, to assist her in putting on the latter, but
she repulsed him with a gesture of scorn.

He essayed to murmur a few syllables of abject entreaty,
but she darted upon him a look that seemed fraught with

THE BILLS OF EXCHANGE 27

the scathing powers of lightning. A moment afterward, and
she was gone.

Throughout this scene the bill-broker had remained a
hidden but profoundly interested observer in the cabinet
with the glass door. It was the first time he had ever seen
the Countess of Curzon; and he was astonished as well as
enraptured at the peculiar style of her loveliness. Her
beauty appeared to him of the Mauritanian species which
characterized the Moorish women who once made Spain
their home, and the memory of whose charms has been
preserved in many a tradition, legend, and romance. On
throwing off the cloak which enveloped her entire person,
Editha had appeared in a dark velvet dress, which seemed
most befitting her complexion; and the admirable fashion
of the costume set off the sculptural symmetry of her shape
to its utmost advantage.

Then the power of her eyes, so luminous in their in-
tense darkness, and so splendid with their long jetty
lashes, the rich hue of the flush that so often mantled on
her cheeks during the conversation with her now discarded
paramour, the vivid red of those lips that were so deli-
cious in their moist fulness and that seemed to breathe
sweets even when the words that passed through them were
sharp with scorn, the quick heavings of that bosom which
the low-bodied dress left more than half-exposed, the grace,
the elegance, and the dignity of her attitudes, all adapting
themselves to the style of the discourse she was hearing or
giving utterance to at the time, — in a word, every charm
and every attraction that invested or surrounded her pro-
duced a powerful effect upon Emmerson.

She departed in anger, as we have already described;
and then the bill-broker, unlocking the door, came forth
from the place of his concealment.

" Now, Emmerson, are you satisfied? " said Malpas,
still trembling beneath the influence of that withering,
blighting, scathing look which Editha had last thrown upon
him.

" She is the only woman I ever saw whose love is worth
dying for," responded the bill-broker. Then, gazing upon
Malpas with somewhat of that scorn and contempt which
he had caught, as it were by transfusion from the noble
lady who had just taken her departure, he said, " How feel

28 THE COURT OF LONDON

you now, colonel, after the closing scene in this drama, as
the countess so appropriately styled it? "

" Whatever has happened, Mr. Emmerson," replied
Malpas, moodily, " 'tis you who have driven me to it. But
now that you have heard my innocence proclaimed from the
lady's own lips, now also that you know every minute detail
of the entire transaction, what course do you propose to
adopt? "

" I am not decided at present," answered the bill-broker.
" You may, however, rest assured that I shall not take any
step which may compromise the Countess of Curzon. But
you will come to my office to-morrow morning and give me
your own bill — mind, your own bill — for the amount
which you owe me."

" I will be with you punctually at ten o'clock," said
Malpas, deriving no small consolation from the manner in
which Emmerson seemed disposed to treat the affair.

They then took their departure from Mrs. Gale's estab-
lishment.

Meantime the Earl of Curzon had been lounging in a
restless manner upon the sofa in the dining-room in Gros-
venor Street, or else pacing uneasily to and fro like a chafing
lion in his cage; and every now and then he had recourse
to the wine-decanter. But instead of soothing his agitated
thoughts, the juice of the grape added an artificial stimulant
to that natural excitement which was torturing him, and
though his spirit was so restless, the time hung insupport-
ably heavy upon his hands.

At length the timepiece upon the mantel struck eleven;
and a few minutes afterward the carriage drove up to the
front door of the house. The earl composed his features as
well as he was able, and went out into the hall to meet his
wife, for he felt anxious to have some conversation with her
although he had not made up his mind what to say, or how
to turn the wished-for discourse upon any topic which might
suit his own purposes. But he was in one of those humours
when a man of excitable temperament must have his say,
even if for no other end than to pick a quarrel and find an
issue for his pent-up spleen.

" I hope you have passed a pleasant evening," he said,
accosting the lady, as she was hurrying through the

THE BILLS OF EXCHANGE 29

hall, enveloped in the handsome cloak and with her thick
veil drawn over her countenance, just as he had seen her
when entering the carriage at half-past seven o'clock.
" Heyday! what does this mean? " he exclaimed, petulantly,
as she swept abruptly past him, flitted up -stairs, and dis-
appeared from his view all in a moment.

With another cause for ill-humour, he was returning to
the parlour when the sounds of light footsteps and the
rustling of garments met his ears; and looking around, he
caught a glimpse of the cloak of the pretty lady's-maid,
as the wearer was also hastening up the marble staircase.
The earl hurried after her and overtook her on the landing.

" Gertrude," he said, catching her by the arm and speaking
in a low, rapid whisper, " for Heaven's sake, do not mention
to your mistress what occurred just now; " and as he uttered
these words, he strove with piercing looks to penetrate the
thick veil which was also worn by her whom he thus ad-
dressed.

But breaking abruptly away from him, and without a
syllable of reply, she bounded up the next flight of stairs.

" Perdition seize the women! " muttered the earl to him-
self, as he slowly retraced his steps to the dining-room.
" What the devil possesses them both? My wife sweeps
past me in the hall as if I had the plague, and Gertrude
breaks away from me on the landing as if contact with me
were contagion. Then this mania of wearing their veils
up to their very bedrooms, as if they dared not look a man
in the face! "

And the earl walked to and fro in the parlour with uneven
steps and agitated feelings.

He waited ten minutes in the hope that his wife would
come down previously to retiring for the night; but as she
did not make her appearance, he resolved to go up to her
boudoir and either induce her to join him at the supper-table,
or else remain and converse with her in her own room. But
as he was ascending the stairs he met Gertrude face to face.

The beautiful girl had laid aside her bonnet, veil, and
cloak, and she could not help encountering the earl's looks.
A smile of ineffable archness and mischievous meaning ap-
peared upon her pouting lips as she thus met his gaze; but
she was hurrying past him when he once more caught her by
the arm and held her firmly.

30 THE COURT OF LONDON

" You have not breathed a word to your mistress? " he
said, in a hurried whisper.

" No, my lord, not a word," she replied, with a singularly
wicked and roguish look. " But you deserve that I should
have shown you no mercy after your rude treatment."

" I know you will pardon me, pretty Gertrude," he said.
" But why would you not speak to me just now on the
landing? "

" Why, my lord! " echoed the abigail; " because I heard
other footsteps upon the stairs, — at least I thought so, —
and likewise because I was afraid her ladyship would be
angry with me for staying out so late. I was ordered to be
home by half-past ten, and it was after eleven when I got
back. The carriage drove up to the door just as I was
descending the area steps."

" And where had you been, Gertrude? " inquired the earl,
thinking that the lady's-maid was not so cruel, after all,
inasmuch as she now conversed with tolerable freedom and
apparent good-humour.

" I passed the evening with my parents, my lord," she
replied, looking, however, as if she felt annoyed by the
question; " and it was with the permission of her ladyship,"
she added, pointedly.

" Which is as much as to say that I have no right to
inquire into your movements," observed the nobleman,
affecting to smile. " Come, tell me candidly, are you very,
very angry with me for my conduct of this evening? "

" Let me go, my lord, and I will tell you," said Gertrude.

" Now, then, you are free," observed the earl, as he let
go his grasp on her arm.

The lady's-maid flung another look of unspeakable arch-
ness upon him, and flitted down the stairs with the speed
and lightness of a spirit.

" The little minx! " muttered Curzon to himself. " But
she is not quite such a prude, after all, and she shall yet be
mine."

The little interview with the lady's-maid, being of a more
satisfactory nature than his two former attempts to engage
her in conversation, put the nobleman into a somewhat better
humour, especially as he had received from her lips the
assurance that his conduct was not reported to his wife.
For, although he had not on previous occasions been equally

THE BILLS OF EXCHANGE 31

solicitous to veil his irregularities from her knowledge, he
did not wish to appear ridiculous in her eyes as having met
with so mortifying a rebuff from her maid, nor was he de-
sirous that such a circumstance should reach her ears at the
very time he was seeking for proofs of her own suspected
infidelity.

One weight was therefore lifted from the earl's mind; and
now, becoming capable of calmer reasoning than for the last
two or three hours, he saw the impossibility of as yet making
any positive charge against his wife, or of even alluding to
Lady Lechmere's ambiguous note without admitting that
he had searched the writing-desk in Editha's absence.
Moreover, he had now hopes of winning Gertrude to his
interests; and as she was evidently in the confidence of her
mistress, it was important to glean from her lips those secrets
of which she had a knowledge.

Such were the reflections which swept, all in a moment,
through the mind of the earl, as he lingered upon the stairs
after Gertrude had flitted away so abruptly; and no longer
yearning to precipitate matters with Editha, he once more
retraced his steps to the parlour.

Ringing the bell, he ordered the servant who answered
the summons to inquire whether Editha was coming down
to supper; and the response was to the effect that the count-
ess had supped at Lady Lechmere's, but would join his
lordship in a few minutes.

The nobleman therefore sat down to the repast, and his
wife presently made her appearance, laughing and in the
best possible humour.

" My dear Charles," she said, tapping him playfully upon
the cheek as she passed behind him to take a chair, " you
must have thought it very strange, very rude, and very un-
kind in me to hasten away so abruptly when you. spoke to me
in the hall as I came from the carriage; but I was labouring
under a cruel misconception at the time. In fact, I heard it
whispered at Lady Lechmere's, about nine o'clock, that you
had just been seen at the Hay market Theatre in company
with a female of notorious profligacy. You may therefore
conceive how annoyed I was. But I have just learned that
you have been at home all the evening and therefore the
accusation must have arisen in sheer wickedness or down-
right error."

32 THE COURT OF LONDON

" But who could possibly have told you such a thing? "
demanded the earl, with mingled astonishment and indig-
nation.

" Now I am not going to get you into a quarrel with any
one/' replied Editha, in the softest tone and the most
caressing manner. " Besides, it was an elderly lady whom
I overheard mentioning the circumstance to another an-
tiquated gossip, and it was not intended for my ears. So
you must ask me nothing more upon the subject. Suffice
it to say that the imputation was a calumny."

" But if I had found Leveson at home and had remained
to pass the evening with him," said Lord Curzon, " you
would have believed the tale and fancied that I was really at
the Hay market with a bad woman? "

" The affair would certainly have looked suspicious,"
observed Editha; " but it only proves that we should never
be hasty in judging from appearances."

" True," exclaimed the earl, struck by the observation.
Then, after a few minutes' pause, during which he drank
a glass of wine, he said, "It is a pity that husbands and
wives ever keep any secrets from each other; the habit
breeds distrust, and distrust embitters their existence."

" Are you going to turn over a new leaf? " inquired the
countess, laughing gaily. " Your whole manner, conduct, and
language to-day induce me to think so."

" But if I have my secrets from you, Editha," said the
earl, attentively watching her countenance as he spoke,
" have you none which you keep from me? "

" None, that may properly be called secrets," she replied,
apparently with the utmost sincerity; and therefore the
reader will perceive that she was as thorough a proficient
in the arts of hypocrisy as we have already described her.

" I am glad of it, my love," exclaimed the earl, completely
staggered by the candour of her response and the ingenuous-
ness of her looks; and again he reflected upon her observa-
tion relative to the imprudence of judging rashly by ap-
pearances.

CHAPTER IV

*

THE CHANDLER'S SHOP

MUTTON HILL is a small section of that large and loath-
some neighbourhood which lies immediately behind the
Sessions House on Clerkenwell Green. At the period of
which we are writing, as well as at the present day, it con-
sisted principally of second-hand furniture warehouses, old-
clothes' emporiums, and shops devoted to the sale of sweet
stuff, chandlery, shell-fish, coals and potatoes, and cheap
crockery.

The chandler's shop requires especial attention. It was
small, dingy in outward appearance,- and gloomy-looking
internally. Over the door was painted, in little white
letters on a black ground, the name of William Taggarty;
and under this name, in smaller letters still, were the words,
" Licensed Dealer in Tea, Coffee, Tobacco, and Snuff."
The door which was half-glazed, usually stood open as long
as it was light; but when evening began to draw in, it was
closed, a tinkling bell being suspended above to give notice
of the entrance of a customer. On a shelf, or ledge, which
ran along the middle of the window, appeared an array of
small glasses, containing brandy-balls, peppermint-sticks,
bull's-eyes, hardbake, acid drops, barley-sugar, candy,
horehound, lollipops, and other sweets of the same school
of confectionery. On the board in the lower part of the
window appeared bundles of fire-wood, Flanders' bricks,
red herrings, a basket of eggs, a huge piece of Cheshire
cheese, three or four ditto Glo'ster, some bottles of blacking,
five or six bars of yellow soap, a few loaves of bread, a piece
of bacon, a bladder of hog's lard, a box of " real Havanas "
made of cabbage leaves, some jars of pickles, and a small
box of starch. Suspended to the woodwork of the windows,

33

34 THE COURT OF LONDON

and dangling amidst the necessaries and luxuries just
enumerated, were divers bunches of candles, — sixes, eights,
middling tens, and farthing rushlights.

On the shelves behind the counter were a few canisters of
tea and coffee, some jars of snuff and tobacco, and a mis-
cellaneous assortment of tinder-boxes, tapes, laces, balls of
cotton and worsted, papers of pins and needles, brushes,
balls of twine, and " rounds " of matches with sharp yellow
points looking like the beaks of callow birds, — " lucifers "
not being invented in those times. The counter itself was
furnished with drawers containing sugars of divers descrip-
tions; and above it, to a horizontal beam, hung a further
supply of candles, forming a thick fringe of tallow. At one
end of the counter stood more loaves, a block of salt, a firkin
of butter, and a tin treacle-can. Against the wall rested
a nine-gallon cask of very small beer, with two or three
measures in readiness to serve out the poor thin fluid; and
in one corner of the shop was a group of mops, brooms, and
brushes. A nest of little drawers, with the labels thumbed
and fingered into perfect illegibility, but doubtless containing
pepper, mustard, spices, and such like articles, was discernible
in the other corner of this complete and interesting emporium
of commerce.

The sole proprietor of the establishment was Mr. William
Taggarty, as the name above the street door irrefragably
proved. But who was the happy owner of so compendious
an assortment of articles, or, as the brokers' advertisements
in newspapers would have described it, this snug concern?
We are bound, for truth's sake, to admit that the appellation
of Taggarty was merely an assumed one for convenience'
sake, and that the individual bearing it was none other than
the Kinchin-Grand alluded to by Jack the Foundling in his
conversation with Mr. Lawrence Sampson.

Behind the shop there was a small parlour, a very tiny
place, just capable of holding a little round table and three
chairs, and quite filled whenever those chairs were all
occupied. If we look into this parlour at about nine o'clock
in the evening, on the day after the occurrences chronicled
in the previous chapter, we shall find Mr. William Taggarty
seated in earnest conversation with Richard and Sarah
Melmoth.

These two last-mentioned individuals have already been

THE CHANDLER'S SHOP 35

described; it is therefore only necessary to observe that
Taggarty was a man about thirty-five years of age, thin,
with a sort of shopkeeper's stoop in his gait, and having a
certain greasy appearance, as if his head were constantly
coming in contact with the candles suspended over his
counter, and his hands were being incessantly wiped upon his
dingy apron.

Upon the little round table stood a bottle of gin and three
glasses; for Mr. Taggarty was regaling his visitors, while
discussing with them certain matters of importance.

" And so you are quite sure that Jack didn't peach agin
the Hangman? " said Taggarty, as he refilled the glasses.

" I'm certain he didn't," replied Dick Melmoth. " He
was staying with Larry Sampson at the time, as I've already
told you."

" Then the more likely that he did blab," observed Tag-
garty.

" How the devil could he, when I tell you that none of us
knowed anything about the matter until we saw it in the
papers on Tuesday morning? " exclaimed Dick Melmoth.
" Neither me or Sal was told of it beforehand, and there-
fore I'm sure Jack the Foundling wasn't. Mr. Coffin kept
it precious close to himself, and had no assistants except
the footman who was killed."

" Let me see," said Taggarty, in a musing tone, " it took
place on Sunday night."

" Yes, and this is Friday," remarked Melmoth. " Jack
the Foundling came home on Tuesday, as soon as he saw
the affair in the paper. He sneaked away unbeknown to
Larry Sampson; and the instant he came into the shop in
Fleet Lane, he burst out crying, saying to Sal and me,
' You don't think I had any hand in this? ' We knowed
what he meant, for we had just been reading the account in
the paper; and we told him at once that we didn't suspect
him. He seemed quite cheered by that assurance."

" Yes, that he did," exclaimed Sal. " I'm sure he had
nothing to do with it," and what with the effects of gin and
grief, she began to whimper.

" Well, it's a bad business," said Taggarty, shaking his
head. " And yet there's one consolation," he added, after
a pause.

" What's that? " demanded Sally Melmoth, eagerly.

36 THE COURT OF LONDON

" Why, that a man who is drowned can't be hanged/'
replied the chandler, very seriously.

" Ah! well, so it is," observed the woman, also shaking
her head. Then, having drained her glass, she continued,
in a whimpering tone, " Poor Daniel's gone for ever! Who'd
have thought that he was born to be drowned in the
Thames? I'm sure I shall never drink another drop of that
water as long as I live," she added; and thus speaking, she
held out her glass for Taggarty to refill it with gin.

" But who could have peached? " said this individual, as
he did the honours with the bottle. " You see that the
constables were concealed already in the house at Richmond."

" Perhaps the footman himself had either repented, or
else was a traitor all along," observed Dick Melmoth; " and
may be that Mr. Coffin meant to shoot him, though the papers
say he aimed the pistol at Larry Sampson."

" Well, that's likely enough," said Taggarty. " And now,
what are you going to do? Shall you keep the shop open
in Fleet Lane? "

" To be sure," replied Dick. " How the devil are we to
live unless we do? "

" Ah! that's right," said Taggarty. " Don't go back to
your old practices, unless it is in a quiet way; but, at all
events, keep the shop as a blind. Look at me, my dear
friends, I'm getting on well, and without no danger too.
I keep my hands from wrongfully prigging; but if a feller
brings in a cheese to sell, or a ham, or a bit of bacon, or what
not, I don't ask any questions, but give him a trifle for the
goods. He may have filched them, but no one can bring the
thing home to me. Ah! them was rum times when we was
all together at the Kinchin-Ken in Grub Street, and when
the poor Shickster was alive. Wouldn't she have been proud
to serve behind that there counter in such a snug concern
as this?" added the chandler, jerking his thumb over his
shoulder in the direction of the shop.

" Well, it is a nice place, so compact," observed Dick
Melmoth, glancing around from the parlour toward the
magazine of miscellaneous goods.

" By the bye," said Taggarty, " you haven't told me
how Jack the Foundling was treated at Larry Sampson's."

" Oh, like a prince," answered Dick. " He says that he
feels all manner of kind and grateful things toward Mr.

THE CHANDLER'S SHOP 37

Sampson, and he was sorry to be compelled to leave him.
But he couldn't stay after the business down at Richmond.
He says that he knows Mr. Sampson only performed his
duty in that respect; but still he had not the heart to remain
with the man who may be said to be the cause of poor
Coffin's death.

" Of course," observed Taggarty. " For if Sampson and
his people hadn't been planted there, the Hangman wouldn't
have run off and been drowned in the river. That's quite
clear."

" Quite clear indeed," whimpered Sally Melmoth, again
seeking consolation in the gin.

At this moment the shop-bell tinkled as the glazed door
was opened by some one entering the place; and Taggarty,
observing that it was no doubt some customer, hastened
from the parlour, closing the door behind him. Immediately
afterward, Dick and Sally Melmoth heard the outer door
shut again also; then an ejaculation of amazement, bursting
from Taggarty's lips, met their ears, and this was followed
by some hurried and subdued whispering between that
individual and the person who had just entered the shop.

" Something's going on," said Dick Melmoth, in a low
voice, to his sister.

But before the woman could make any reply, Taggarty
reappeared, followed by a man so muffled up in a great thick
coat, a shawl neckerchief, and a slouched hat, that he was
not immediately recognizable. But a presentiment of the
truth flashed to the mind of Sally Melmoth; and starting at
once from her seat, she exclaimed, " It's Daniel! "

" Yes, it's me safe enough," said the Hangman, in a surly
tone, as he laid aside his hat and shawl neckerchief; then
having submitted somewhat impatiently to the caresses of
his paramour, who was quite maudlin with strong drink,
and after shaking Dick Melmoth by the hand, he sat down
between the astonished pair.

Taggarty hastened to bolt the street door; then, return-
ing into the parlour, he poured out a tumblerful of gin,
which he handed to Coffin, who at once partook of a deep
draught.

" Well, I suppose you're rather surprised to see me," said
the Hangman, gasping with the effects of the potent fluid
which for nearly a minute took away his breath. " No doubt

38 THE COURT OF LONDON

you thought I was dead and gone? I've seen the news-
papers, and find that the belief is I was drowned. Well,
so much the better. But it's a precious bad job, after all."

" Bad indeed," observed Sal. " I suppose you won't be
able to come home again in a hurry? "

tl I don't see how the deuce I'm ever to come home again
at all," replied the Hangman, his countenance assuming an
expression of diabolical ferocity, as if he thought the whole
world had turned against him. " There's only two chances
for me, and they're not likely to come about."

" What are they? " inquired the Melmoths, speaking, as
it were, in the same breath.

" Why, one is the death of Larry Sampson," answered
Coffin; " because if he was out of the way, the other con-
stables could be easily bought over to say they couldn't
identify me as the burglar. I know 'em all well enough
to be aware of what a ten-pound note would do with
each."

" And what is the other chance? " inquired Taggarty.

" Why, if there's somebody to be hung and no one to hang
him, some fine morning," returned Coffin, " a free pardon
for any past offences would be offered to the individual that
would take the place of the executioner; and then I might
come forward and step easy enough into my old berth. Those
are the two chances; but they're far away off at present,
and no mistake."

" Less probable things have come about," observed
Taggarty.

" Well, we shall see," said Coffin. " Where's Jack? " he
demanded, abruptly.

" At home again," answered Dick. " You don't suspect
him at all? "

" Not a bit of it," rejoined the Hangman. " He wasn't
aware that such a thing was in contemplation at Richmond
at all. But I can guess how it was. Me and the footman —
poor fellow! — was foolish enough to discuss our plans one
night last week in a tap-room at Richmond, where a country
bumpkin was getting his supper. We thought he went to
sleep after he'd gorged himself with bread and cheese; but
he must have shammed, and so overheard what we said. It
was infernally stupid on our part; it's cost the poor devil of
a footman his life, and made me a sort of exile and wanderer

THE CHANDLER'S SHOP 39

like Cain. Perdition take the whole business! " added
Daniel, with savage earnestness.

" But what have you been doing all this time? " asked
Dick Melmoth; " and how did you manage to escape
drowning? "

" Oh, the tide carried me ashore a little way lower down
than where I jumped in," responded Coffin; " and then I
cut across to Beechey Manor, — you know the place," he
observed, with a significant glance at Dick Melmoth. " There
I've been hiding until now; but I got so deuced tired of
living cooped up in a small bedroom, and the two old serv-
ants have shown so much uneasiness at my presence, that
I could endure it all no longer. So I got this thick coat, this
broad-brimmed hat, and that shawl neckerchief of the old
fellow, and resolved to come and pay my friend Bill Taggarty
a visit. If you two hadn't been here by accident, I should
have got Bill to run down to Fleet Lane and fetch you up
to meet me. So now you know all about it."

" But what are you going to do, and where do you mean
to live? " asked Sally Melmoth.

" Well, I haven't exactly made up my mind, " returned
Coffin. " You must continue at the shop, and let people
fancy you still believe me to have been drowned. I have
got plenty of blunt, that's one good thing; and it's fortunate
it was all in gold, or else the soaking I enjoyed in the Thames
would have spoilt flimsy-notes beyond all redemption. Per-
haps I shall stay with Bill Taggarty for a time; he's all alone
in this house — ain't you, Bill? "

" Yes, I'm all alone," was the chandler's response; but
it was given with an evident aversion to the proposed so-
journ of the Hangman at his house.

" Or else I shall go over to BenculFs crib at the Folly
Bridges," continued the Hangman, not choosing to observe
the disinclination of Bill Taggarty to harbour him as a
guest.

" Hark! " said the chandler, abruptly; " there's a knock
at the street door."

" And rather an impatient one, too," added Daniel Coffin,
rising from his seat with evident trepidation. " I mustn't
be seen here by anybody, Bill, you know."

" Then just step up-stairs along with Sal and Dick," said
Taggarty, opening a door and thus disclosing a flight of

40 THE COURT OF LONDON

narrow steps formed, as it were, in a recess. " It may be
some one that I must see, and you'll be more quiet up in my
bedroom."

The Hangman took up his hat and neckerchief, Sally
Melmoth possessed herself of the gin, and Dick laid hands
on the glasses; they then all three hastened up-stairs,
Taggarty shutting the door behind them. He then proceeded
to open the shop door, and the rays of the candle which he
held in his hand fell full upon the countenance of Mr. Larry
Sampson.

The first and most natural thought which instantaneously
flashed to the mind of Taggarty was that the Bow Street
officer had traced the Hangman thither and was come to
arrest him; and the chandler's looks accordingly grew
troubled, for he felt that he was suddenly involved in no
small danger for harbouring the delinquent.

" Good evening, Mr. Taggarty," said Sampson, in his
usual quiet manner, and not appearing to notice the con-
fusion of the chandler. " I want to have a little conversa-
tion with you if you are disengaged."

" With me, sir? " exclaimed Taggarty, flinging a rapid
glance into the street and experiencing some relief on ob-
serving that the officer was apparently alone, or at all events
had not a posse of constables at his back. " With me, sir? "
he repeated, in a less incoherent manner.

" Yes, upon no professional business, however," replied
Larry, emphatically; for he failed not to observe that his
presence was very far from welcome.

" Walk in, sir, walk in," said Taggarty, endeavouring to
look as composed and unconcerned as possible; and, having
shut and bolted the door again, he conducted the officer
into his little parlour. " Pray sit down, Mr. Sampson; let
me take your hat; there, make yourself at home, sir. And
now, shall it be gin, rum, or brandy? "

" Neither, thank you, Mr. Taggarty," was the response.
" I hope I am not intruding upon you at this moment, but
you appear to be all alone."

" Oh, yes, quite alone, Mr. Sampson," replied the chandler,
but with just a sufficiency of lingering uneasiness to throw
some doubt upon the assertion; and as he glanced mechanic-
ally toward the door of the staircase, Sampson at once per-
ceived that, although the chandler might have been alone

THE CHANDLER'S SHOP 41

in that room, he assuredly was not alone in the house pre-
vious to his (the officer's) arrival.

" I want to speak to you upon a very particular and im-
portant matter," said Larry, in a low and confidential tone,
— "a matter which, if you can serve me in it, will put a
hundred guineas into your pocket."

Taggarty instantaneously thought within himself that
Sampson wanted him to betray Daniel Coffin into his hands;
and his mind was at once made up not to have anything to do
with an affair that would inevitably bring all the Hangman's
confederates and accomplices, from every part of London,
like a hornets' nest, about his ears. He accordingly said,
" If it's any dirty work, Mr. Sampson, I sha'n't do it."

" I do not think you will look upon it as dirty work at all,"
responded the officer, still speaking in a low and guarded
tone. " But tell me frankly whether we can converse in this
room without the chance of being overheard."

" Well, there's a young 'oman of my acquaintance up-
stairs, doing out the bedchamber," answered Taggarty,
" and if she listens, she may overhear us."

" Then will you step around with me to the nearest public-
house? " asked Sampson.

" The truth is, I am expecting a friend or two," replied
the chandler, " and I can't very well leave. But just say
in a whisper what the business is about."

" It is relative to a lad called Jack the Foundling," rejoined
the officer, looking Taggarty very hard in the face.

" And what about him? " asked the latter, eagerly.

" That is just the question which I am going to put to you,"
said Larry. " Now, I want to ascertain all the particulars
I can possibly glean concerning the infancy of that lad; and
if you will assist me, there are a hundred guineas in my
pocket at your service."

" A hundred guineas? " repeated Taggarty, his eyes
brightening. " I must sell a great many pen'norths of tea
and slices of cheese to scrape that sum together. Well, sir,
what is it you wish to know? " he asked, in a very subdued
voice.

" I am already aware," responded Larry, " that a great
mystery envelops the birth of the lad. He was either
found or stolen; and it was a boy called James Melmoth
who took him, when a babe, to the den in Grub Street,

42 THE COURT OF LONDON

whence you have derived your nickname of the Kinchin-
Grand. I also know that the present Richard and Sarah
Melmoth, who have been living with the deceased Daniel
Coffin, are the brother and sister of that James Melmoth of
whom I have spoken, but who has long been dead. I am
moreover aware that your late mistress, Shickster Sal,
brought up the Foundling."

" Then, if you know all this, Mr. Sampson," said Taggarty,
" what more can you expect to glean from me? " and the
chandler now felt easier in his mind, because he saw, from
an observation just made by Larry, that he really supposed
the Hangman to have been drowned, and that consequently
his visit to Mutton Hill at such a moment was purely an
accidental coincidence.

" I expect to glean from you any additional information
which you may be enabled to impart," said Sampson.
" In the first place, endeavour to recollect the precise date
on which the babe was brought to the Kinchin-Ken in Grub
Street."

" It was the 1st of June, 1795," answered Taggarty.

" How do you recollect the date so well? " inquired Larry
Sampson.

" Because I remember that it was the day before James
Melmoth's father murdered Sir Richard Stamford in Windsor
Park, and then blew out his own brains," was Taggarty 's
response.

" It was not known for some time afterward that the
assassin of the baronet was the same wretched man whose
previous enormities had so horrified the metropolis."

" But I knew it was the same man," observed Taggarty,
in a scarcely audible whisper, " because his son, young
James, told me so at the time. Afterward I mentioned the
circumstance to my pals, it got talked about, and this was
the way the public at length knew that James Melmoth,
senior, was the assassin of Sir Richard Stamford."

" Now, was not the babe stolen by that man and his
son James? " asked Sampson.

" He was," replied Taggarty. " I don't see any harm
in telling you the real truth now."

" Certainly not. And it was in Hyde Park that the babe
was thus stolen? "

" It was. But you seem to know all about it," said the

THE CHANDLER'S SHOP 43

chandler, in surprise. " Yet I do not see how you can
possibly have learned this; for I have never divulged the
secret until now. Neither Dick nor Sal Melmoth knew so
much about the business. They were children at the time
it happened; but their eldest brother James made me his
confidant to a certain extent."

" Did he tell you whose child it was? " asked Sampson.

" No. He had sworn a most solemn oath to his father
not to reveal the secret of the child's parentage until it
was at least twelve years of age."

" Do you know why the Melmoths stole the child? "
demanded Larry.

" Because they had some dreadful spite against its parents,
I believe. But you are perhaps aware that young James
Melmoth died a violent death within a few days after his
father's suicide; and thus in the interval he had not much
leisure to be overcommunicative with me."

" Is this all you know? " inquired Larry Sampson. Then,
seeing that Taggarty hesitated, he produced a bag of gold
and counted down a hundred guineas upon the table,
saying, " If you can give me any further proofs relative
to the circumstances of which we have been speaking, this
sum is yours."

" Stop a moment," observed Taggarty. " If the Foundling
should turn out to be the son of wealthy or great folks, how
do I know but what I shall get into trouble for having
been a sort of accessory to the harbouring of him after he
was stolen? "

" I will give you a written guarantee that no harm shall
befall you," replied Sampson.

" Your word will do, sir," rejoined the chandler. " And
now I will fetch you the only proofs that I can put into
your hands, but they will no doubt be found convincing
enough."

Having thus spoken, Taggarty rose and ascended the
staircase, shutting the door carefully behind him. On
entering the bed-room up-stairs, he found the Hangman,
Dick Melmoth, and Sally engaged in earnest conversation
together upon their future plans and proceedings under
existing circumstances; but they were all astounded and
alarmed when the chandler informed them that his guest
was none other than the terrible Lawrence Sampson.

44 THE COURT OF LONDON

In a few hurried words, however, and in a whispered tone,
Taggarty explained to them the object of the officer's visit,
whereat they were profoundly surprised; but the chandler
did not vouchsafe to inform them that Sampson's liberality
had extended to a hundred guineas. He was afraid they
might claim shares, the matter having reference to the
Foundling, in whom they were all interested. He therefore
coolly and quietly suppressed an 0, thus reducing the reward
from 100 guineas to 10 guineas.

Having given these few hurried explanations, he unlocked
a drawer, took out a brown-paper parcel, and was about
to descend to the parlour again when Daniel Coffin clutched
him abruptly by the arm, saying, in a hollow whisper,
" Bill, are you man enough to do me a service? "

" What do you want? " asked Taggarty, recoiling, with
an instinctive shudder; for the Hangman's meaning flashed
in a moment to his comprehension.

" Larry Sampson is below," replied Coffin, " and those
who might have seen him come in won't be waiting to
observe if he ever goes out again," he added, with a look
of diabolical significancy.

" No, no, I couldn't do it, Dan'el, I couldn't do it,"
answered Taggarty, his countenance becoming pale as
death, and his knees trembling under him.

" Coward! " ejaculated the Hangman, with bitter ferocity,
as he pushed the chandler away from him. Then, instantly
observing the malignant expression of vindictiveness which
appeared upon Taggarty's countenance, he said, " Come,
don't be angry, Bill, I didn't mean it. But you must make
allowances for one placed in such an infernal predicament
as I am."

" Yes, pray don't think any more of it, Bill," said Sally
Melmoth, in a tone of earnest entreaty; and Dick also
endeavoured to propitiate the chandler.

" You needn't suppose I should betray you, Dan'el,"
observed Taggarty.

" But will you help me to — to —

" To make away with Larry Sampson? No! "

And with this emphatic reply, the chandler quitted the
room.

Descending to the parlour, he again carefully closed the
door of the staircase behind him, and resuming his seat,

THE CHANDLER'S SHOP 45

he opened the brown-paper parcel. But his hands trembled
visibly, and his cheeks were also still pale and ghastly from
the mingled sensations excited by the scene that had just
occurred in the bedchamber above. Larry Sampson, upon
whose keenness even the least perceptible emotion was
never lost, could not fail to observe an agitation so marked
as this; but he affected not to notice it, while all the time
he was wondering what could have produced such an
impression upon the Kinchin-Grand, and who the person
or persons might be that had so produced it.

" What have you got there, Taggarty? " he inquired.

" The clothes the Foundling had on the day he was
stolen and brought to the Kinchin-Ken in Grub Street,"
was the answer. Then, as Taggarty proceeded to open
the parcel and display its contents, he said, " Here's the
hat and feathers, the little frock, all covered with neat
braiding, somewhat faded now notwithstanding, and here's
the petticoats, the little socks, and the tiny shoes. I've
always kept them things by me through every wicissitude;
for somehow or another I thought they'd be of service sooner
or later."

" You have acted well and wisely," said the officer. " Take
the hundred guineas, and I shall keep these things. I
suppose you meant me to do so? "

" By all manner of means," replied Taggarty, as he tied
up the parcel again. " And now, Mr. Sampson, won't
you take a drop of summut short? "

" I would much rather not, thank you," returned Larry.
" Good night."

The chandler, having hastily gathered up the money and
consigned the coin to his pocket, proceeded to unfasten the
shop door to let Mr. Sampson out; and as soon as the officer
disappeared, he shut and bolted it again.

But Larry did not immediately quit the neighbourhood.
He was resolved to wait and see who the person or persons
might be that were secreted in Mr. Taggarty's upper room.
His mode of action was decisively determined on, and
promptly carried into execution. Entering the shop of an
old-clothes dealer, to whom he was well known, he remained
there only five minutes, and issued forth again completely
metamorphosed from head to foot. In fact, he was ap-
parelled as an old woman, with a dark brown cloak, and the

46 THE COURT OF LONDON

hood drawn over his countenance, which was further shaded
by a dingy cap having an enormous frill. He carried a
bundle of matches in his hand, and in this disguise posted
himself exactly opposite the door of the chandler's shop.

Nearly an hour passed, and no one came forth. But
several halfpence were thrust into Sampson's hand by poor
working men and their wives returning home, and who took
him to be an aged beggar-woman. He was sorry thus to
receive the donations of humble charity; but he could not
refuse them, for fear of exciting suspicion and perhaps
leading to detection and disturbance.

Time passed on, midnight was proclaimed by the iron
tongue of Clerkenwell Church, and still Larry stayed at his
post. He would have remained there till morning if neces-
sary; but observing no lights in Taggarty's bedroom, he
felt assured that the chandler had not as yet retired to rest.
Presently the shop door opened, and Taggarty himself
appeared upon the threshold, looking anxiously up and
down. Sampson, in a whining voice, besought charity;
but the chandler, taking no heed of the prayer, retired into
the shop. Immediately afterward a woman came forth as
far as the threshold, and also looked intently up and down
the narrow street. A light from an opposite window gleamed
upon her countenance, and Sampson had no difficulty in
recognizing Sally Melmoth.

She retired into the shop, the door of which still remained
open; and in a few minutes Dick Melmoth, whom Larry
also recognized, came forward with the evident object of
ascertaining if the coast was clear. Sampson saw that
something strange was going on; but of what it was he had
not the most distant suspicion. He nevertheless determined
to ascertain the point, if possible, and was rejoiced that he
had thus kept watch upon the chandler's premises.

Dick Melmoth having retired again as the others had
done, there was another pause in the proceedings ; and then,
at the expiration of about two minutes, a man hurried forth
and sped down the hill toward the Sessions House. He was
muffled in a great thick coat, wore a broad-brimmed hat,
much slouched over his features, and all the lower part of
his face was concealed in a thick shawl neckerchief.

" Do, dear sir, for the love of Heaven, bestow your
charity on a poor old woman, " said Larry Sampson, with

THE CHANDLER'S SHOP 47

the piteous whine of mendicancy, as he passed close up to
the side of the man.

" Get out, you old crone! " growled the fellow, his eyes
glaring savagely from beneath the broad-brimmed hat;
and, thus speaking, he bolted around the corner, passed
behind the Sessions House, and gained Turnmill Street.

For the first time in his life Larry Sampson was thrown
quite aback for the moment. His purpose was so far
answered that he had succeeded in catching a glimpse of
the man's features; but his amazement may be understood
when he found that the muffled individual was none other
than Daniel Coffin the Hangman. The unmistakable tone
of the voice simultaneously confirmed the fact; and if
further proof were wanting, it was at once seen in the
circumstance that Dick and Sally Melmoth were at Tag-
garty's when he issued forth, and that such care had been
taken to ascertain that the coast was clear for his exit
thence.

Speedily recovering his self-possession, however, Larry
Sampson instantaneously revolved in his mind the diffi-
culties of his position. His first impulse was to fling off the
old woman's garb and hasten in pursuit; but a rescue was
certain to be effected in that vile neighbourhood the instant
the alarm of " an officer " should be raised. Moreover, the
disguise would be found, Coffin would hear of it and suspect
who the old beggar-woman was, and, perceiving that his
existence was known, he would either double his precautions
against discovery, or else leave the country. On the other
hand, to retain the disguise and pursue him in it would
only be to attract certain attention, without frustrating
the chances of Coffin's rescue or escape. Sampson therefore
retraced his way to his friend the old-clothes dealer, laid
aside the cloak and cap, and proceeded homeward, with the
intention of losing no time in setting a watch upon all the
places and neighbourhoods where the Hangman was likely
to conceal himself.

CHAPTER V

THE JOURNEY TO PARIS

LET us now return to Agatha, Emma, and Julia Owen,
who had embarked at Woolwich on board a revenue cruiser,
to be conveyed to France. They were attended by an
elderly gentlewoman who served as a sort of duenna, or
guardian, and who had long been intimate with Mrs. Owen,
the young ladies' delectable mother. She was a widow,
her name was Ranger, and, having no ostensible means
of income, was very glad to make money by any means,
no matter what intrigue or machination might be involved
in the service entrusted to her.

She was not, however, entirely in the secret of the young
ladies' mission to the Continent. She knew that they were
to enter the household of the Princess of Wales; she was
likewise well aware that the royal princes had for some
time past been frequent visitors at the mansion at Rich-
mond; and her idea of female virtue was not of such an
exalted character as to induce her to suppose that a mere
platonic friendship had subsisted between the Misses Owen
and the voluptuary sons of George III. The construction
she therefore put upon the matter was that the young
ladies, having bestowed their favours upon the princes,
were rewarded by obtaining, through their indirect influence
and recommendations, lucrative posts in the household of
the Princess of Wales.

Mrs. Ranger herself was the most plausible woman in
existence, though in reality a perfect Hecate of iniquity.
She was indeed ten thousand times worse than Mrs. Owen
suspected her to be. This lady fancied that she was merely
an astute, clever, and shrewd woman, not overparticular
how she made money nor in what service she was enlisted,

48

THE JOURNEY TO PARIS 49

but fully trustworthy by an employer; whereas Mrs. Ranger
was in reality a thoroughly unprincipled, artful, and aban-
doned wretch, capable of selling the charms and making a
market of the young girls confided to her care. She had
smiled inwardly when Mrs. Owen, on giving her last
instructions, had enjoined her to keep a careful watch
over the virtue of her daughters; but externally she
had assumed a matronly and duenna-like air, confirming
with the most sacred assurances the impression which
this staid and cautious aspect had left upon the mother's
mind.

Her personal appearance was as false as her mind. She
used cosmetics with so elaborate a skill and so ingeniously
supplied the faded charms and wrinkled deformities of
nature with the succedaneous remedies of art, that her
withered form assumed a buxom shape and her countenance
bore a richer bloom than ever had clothed it even in the
springtide of her youth. She was midway between fifty
and sixty; but what with false hair, false teeth, and the
various artificial appliances alluded to, she managed to
pass herself off as at least ten years younger.

It will be remembered that Mary Owen had withdrawn
herself from any further share in the secret conspiracy
hatched under royal auspices against the honour, happiness,
and even life of the Princess Caroline of Wales. Agatha,
Emma, and Julia accordingly embarked without their
youngest sister at Woolwich, under the protection of Mrs.
Ranger. As a matter of course, they were accompanied by
no end of trunks, bandboxes, and packages, for, as the
reader has already been informed, large sums were expended
in giving the young ladies a handsome equipment for their
new career. A government vessel had been appointed to
convey them to Calais, — for the power of steam was not
in those days applied to navigation, and the ordinary
means of reaching the Continent was by sailing-packet or
hoy from Dover.

We should here pause for a moment to observe that this
was the epoch of Napoleon's memorable abdication of the
imperial dignity in France, and his retreat to the little
sovereignty of Elba. Louis XVIII had been restored to
his throne, an infamous Bourbon being thus given back
to France; peace prevailed in Europe, and numerous English

50 THE COURT OF LONDON

tourists were taking advantage of the cessation of hostilities
to visit the Continental countries.

The voyage from Woolwich to Calais was performed in
about thirty hours, with a calm sea, but a wind not altogether
favourable. Mrs. Ranger was so ill, notwithstanding the
smoothness of the passage, as to be compelled to keep her
berth the whole time; but during daylight the three sisters
remained upon the deck, conversing gaily and affably with
the officers belonging to the vessel. On arriving at Dessin's
hotel at Calais, the party was compelled to make a halt
for a couple of days in order to enable Mrs. Ranger to recruit
herself thoroughly ere she entered upon the formidable
task of posting to Paris.

It was on a Wednesday afternoon that the Misses Owen
and their duenna embarked at Woolwich; it was on the
Thursday evening that they reached Calais, and it was not
until Sunday morning that they proposed to resume their
journey. Now, if the reader will refer to earlier chapters,
he will find that it was on the Friday Jocelyn Loftus bade
adieu to Louisa, with whom Mary Owen remained, at
Canterbury; and we must add that it was on the Saturday
that, having crossed in the sailing-packet from Dover to
Calais, he also took up his quarters at Dessin's hotel.

We must remind our reader that this amiable, intelligent,
and excellent young gentleman, ere setting out on his
chivalrous enterprise, had pledged himself to Mary Owen
not only to compromise her sisters as little as might be in
the task he had undertaken, but also to use every attempt
to persuade them to withdraw from the execrable service
in which they were engaged. It was therefore his settled
intention, on setting out upon his journey, to overtake them
as speedily as possible, endeavour to form their acquaintance,
and become their travelling-companion if opportunity
should serve. For the further development of his plans he
naturally trusted to circumstances and to the chapter of
accidents; but he was resolved to leave no stone unturned
in order to rescue the Misses Owen from the abhorrent
influences that now ruled their career, or, at all events,
warn the Princess of Wales of the snakelike perils and
insidious snares that were scattered in her path.

On arriving at Dessin's hotel late on Saturday evening,
and on making inquiries of the waiter as to whether certain

THE JOURNEY TO PARIS 51

ladies had passed that way within the last day or two,
Jocelyn was well pleased to learn that they were actually at
the moment beneath the same roof. He also ascertained
that they were to leave in a post-chaise on the following
morning for Paris. He then asked whether he also could be
accommodated with a travelling chariot at about the same
hour; but he learned to his mortification that in consequence
of the great influx of English visitors during the week, every
disposable chaise and carriage in the town had been put
into requisition, and that the one kept for Mrs. Ranger and
the Misses Owen was the very last which could be obtained.
There was, however, the chance of return-carriages arriving;
and the waiter confidently promised one for the Monday.

Jocelyn, however, assured him that it was of the highest
importance for him not only to depart on the following
morning, but also to travel on to Paris without delay, and
hence his desire to obtain a post-chaise instead of proceeding
by the diligence, or stage-coach. The waiter looked at
the young gentleman very attentively; and suspecting
that he wished to become the travelling-companion of the
ladies, he adroitly hinted that such was his belief. This
hint was given with the unmistakable manner of one who
indirectly and covertly proffers his assistance to forward
the design into which he penetrates; and Jocelyn, knowing
the readiness of waiters in general, and French ones in
particular, to perform such little services, at once said to
the man, " Ten louis shall be your reward if you can induce
those ladies of whom we have been speaking to accommodate
me with a seat in their post-chaise."

The waiter spoke not a word, but with a significant look
quitted the apartment. It was time to serve the ladies'
supper; and as he attended upon them at the repast, Mrs.
Ranger enjoined him to have the chaise in readiness at nine
in the morning. He promised due observance of her com-
mand; and as she spoke French with fluency, — as indeed
did Agatha, Emma, and Julia, — she made many inquiries
about the condition of the roads, the probable state of the
weather, the best hotels to stop at, and the chances of
travellers being assailed by robbers. The waiter responded
to all these queries satisfactorily enough, except the last;
and, with a considerable amount of apparent hesitation,
he observed that the recent disbanding of a large number

52 THE COURT OF LONDON

of the troops had thrown many desperate characters idle
upon the world, that there were certainly cases of travellers
being stopped, — he was not even sure but that the outrages
sometime occurred in the broad daylight, — and that, at all
events, it was much safer and more prudent for ladies to
journey with a male protector.

These remarks, cunningly dropped, and instilling fear
rather by innuendo than positive averments, produced
the desired effect upon the ladies. Mrs. Ranger declared
that she would much prefer the diligence to a post-chaise;
Agatha would not hear of the stage-coach, but regretted
that " mamma " had not provided them with a male attend-
ant; Emma sided with Mrs. Ranger relative to the pro-
priety of travelling by the diligence; and Julia at once
expressed a wish that they were acquainted with some
gentleman who could accompany them. It was now that
the waiter, as if struck by a sudden recollection, " took
the liberty of observing that there was an English gentleman
at that moment in the hotel, who was most anxious to travel
post to Paris, but who could not obtain a conveyance; "
and then, as if quite in a style of indifferent comment, the
astute gar con continued to remark that " the young gentle-
man was certainly the handsomest, most agreeable, and
most fascinating specimen of English travellers that had
visited the hotel since the peace."

All this was quite enough to enlist the interest of the
ladies on behalf of one who was so much pressed for the
means of rapid conveyance to Paris; and, moreover, they
wanted a travelling-companion. Julia thought there could
be no harm in offering their fellow countryman a seat in
their chaise; Emma expressed her opinion that it would be
rude not to do so; and Agatha still more emphatically
insisted upon the propriety of asking him to join their
party. Mrs. Ranger, said, in a bland tone, that she saw
no objection, provided he was a real gentleman; and the
waiter's guarantee being taken in this respect, the said
waiter was duly and formally charged to conduct the
negotiation.

Accordingly, this important plenipotentiary, doubtless
fancying himself no mean imitation of the astute diplomatist
Talleyrand, returned to Jocelyn's sitting-room; and the
moment he made his appearance, his looks proclaimed the

THE JOURNEY TO PARIS 53

success of his enterprise. Loftus was well pleased thereat,
and cheerfully paid the promised fee of ten louis, which the
waiter still more joyfully consigned to his pocket.

Jocelyn then retired to his bedchamber, and soon fell
asleep, to dream of his beloved and lovely Louisa; while,
on the other hand, Mrs. Ranger and her three fair charges
sought their own apartments, well pleased with the prospect
of an agreeable travelling-companion during their journey
to Paris.

On the following morning Mr. Loftus received an invita-
tion to breakfast with the ladies; and he was forthwith
conducted to the room in which they were assembled. At
the first glance which he threw upon Agatha, Emma, and
Julia, the sentiment of mingled pity and indignation was
deepened in his soul to think that such beautiful creatures
should have become entangled in such detestable intrigues.
He was, however, far from suspecting that beneath the air
of lively, good-tempered artlessness which was natural to
them, and which corrupting influences had not as yet
materially impaired, there lurked all the nascent tendencies
and inclinations toward that thorough depravity which
the denizens of fashionable life are so skilled in veiling with
smiles, affability, and the glitter of fascinating manners, —
as the hideousness of a corpse may be concealed with flowers.
He believed them to be the unconscious and beguiled victims,
rather than the now willing instruments, of the vilest
machinations; and little suspecting that even their very
maiden virtue and personal chastity had been sacrificed
in the course of execrable training which they had under-
gone, he hoped to rescue them from the ways of intrigue
and dishonour, and render them worthy, as they were
certainly brilliant, members of society.

Such were the thoughts which swept through the mind
of Jocelyn Loftus on his introduction to the Misses Owen;
but as for Mrs. Ranger, he experienced a thorough and
unmitigated contempt for her ere he had been three minutes
in her society. Not that he at once saw into the depths
of her character; but he read enough, through the veil of
plausibility wherewith she invested her words and her
manners, to assure himself that she was false, hollow-
hearted, vain, and cunning. This feeling of dislike he
however studiously concealed; for it by no means suited

54 THE COURT OF LONDON

his purpose to make an enemy of that lady at the very
outset of their acquaintance.

The impression which his own appearance produced
upon the ladies was at once of the most favourable character.
His exceedingly handsome person, endowed with all the
beauty and graces of youthful manhood, his elegant man-
ners, the tones of his voice, and the unaffected yet fascinating
style of his conversation and choice of language, could not
fail to prove agreeable to an old coquette and three lively,
animated, and impassioned girls. He was accordingly
received with an evident welcome, whose warmth was only
subdued by that habit of external formality which was
rather practised from the ceremonial usages of drawing-
rooms than really felt in all its rigid reserve.

The conversation at the breakfast-table was sprightly
and sparkling; but the meal was somewhat hurried, as the
chaise was announced to be in readiness even before the
party sat down. Then came the hurry and bustle of the
preliminaries for departure; but as Jocelyn attended to
the disposal of the luggage, a world of trouble, as Mrs.
Ranger observed to the girls, was fortunately taken off
their hands.

French travelling-carriages, or berlines, are spacious and
commodious vehicles, containing six persons inside without
the necessity of much crowding. There was consequently
ample room for the whole party. Mrs. Ranger and Julia
occupied the back seat; Jocelyn was placed between the
two elder girls on the front one. He had Agatha on his
right hand, and Emma on his left; but though in such
charming contact, his heart wavered not in its allegiance
to the loved and absent Louisa, and he felt that it never
would. Much rather would he have been at this moment
with his betrothed; but he had undertaken a certain duty,
and his present position was only one of the inevitable
phases of that enterprise in which he had so generously and
chivalrously embarked.

The equipage rolled out of the courtyard of Dessin's
hotel, the drawbridge of the ramparts was crossed, and the
vehicle, drawn by four horses with two postilions, entered
on the broad road leading to Boulogne. Mrs. Ranger now
thought it high time to let Jocelyn know that her three fair
charges were proceeding to Italy in order to enter the service

THE JOURNEY TO PARIS 55

of the Princess of Wales; whereupon the young gentle-
man observed that he also was bound on a visit to the
same sunny clime, giving his hearers to understand that
his was a tour of recreation and pleasure, although in the
first instance he had some important business to transact in
Paris.

The eyes of the young ladies shone with unmistakable
joy when they thus heard that their new acquaintance was
proceeding all the way to Italy; and Mrs. Ranger inquired
how long he purposed to remain in the French capital. He
answered that a couple of days would suffice for the business
which he had to conclude in that city; whereupon Agatha
remarked how singular it was that they also intended to
limit their halt in Paris to an equally brief period. The
observation was too significant not to be seized upon as
available for Jocelyn's purpose; and he expressed a hope that
he might be permitted the honour of escorting the ladies
as far as their destination in Italy. The proposition was
received with many expressions of gratitude and much
evident delight; but Jocelyn was somewhat surprised, as
well as secretly vexed and annoyed, when he observed that
Agatha, the eldest sister, gazed upon him with a certain
subdued tenderness as she breathed her thanks for the
proposal he had just made.

He could not even help looking earnestly at her for a
moment in order to assure himself that he had rightly inter-
preted the meaning of her gaze; but as her eyes fell beneath
his own, and a fleeting blush appeared upon her cheeks, he
fancied that he must have been deceived, and regretted
having thus regarded her in a manner which she might
consider as savouring of rudeness or impertinence. But
as the conversation turned upon different topics, it became
clearly apparent that she had taken no offence; for she
treated Jocelyn with a friendly but well-bred courtesy, as
much as to imply that since it was agreed they were to be
travelling-companions on a very long journey, there was
no necessity to regard each other as the mere acquaintances
of a few hours. At least, such was the interpretation which
the young gentleman now put upon her demeanour, as well
as on the bearing of her two sisters and Mrs. Ranger; and
as it was his object to gain the good opinion and the con-
fidence of the three girls as speedily as was practicable

56 THE COURT OF LONDON

under the circumstances, he of course encouraged all their
friendly advances.

Thus by the time the party reached Boulogne to lunch,
the ladies were already on very good terms with their hand-
some travelling-companion; and when they stopped in
the evening to dine at Bernay, it would have seemed as if
they had been acquainted for a whole year instead of a
single day. Indeed Jocelyn was more than once inwardly
and secretly vexed at the somewhat meaning looks of
tenderness which Agatha cast upon him; but as those
sidelong and furtive glances were instantaneously with-
drawn when she saw that they were noticed, he tranquillized
himself with the hope that any feeling which the young lady
might have so suddenly conceived toward him would not
be conveyed by a more marked demonstration.

After dinner the journey was resumed toward Abbeville,
where it was proposed to rest for the night. The sun sank
into its western home, and obscurity veiled the road which
our travellers were pursuing. Mrs. Ranger got nervous
about robbers, upon the chances of an attack from whom
she would nevertheless persist in talking, while Julia,
already much wearied, dozed by her side. Jocelyn sus-
tained the conversation with the old lady and Emma; but
Agatha had gradually ceased to take part in the discourse,
and soon became altogether silent.

It was very dark inside the vehicle, and Jocelyn soon
experienced a new cause for annoyance. For while he was
endeavouring to reason Mrs. Ranger out of her fears, which,
whether affected or not, seemed to be augmenting, he
felt Agatha's head gently droop upon his shoulder. It was
true that she had on a plain travelling-bonnet, so that the
silk material alone came in contact with him; but still his
extreme sense of propriety made him shrink from anything
that appeared to approach an undue familiarity. He
nevertheless fancied that she must have fallen asleep, and
therefore had unconsciously lain her head upon his shoulder;
and as the circumstances of travelling may in such cases
somewhat mitigate the strict observances to be followed on
ordinary occasions, he made due allowances for the present
little incident and offered not to disturb his fair companion.

But in a few minutes he felt her head gradually moving;
then it became still again, and then she suddenly but noise-

THE JOURNEY TO PARIS 57

lessly turned in such a way that her cheek rested against
his own. He started, but not enough to compel her to shift
her position; and then astonished that she did not, he
gently drew back, so that while his face no longer touched
her own, her head nevertheless remained upon his shoulder.
Mrs. Ranger ceased talking at the moment, and he listened
attentively to ascertain whether Agatha was sleeping or not.
But her breath came not as from the lips of a sleeper; and
shocked at an occurrence which he was now forced to regard
as a deliberate, intended, and most indiscreet proceeding, if
not a positive overture, on her part, he drew still farther
aside. Agatha thereupon abruptly raised her head, and
gave vent to an ejaculation as if just awaking from a doze.

Jocelyn was now again bewildered, and in deep perplexity
what to think. After all, she might have really been sleep-
ing, though he fancied she was not; and, prompted by his
generous nature to put the most charitable construction
upon the deeds of his fellow creatures, — unwilling, more-
over, to be precipitate or rash in attributing aught savour-
ing of gross indelicacy to a young and gay-hearted girl, —
he brought his mind to settle the point in her favour.
Still, when he reflected upon all that Mary Owen had told
him, his misgivings were again aroused; and the painful
conviction was forced upon him that the training to which
the unfortunate sisters had been subjected by their un-
natural mother was indeed sufficient to destroy all their
moral principles, even if its effect had not as yet been to
ruin their chastity.

But while Jocelyn was thus painfully giving way to his
meditations, and almost regretting that he had joined the
company of the ladies, he soon became sensible of another
source of vexation. For be it observed that, in consequence
of occupying a place in the carriage between Agatha and
Emma, while he was withdrawing himself from the contact
of the former he was unconsciously pressing against the
latter. Then, as he drew more and more away from the
eldest sister in the manner already described, his pressure
against Emma became all the closer. This circumstance
he did not immediately perceive in the confusion of his
ideas; but to Emma that pressure appeared full of a tender
meaning. She felt his form coming in nearer contact with
her own, and a thrill of pleasure shot through her entire

58 THE COURT OF LONDON

frame. But still she stayed perfectly still, in a tantalizing
uncertainty as to whether the occurrence were accidental
or not. In a few moments the pressure against her grew
more apparently decisive, and the wanton blood now
coursed like lightning through Emma's veins. Jocelyn's
left arm pressed against her bosom, which heaved and swelled
to a contact which she believed was intentional; and with
a voluptuous ardour she pressed against him in return. At
that instant was it that Agatha raised her head and gave
vent to an ejaculation as if she were starting from a doze,
and then the pressure between Jocelyn and Emma suddenly
ceased.

But still the impression remained in Emma's mind that
the occurrence which had just taken place was deliberate
and intentional on Jocelyn's part, and she waited a few
minutes in the anxious hope that the presumed demonstra-
tion of tenderness would be continued. It was not, however,
for Agatha was now lounging back in her own corner, and
Loftus was no longer inconvenienced for room. Emma
therefore gently and gradually pressed toward him, now
pausing for the tacit response so anxiously awaited, then
pressing closer still, until the contours of her well-developed
bust heaved amorously against his arm. All in a moment
the truth flashed to Jocelyn's mind, once more he started
abruptly, and the second temptress as abruptly shrank
back into her own corner, complaining of the ruggedness of
the road and the jolting of the carriage.

Almost immediately afterward the vehicle entered Abbe-
ville; and in the bustle occasioned by the examination of
the passports at the town gates, the arrival at the hotel, the
handing the ladies out of the carriage, the duty of looking
after their luggage and his own, and then the task of giving
orders to the waiters, etc., in the excitement of these manifold
proceedings, we say, Jocelyn for the time lost sight of the
previous topic of his unpleasant meditations.

Almost immediately after their arrival at the inn, the
ladies withdrew to the chambers prepared for them, and
Loftus was equally ready to seek repose. Before he, however,
fell asleep, the behaviour of the two eldest Misses Owen
recurred to his memory; and it was while still perplexing
himself with arguments for and against a deliberate intention
on their part that slumber visited his eyes.

THE JOURNEY TO PARIS 59

When the travellers were reunited in the morning at the
breakfast-table, neither Agatha nor Emma appeared in
any way confused on meeting his looks, nor was their
behaviour at all changed toward him, unless indeed it were
that their tone and manner increased in friendliness. But
there was no evidence of humiliated feeling on their part,
as if they were conscious of having made overtures which
were met with a tacit rebuke.

The journey was resumed, Mrs. Ranger and the youngest
girl occupying the same seat as before, and Jocelyn being
again placed between the two eldest sisters, with their
backs to the horses. The young gentleman now endeavoured
to turn the conversation upon the Princess of Wales, observ-
ing how harshly she had been treated by her royal husband,
the prince regent, and regretting, if it were only for the sake
of their child, the Princess Charlotte, that they did not
effect a reconciliation and live together. But he found the
three sisters very guarded in their replies and still more
sparing in their comments, while Mrs. Ranger, who had
passed a bad night, dozed in her corner of the carriage. At
length Agatha, with an appearance of natural liveliness
and versatility of disposition, exclaimed, " Let us talk of
something else, for this is an old and hackneyed topic
amongst us," and Loftus was accordingly compelled to
turn the discourse into another channel.

He found the three sisters well informed, accomplished,
and intelligent; their good-humour was patent beyond
the possibility of affectation; they did not indulge in scandal,
nor frivolous disquisitions on dress, nor were they at all
vain of the intimacy which they had enjoyed with the royal
princes. They possessed many excellent qualities, it was
clear; but how far their morals had been depraved and
their principles undermined, Jocelyn trembled to conjecture.
When, however, he thought of the admirable purposes to
which their minds and their dispositions might have been
trained under proper tutelage, and when he reflected that
whatever might be their failings and faults, these poor girls
could scarcely be held responsible for them, his heart was
moved to the deepest commiseration, and he felt that it
would be a glorious triumph to rescue them from the evil
influences that were hurrying them on to destruction.
The party stopped to dine at Beauvais in the afternoon,

60 THE COURT OF LONDON

and in the evening at Beaumont, to take an early supper.
The journey was then speedily continued; and once more
did the shades of night envelop the landscape in obscurity,
and plunge the interior of the carriage into almost utter
darkness. Jocelyn actually drew himself into as small a
compass as possible, so as not to encroach in the slightest
degree upon the space allotted to his fair companions on the
same seat; but he soon became aware of certain little tacit
overtures from either side, — a pressure of the knee against
his own, or the heaving of a bosom against his shoulder.
He felt that his position was alike false and ridiculous;
and he became dispirited and even gloomy. He was sur-
rounded by temptations which he had ample strength of
mind and rectitude of principle to resist; and yet he had
embarked in an enterprise which compelled him to remain
in this very position and subject to these temptations.
That the little overtures, sly, artful, and tacit as they were,
were intentional and deliberate, he could no longer doubt;
and it became a question whether he was not compromising
himself too far, and entering upon the verge of outrage
against the pure love which he felt for Louisa Stanley, by
remaining any longer in the company of these sirens whose
temperaments were evidently so warm and whose morals
were becoming every instant more open to the gravest
suspicion.

Finding that they received no encouragement from the
young gentleman, Agatha and Emma presently desisted
from their tacit approaches and silent demonstrations, of
tenderness toward him. The discourse grew languid, and
soon dropped altogether, every one, save Jocelyn, falling off
into a doze. But he himself continued to meditate upon the
perplexing situation in which he was placed; and there
were but two alternatives for him to choose between. He
must either withdraw himself from the company of the
siren sisters, and thus break the promise he had pledged to
Mary that he would endeavour to rescue them from their
present career; or he must remain with them, even at the
risk of encountering overtures which pained, insulted, and
shocked him. In the former case, he would have nothing
more to do than hasten on to Italy and give the necessary
warning to the princess, leaving the three sisters to fulfil
their ignoble destiny; in the latter case, he might perhaps

THE JOURNEY TO PARIS 61

find speedy opportunities of conversing with each one alone
and separately, and thence judge whether the work of
reform were really practicable in reference to them, or
whether they were trammelled and ensnared by circum-
stances and influences beyond all hope of redemption.

Jocelyn decided upon the adoption of the latter alternative
of the two which we have named; at all events, he deter-
mined to see what results the couple of days' sojourn together
in Paris would produce.

It was eleven o'clock when the post-chaise entered the
French capital, and it proceeded straight to Meurice's
Hotel, which was in those times situated in the Rue St.
Honore. Wearied and exhausted with the long journey
of two days, Mrs. Ranger and the three sisters lost no time
in seeking repose; but ere Jocelyn retired to rest, he sat
down and penned a long letter to his well-beloved Louisa,
for he felt a profound longing thus to commune with the dear
one, by committing to paper all the tender things and fond
assurances which he would have breathed in her ears had
they been together.

CHAPTER VI

FASHIONABLE DEPRAVITY

MRS. RANGER and Julia occupied the same sleeping-
apartment at the Hotel Meurice, while Agatha and Emma
shared another.

The chambermaid had been ordered to rouse them at
nine o'clock in the morning; and accordingly, if we peep
about half an hour later into the chamber tenanted by the
two eldest sisters, we shall find them in the midst of the
avocations of the toilet.

" Now what think you of our handsome travelling-
companion, Mr. Jocelyn Loft us? " inquired Agatha, as she
combed out her long brown hair before the immense
mirror in which her whole person was reflected, as she
stood with naked shoulders and bare bosom in an
attitude of indescribable voluptuousness and unstudied
grace.

" I think that he is the handsomest young man I ever
beheld in all my life," answered Emma, who was lacing
on her corset in front of another mirror which reproduced
with equal fidelity all the rich contours and fine proportions
of her own softly sensuous form.

" But what else do you think of him, Emma? " inquired
her eldest sister.

" I scarcely know how to answer you," was the response.

" Should you like to have him as a lover? "

" Yes, but not as a husband."

" And wherefore not as a husband? " inquired Agatha.

" Because I think he is too particular. He seems a very
moral young man," returned Emma, laughing.

"Ah! have you been tempting him, then, you wicked
girl? " asked Agatha, also smiling roguishly.

62

FASHIONABLE DEPRAVITY 63

" Have you? " demanded Emma. " Come, let us confess.
You and I have no secrets from each other."

" I hope not/' observed Agatha. " Well, I am bound to
admit that the contact of his handsome person did some-
what confuse and bewilder my ideas and excite my passions
— and — and — I suffered him to perceive that he was
not displeasing to me. In plain terms, I laid my head upon
his shoulder, — this was in the evening of the first day's
journey."

" And did he reward you with a soft and noiseless kiss? "
asked Emma, her bosom heaving visibly in the mirror where
it was reflected, and the soft flush of desire tingeing her
cheeks.

" On the contrary, he seemed either not to understand
my meaning or else to be indifferent," answered Agatha.
" Nay, I am not quite sure that he did not positively repulse
me, but very gently, and rather by withdrawing himself
from me than by pushing me from him."

" Oh, he withdrew, did he? " exclaimed Emma, a light
breaking in upon her mind. " Then did I fall into a most
egregious error, for as he retreated from you he pressed
against me, and I fancied that the pressure was intentional."

" And you returned it? " said Agatha, in a voice full of
deep sensuousness, for the bare idea of these amorous over-
tures heated her blood and inflamed her imagination, so that
the carnation deepened upon her cheeks, her hazel eyes
swam in liquid languor, and her fine bust swelled and sank
like the undulating motion of the sea.

" I returned that pressure, — in fact, I gave Jocelyn
Loftus to understand precisely what you did," said Emma,
in response to her sister's question. " I let him know as
plainly as I dared that if he were bold and venturous, I
should not prove timid nor cruel."

" And the result? " exclaimed Agatha, hastily.

" The same as in your case," was the reply.

" Last evening, in the carriage, I renewed my little arti-
fices," observed Agatha, " and with an equal futility. When
we descended from the carriage and entered the room where
the lights were blazing, I scarcely dared look him in the
face; but I was resolved not to seem humiliated."

" That was precisely the feeling which I experienced,"
exclaimed Emma. " But do you think that Jocelyn is a

64 THE COURT OF LONDON

perfect anchorite, or that he rejects our overtures because
he is smitten with Julia? "

" I scarcely know what to think/' responded Agatha.
" But I do not fancy that he is inclined to pay any particular
attention to Julia; and as for a young man of two or three
and twenty years being an anchorite, is not the most probable
theory to fall back upon. He may possess very lofty notions
of honour."

" He evidently does possess them," observed Emma.

" And is therefore loath to engage in an intrigue with
young ladies who are to a certain extent under his protec-
tion," added the eldest sister.

" Very likely. Or else he is afraid of that old harridan
Ranger," suggested Emma.

" Far from it," exclaimed Agatha. " He experiences for
her the most sovereign contempt, although he endeavours
to conceal it. But I have marked the curl of his beautifully
chiselled lip — oh, what classic lips! "

" And such a faultless Grecian face, with that clear, rich
brown complexion," observed Emma. " His hair, too, is
magnificent, dark as jet and as glossy as a woman's. Then
his teeth — yours and mine are not whiter nor more even."

" And that is paying ourselves a compliment at the same
time," said Agatha, laughing so as to display the rows of
pearl which shone between her red and juicy lips. " But
did you ever behold such splendid eyes as Jocelyn's? Ah!
when I think of that fat, puffy, bloated prince, and then
fix my thoughts upon Jocelyn, it seems as if I had submitted
to the pawings of a great imp and now vainly sigh for the
embraces of an Apollo."

" Nor can I reflect lovingly upon the Duke of York's
image," said Emma, " when that of Jocelyn is uppermost
in my mind. I wonder whether Julia is smitten by him,
and whether she thinks of her Duke of Cumberland in con-
trast with our handsome fellow traveller. And yet," ex-
claimed Emma, suddenly laughing gaily and turning toward
Agatha, " it is not every trio of sisters who have had three
princes as their lovers —

" And paramours," added the eldest girl; then, with a sub-
dued sigh, she observed, in a tone that altered strangely all
in a moment, " Do you know, Emma, I am very much
afraid — "

FASHIONABLE DEPRAVITY 65

" Oh, I can guess what you are about to say/' exclaimed
Emma, with a subdued shriek and look of dismay. " Heav-
ens! is it possible? "

" I am afraid so," replied Agatha, mournfully. " But
do not speak so loud, do not give vent to ejaculations;
we may be overheard. And when I think of it, don't mention
it to Julia; for should my fears prove correct, the fewer
confidants the better."

" How in the name of Heaven will you manage, my dear
girl? " inquired Emma, still contemplating her sister with
mingled anguish and dismay.

" Oh, if it be really the case I can conceal the fact for a
long time to come," answered Agatha; " and then I must
trust to circumstances to point out the means of avoiding
eventual discovery. It is not so difficult on the Continent as
it is in England to manage these matters; mid wives are
more accomplished in France and Italy — and also more
knowing and less scrupulous," she added, with a significant
look.

" I understand you/' observed Emma. " But — "

" Do not let us talk any more about it now, my love/'
said Agatha, suddenly brightening up. " If the worst comes
to the worst, the prince regent must support his child, —
for his it assuredly will be. You know, Emma, that I have
never as yet yielded to the embrace of any other."

" And the prince must know it likewise," was the response.
" For my part, I should be fearfully shocked and alarmed if
I thought that my amour with the Duke of York was likely
to bring me into disgrace."

" And yet you are ready to plunge headlong into an
amour with Jocelyn Loftus," exclaimed Agatha, laughing,
for the natural gaiety of her disposition soon returned.

"Ah! but he is so very handsome! " murmured Emma,
with a deep sigh of mingled pleasure and ardent longing.
" It is, however, quite clear that we cannot both win him
to our arms, — to one only must the triumph and the happi-
ness belong."

" Let me have a fair opportunity of plying him with the
artillery of my fascinations," said Agatha; " and if I dis-
cover that his heart is proof, I will abandon him to your
seductive wiles."

" Agreed! " exclaimed Emma. " And after all, even

66 THE COURT OF LONDON

supposing that you should be in the way to become a mother,
it is much better to make up one's mind to lead a life of
pleasure and gaiety, especially as we cannot hope to make
very excellent marriages; for our reputation has been
assuredly damaged by our intimacy with the princes."

" And therefore," added the eldest sister, with the coolness
of settled depravity, " if we have the character of being no
better than we should be, let us also have the enjoyment."

" Upon that point, Agatha," observed Emma, " you and
I have already agreed; otherwise we should not be dis-
coursing so confidentially, so unreservedly, and so frankly
as we are doing now. But to return to the handsome
Jocelyn, what opportunity do you require, and how can
I succour you? "

" Contrive to get Mrs. Ranger and Julia to accompany you
shopping this afternoon, if possible," replied Agatha; " and
I will remain indoors with Jocelyn. He will not offer to
escort you if you expressly say you are going out shopping."

" Leave it to me," said Emma. " I suppose that after
breakfast we shall all sally forth in company to see the
lions; then we shall return to luncheon."

" And afterward I shall feel too tired to go out again
before dinner," observed Agatha. " As for Mrs. Ranger,
I am very certain that instead of standing in the way of an
intrigue, she would wink at it, — especially if a few guineas
were slipped into her hands. Oh, I have fathomed that
woman's character far more deeply than our mother has
done."

" But mamma is very credulous in some things," ob-
served Emma, " although so very astute and cunning in
others. The idea of throwing us constantly in the way of
the princes, and expecting that we should pass with impunity
through the fiery furnace."

" It was most preposterous," exclaimed Agatha. " But
here is Julia."

" What! not dressed yet? " cried this young lady, as she
entered the room. " I have been up for the last hour, and
should have come to chat with you if that dreadful old
creature, Mrs. Ranger, had not kept me to help her put her-
self together. I never knew such a painted sepulchre as she
is, — such a made-up specimen of .self-modernized antiquity.
But, by the bye, I have not until now had an opportunity

FASHIONABLE DEPRAVITY 67

of asking you both what you think of our travelling-com-
panion? "

" That is the very subject we have been discussing for
the last hour, Julia/' replied Agatha. " We both consider
him uncommonly handsome, agreeable, and fascinating.
Indeed, for myself, I infinitely prefer him to the Prince of
Wales, Emma likes him much better than the Duke of
York—"

" And I now regard the Duke of Cumberland as a perfect
orang-outang of ugliness in comparison with this Adonis
of a Jocelyn," observed Julia, with a gentle sigh.

" Has he exhibited any tenderness toward you? " inquired
Agatha.

" Not the least," she answered, in surprise at the ques-
tion. " What made you think so? "

" Because he has rejected certain little overtures which
Emma and I have made toward him," responded the eldest
sister; " and therefore we fancied that he must either have
experienced a preference for you, or else must be proof
against our witcheries altogether."

" What! a handsome young man feel no passion! " ex-
claimed Julia; " and three pretty girls unable to thaw the
ice of his heart. It's too absurd."

"So we think," rejoined Agatha; " and therefore we are
going to lay siege to him in our turns. I first, Emma second,
and you third, Julia, if we fail."

" Be it so," said the youngest of the three sisters.

And after this delectable conversation, they descended to
the sitting-room, where Jocelyn was already seated, deep
in the perusal of a French newspaper. Mrs. Ranger shortly
made her appearance; and during the repast the plans of
the day were settled. It was arranged that immediately
after breakfast they should all proceed together to visit
some of the principal buildings, that they should return to
luncheon at three, that in the afternoon those who had
purchases to make should go out shopping, and that in the
evening the whole party should visit some theatre.

Jocelyn had been in Paris before, as had also Mrs. Ranger;
they were consequently well able to conduct the young
ladies to all the most remarkable sights in the French
metropolis, and a few hours were thus passed agreeably
enough. They returned to Meurice's shortly after three

68 THE COURT OF LONDON

o'clock; and during lunch-time Emma inquired who pro-
posed to accompany her on a visit to the milliners', jewel-
lers', and other fashionable repositories. Mrs. Ranger
was of course indispensable to such a tour, which required
her knowledge of Paris, and Julia was prompt in giving an
affirmative answer. But Agatha, pleading a slight headache,
expressed her intention of remaining indoors until the eve-
ning; and Jocelyn said not a word. He was, however, well
pleased at thus finding an opportunity of discoursing alone
with one of the sisters.

Mrs. Ranger, Emma, and Julia went up to dress again;
and Agatha inquired gaily whether Mr. Loftus meant to
stay and keep her company. He replied that he proposed
to do himself that honour, and Agatha turned suddenly
away to conceal the flush of mingled joy and sensuous antic-
ipation which she felt burning upon her cheeks. Observing
that she must leave him for a few minutes, in order to help
her sister Emma at the afternoon's toilet, she hurried from
the apartment.

" Jocelyn will remain with me," she said, in a tone of
triumph, as she entered the chamber to which Emma had
preceded her. " And now, then, let me make the most of
the charms which Heaven has given me."

She selected a dress which, without being too fine or in any
way gaudy, was of surpassing elegance; and being made after
the most approved fashion of the day, it was cut so low in
the body as to leave the shoulders entirely bare and reveal
so much of the bust that the imagination had but little
trouble in filling up the remainder of the glowing picture.
She was not above the middle height, though a little taller
than Emma; but there was more dignity in her gait than
in that of her sister, and the statuesque carriage of her neck
and shoulders gave her bosom, naturally fine, the grandest
development. This she knew full well; and hence her selec-
tion of a dress which displayed her charms to the most
voluptuous advantage. But she threw over her shoulders
a gauze kerchief, thus flimsily veiling the beauties which,
with all the accomplished artifices of coquetry, she really
intended to be seen.

Mrs. Ranger, Emma, and Julia sallied forth together,
and Agatha returned to the sitting-room, where Jocelyn
had remained. The moment she made her appearance in

FASHIONABLE DEPRAVITY 69

that seductive manner, her aim and object flashed to the
mind of Loftus; and, though his looks betrayed not his
sentiments, he inwardly experienced a mingled pain and
disgust at this too brazen evidence of a deep depravity.
For an instant he was inclined to abandon the self-imposed
task of reforming the three sisters as utterly hopeless;
but then the feeling of pity for their unhappy destiny
returned to his soul, and, likewise remembering his pledge to
Mary, he resolved to prosecute an undertaking which was
nevertheless accompanied by so many incidents that shocked
his upright character and wounded his generous heart.

Throwing herself with a voluptuous negligence upon a
sofa, she darted a look all vibrating with desire upon Jocelyn
Loftus, who, taking a chair near her, paid no attention to
the studied but apparently involuntary display of charms
and fascinations, the artillery of which was now directed
against him.

" Miss Owen," he said, in a calm but serious voice, and
without looking at her, " I purposely sought the opportunity
of this interview."

" Indeed! " she murmured, her heart suddenly beating
with transport at what she instantaneously took as an
avowal, and which seemed at the moment to promise her
a far more easy victory than she had expected; and the
colour came and went in rapid transitions upon her very
beautiful countenance.

" I have behaved with some little duplicity toward you,"
continued Loftus, still keeping his eyes averted; " but the
moment for serious explanation is now come."

" And why should they be so serious? " asked the young
lady, in a low and tremulous tone the tenderness of which
at once struck Jocelyn and convinced him that his prefatory
remark had been entirely mistaken.

For suddenly turning his eyes, in mingled amazement,
pity, and pain, upon Agatha, he saw that the kerchief had
fallen away from her shoulders, and that she was leaning
toward him with all the nude display of her luxuriant charms
and with a profound wantonness in her looks.

" Miss Owen," he at once exclaimed, turning aside with
an impatience almost amounting to disgust, " let us under-
stand each other. It is purely and simply upon a matter of
business that I propose to address you; and the explanations

70 THE COURT OF LONDON

I have to give are of a very serious character, I can assure
you."

" But I am in no humour for serious discourse, Mr.
Loftus," said Agatha, in a tone of vexation; and as the
blood rushed to her cheeks, she bit her lip nervously.

" When I tell you, Miss Owen, that I am acquainted with
your sister Mary," observed Jocelyn, " you will perhaps
condescend to listen to me."

" Ah! " ejaculated the young lady; and, the keenest
interest being suddenly excited in her mind, she mechanically
drew the kerchief over her shoulders, as if abandoning, at
least for the moment, her wanton designs upon Loftus.

" Yes, I have seen Miss Mary Owen," he continued, " and
she has told me all — everything. It was by no accident
that I fell in your way at Calais, and that I became your
travelling-companion to Paris. I purposely sought the
opportunity to form your acquaintance, in the hope of
being enabled to point out to yourself and your two sisters
the lasting dishonour that will attach itself to your name
if you persevere in the course where the most fatal influences
have placed you. For if you regard the matter in its true
light, you will perceive — you cannot fail to understand,
indeed," he added, emphatically, " that you are taking
part in a shocking conspiracy to ruin the peace and destroy
the character of a lady who has never injured you. I allude
to her Royal Highness the Princess of Wales."

" Heavens! that little traitress, Mary, has indeed be-
trayed us," cried Agatha, now seriously alarmed, and
totally losing sight of all the sensuous thoughts which a few
minutes before were uppermost in her imagination. " But
where is she, Mr. Loftus? How came you to fall in with
her? "

" The day after she quitted you at Woolwich, Miss Owen,
did I encounter your unhappy sister in the streets of London;
and you may rest assured that she is not only in a place of
safety, but also in honourable companionship. I am com-
paratively a stranger to you," added Jocelyn, with some
little significancy; " but I leave you to determine whether
from the first moment of our acquaintance, the day before
yesterday, you have seen aught in me that would warrant
a suspicion against my principles and my honour. I am
young," he continued, " perhaps too young to undertake

FASHIONABLE DEPRAVITY 71

a portion of the task which I have imposed upon myself, and
which is the awakening of yourself and your sisters to a sense
of the enormity of that service wherein you are embarked.
But I cannot think, no, I dare not entertain so vile an opinion
of human nature as to suppose that you will designedly,
deliberately, and systematically undertake the ruin of a
princess who has already suffered so much. I beseech,
I implore you, Miss Owen, to weigh the matter well, to pause,
to reflect, to decide on the score of justice, honour, and
humanity. You have not yet compromised yourself too
deeply to withdraw from this atrocious service. Pardon me
for using harsh terms and strong language; but my indigna-
tion will not permit me to speak in a milder tone."

" What do you advise, what do you wish, Mr. Loft us? "
asked Agatha, nervously excited and scarcely knowing what
she said.

" If you would abandon the service in which you have
embarked," exclaimed the young man, enthusiastically,
" I would love you as a sister."

" Ah! that is but, after all, a cold expression," murmured
Agatha, with a tone and look of reviving tenderness. " There
are perhaps terms on which I might listen to you, there is
a language you might adopt that would prove irresistible — "

" Oh, do not talk to me thus, Miss Owen," exclaimed
Loftus; and as he turned his eyes reproachfully upon her,
he observed that her own were swimming in a soft, sensuous
languor and that she was again performing the part of a siren-
temptress. " I will not affect to misunderstand you, because
it will only be prolonging a topic that is unfit for us both.
Know, then, that I love and am betrothed to a young lady
whose image is never absent from my mind, a being endowed
with every virtue, and the purity of whose soul shall
never be outraged or shocked by any word or deed on my
part."

" You are the most admirable preacher I ever heard out
of a pulpit, Mr. Loftus," said Agatha, in a voice of bitter
irony; but instantaneously recovering her wonted good-
humour, she observed, " If you fancy that I hoped to in-
veigle you into a marriage with me, you are much deceived.
But you spoke of loving me as a sister — "

" I meant that if you would adopt a course worthy of
a high-spirited and humane woman," interrupted Loftus,

72 THE COURT OF LONDON

" I should experience that admiration, should feel that
friendship -

" Which would doubtless be eminently flattering to me,"
added the young lady, in a tone of good-tempered sarcasm.
" But if I give you no satisfactory assurance on that point? "
she said, inquiringly.

" Then I shall have no alternative but to hasten on to
Italy and warn her Royal Highness of the perils and the
treacheries which are closing in around her."

" You would not go to this extreme, Mr. Loftus? " ex-
claimed Agatha, now more terrified than ever.

" It would be made compulsory on my part by your
perseverance in an unjust and dishonourable course,"
responded the young gentleman. " In any case, I am
determined to seek an interview with her Royal Highness;
but I should feel well pleased not to be compelled to make
any mention of the name of Owen."

" But if my two sisters and I were to pledge ourselves to
observe a discreet, forbearing, and honourable conduct
toward the princess? " exclaimed Agatha, interrogatively.

" Even on those terms, you could not accept situations
about her person with honour to yourselves," answered
Jocelyn.

" Ah! you mean to say that you would not believe us,"
cried Agatha, her countenance becoming crimson. " But
how can we retreat? Would you have us return to England
and tell our mother that we have thrown up these high
situations and renounced all these brilliant prospects?
It is for you to pause and reflect, Mr. Loftus. What would
become of us? Our mother's door would be closed against
us; the public would fancy that something injurious to
our characters had been suddenly discovered, and that our
appointments as ladies in waiting to the princess had been
cancelled. Ruin, utter ruin, irremediable ruin, would over-
take us," exclaimed Agatha, in a voice of despair.

" A more fatal destruction will entomb you, body and
soul, Miss Owen," said Jocelyn Loftus, with deep solemnity,
" if you persist in becoming the instruments of a vile con-
spiracy. Besides, think you that the Princess of Wales
will receive you into her establishment if forewarned against
you? "

" Will you make war upon three young ladies who have

FASHIONABLE DEPRAVITY 73

not injured you, sir? " demanded Agatha, with a mixture of
indignation and reproach.

" Shall I suffer war to be made by three young ladies
against a princess who not only has never injured them,
but whom so many high personages in England are leagued
together to ruin? " and as Jocelyn thus spoke, he fixed his
gaze earnestly upon Agatha Owen, that the seriousness of his
looks might confirm the decisiveness of his language.

" Oh, if my mother were here to counsel us! " she exclaimed,
bursting into tears; and the bosom that ere now glowed
with sensuous transports and palpitated with the longings
of desire was convulsed with sobs.

" It is a most painful thing for any one to speak ill of a
mother to the ears of her daughters," said Jocelyn; " but
you must be aware, Miss Owen, that she who should have
proved your best friend has been your greatest enemy, and
fortunate will it be for you, perhaps, that your mother is
not now here to influence your decision."

" And if my sisters and I renounce the service in which
we are engaged," said Agatha, when the first convulsion of
grief had passed, " what course are we to pursue? Whither
shall we go? "

" Return to England, seek your mother, and tell her the
whole truth," replied Loftus. " Say that you had no alterna-
tive but to come back to her, inasmuch as I was so resolute,
so sternly resolute, in declaring that if you did not, I would
warn the princess against you."

" But I must consult my sisters, I must also consult with
Mrs. Ranger," observed Agatha; " and this blow has fallen
so suddenly, so unexpectedly."

" Take as much time as you think fit, Miss Owen," said
Jocelyn, " and in the interval I will keep aloof from you, I
will even remove my quarters to another hotel — "

" No, that would excite suspicions and create scandal
here," interrupted Agatha, hastily; for, notwithstanding
the hostile and dictatorial attitude which Loftus had as-
sumed, she did not wish to part from him.

" I will do nothing to increase your present annoyance,"
he responded. " If you can still regard me in a friendly
light, after all that has just occurred, I shall cheerfully
remain in your company. Indeed, I shall consider your
desire for me to do so as an evidence of improved feeling

74 THE COURT OF LONDON

on your part, and a proof that you understand and appre-
ciate the sentiments by which my conduct is actuated.
I shall now leave you, Miss Owen, for the present, and at
six o'clock I shall have the pleasure of rejoining you at
the dinner-table, when I hope that no frowns or black looks
will await me on the part of any one."

Having thus spoken, Jocelyn rose from his seat, bowed,
and quitted the apartment, leaving Agatha a prey to all
the conflicting and unenviable feelings which her own dis-
appointed sensuality and the young man's decisive conduct
had so deeply aroused in her bosom.

Mrs. Ranger, Emma, and Julia shortly afterward returned;
and the intelligence which Agatha at once imparted struck
them with consternation. They were amazed, terrified,
bewildered. But Mrs. Ranger, who in an emergency was
prompt at laying aside the airs of an old coquette and look-
ing matters deliberately in the face, soon recovered her
presence of mind; and, consulting her watch, she said, " It
is now five o'clock; we dine at six, and there is one hour
before us. In that hour much may be done."

" But what can we do? " inquired the three sisters, as
if in the same breath.

"If we persist in continuing our journey to join the
princess," proceeded Agatha, " Jocelyn Loftus will hasten
on in advance and poison the mind of her Royal Highness,
so that we shall be dismissed in ignominy when we seek her
presence; and to abandon the enterprise without a struggle
would be to compel our return in equal ignominy to London."

" Agatha," said Mrs. Ranger, fixing her eyes with a pecul-
iar but unmistakable meaning upon the eldest girl, " were
there no means by which you could have silenced this
moralizing babbler? Ah! if I were of your age and possessed
such sweet lips as yours, they should have been employed
as a seal to set upon his mouth."

"He is beyond temptation," replied Agatha, the blood
rushing to her cheeks and suffusing its crimson glow on her
neck and shoulders, down to the very hemispheres of her
bosoms.

"Ah! I understand," said Mrs. Ranger, now observing
the luxurious exposure of Agatha's charms and comprehend-
ing the motive. " We must adopt another course. Sit
down at once and pen a few lines to your mother: tell her

FASHIONABLE DEPRAVITY 75

what has happened, demand her immediate counsel, and
say that we shall remain in Paris for her instructions. I
will in the meantime go myself and arrange with the pro-
prietor of the hotel for a courier to become the bearer of the
letter, as we cannot wait the delays of the ordinary post."

" But Jocelyn must not know that we are despatching a
courier to London," observed Agatha. " At least, it would
be better that he should not."

" Leave the affair in my hands, and lose not a moment
in penning your letter," said the old Hecate of iniquity.
" In half an hour it must be ready."

She then left the apartment.

" And so Jocelyn was proof against your witcheries? "
exclaimed Emma and Julia, the instant the door closed
behind Mrs. Ranger.

" His heart is of stone to us," was the emphatic response;
" but he loves another. For my part, I have done with him,
— at least I think so, — and yet he is so agreeable as a
companion that I should be sorry to lose him altogether
from us."

" Well, my turn is now come to lay siege to him," cried
Emma, her looks glowing with the animation of hope.

Agatha now began to write the letter to her mother;
and in about twenty minutes it was concluded. Mrs.
Ranger soon afterward made her appearance, followed
by a French courier, ready booted and spurred; the despatch
was delivered to him, and he instantaneously took his
departure.

At six o'clock the dinner was served up, and Jocelyn
made his appearance. Mrs. Ranger and the girls were less
cheerful than hitherto; but there was no alteration in the
friendly tone of their manner toward himself. Indeed, a
glass of champagne presently restored them all to something
near their wonted liveliness; and after dinner Jocelyn
escorted them to the theatre. They returned to the hotel
at about eleven o'clock, and sought their chambers.

The following day — this was Wednesday, and the same
on which Venetia and Sackville were married in London —
was passed in visiting the various exhibitions and public
buildings that remained to be seen. Not a word was spoken
relative to the all-important matter then pending; but
Jocelyn remarked that Agatha did not seem so anxious

76 THE COURT OF LONDON

as before to keep near him when they were walking, or sit
next to him in the carriage which was hired for the excursion;
whereas it was now Emma who monopolized his arm and
engrossed to herself all the attentions which the rules of
courtesy compelled him to display.

The next day (Thursday) was passed in a similar manner,
still nothing more being said about the important topic of
Jocelyn's discourse with Agatha, and Emma still constitut-
ing herself the monopolist of his attentions. The ladies
all seemed to be a trifle less cheerful than at first; and it
was therefore evident that the affair had made some impres-
sion upon them. But why they took so much time to arrive
at a decision, Loftus could not imagine. If he were, however,
at a loss on this point, he had no difficulty in observing that
Emma was assailing his heart with a thousand little seductive
wiles and insidious fascinations; but he seemed to take no
notice thereof, and he assuredly gave her no encouragement.

This same Thursday brought letters from England, some
for the Misses Owen, and others for Jocelyn. The former,
written by the young ladies' mother, made them acquainted
with the burglary which had taken place on the preceding
Sunday at Richmond, and the death of the footman. The
correspondence for Loftus was from his beloved Louisa, who
gave him the fondest and tenderest assurances of her un-
alterable attachment. Before Jocelyn retired to bed that
Thursday night, he read Louisa's letters over and over again,
and sat up late to pen her a long epistle in reply. He stated
frankly that he was still in company with Mrs. Ranger and
the Misses Owen, that he had broken the ice with regard to
the object of his visit to the Continent, and that he hoped to
succeed in inducing Mary's sisters to abandon their nefarious
enterprise of their own accord, without compelling him to
expose them to the Princess of Wales.

The following day (Friday) was passed in the same manner
as the two preceding days; and Saturday was slipping by
in a similar way, when Jocelyn thought it high time to ex-
press his hope to Agatha that a decision would be promptly
announced to him. He accordingly found an opportunity
of mentioning the subject apart to her, and she at once
assured him that on the morrow he should receive a final
answer. A suspicion which he had already conceived, to the
effect that the ladies were awaiting instructions from Eng-

FASHIONABLE DEPRAVITY 77

land, now became strengthened in his mind; and he frankly
stated his thoughts to Agatha. But with an appearance of
the most ingenuous sincerity she vowed that the delay was
caused solely by the difficulty of coming to a decision on the
point; and she added that the morrow being Sunday, they
had resolved to devote the morning to an earnest deliberation
on the course which was to be pursued. Jocelyn was satisfied
to wait four and twenty hours longer, and no more was said
upon the subject this day.

Having visited a theatre in the evening, the party returned
to the hotel at about eleven o'clock, as usual; and soon
afterward they sought their respective chambers. But
when Jocelyn entered his own apartment, he found a note
lying upon the toilet-table, and on examining the address,
he perceived that it was in a beautiful female hand-
writing.

For a few moments he hesitated to break the seal, suspect-
ing that it was a communication from one of the young
ladies; but considering, on a second thought, that indiscre-
tion and indelicacy could scarcely be carried so far, he opened
the letter. His charitable conclusion was, however, doomed
to disappointment, for the contents of the note ran as
follows:

" It is absolutely necessary that Agatha and I should have
a few minutes' conversation with you alone, and as soon as
possible. I am altogether of opinion that my sisters and my-
self should retire from the false and painful position in which
the influence and intrigues of others have placed us; and
for my own part I am resolved to follow the excellent advice
which you so generously, disinterestedly, and kindly gave
Agatha. In a word, I shall resign my appointment as lady
in waiting to her Royal Highness the Princess of Wales.
Agatha is also inclined to adopt the same course; but Julia
cannot be persuaded to fall into the same view, and Mrs.
Ranger is perversely bent in opposing it. This lady watches
us narrowly, in order to prevent any private conversation
with you upon the subject. To-morrow, immediately after
breakfast, we are to hold a consultation, and a decision will
be arrived at. But it is absolutely necessary that Agatha
and myself should have the benefit of further counsel from
your lips before this consultation. Will you, then, have the

78 THE COURT OF LONDON

kindness to meet us to-morrow morning at eight o'clock in
the Champs Elyse*es?

"EMMA OWEN."

" It may be written in full honesty and sincerity," said
Loftus to himself, as he contemplated the note which he had
just perused; " but still I have my misgivings. Nevertheless,
I will not prejudge the writer, but will keep the appoint-
ment."

CHAPTER VII

ANOTHER PHASE OF FASHIONABLE DEPRAVITY

CLEAR, bright, and beautiful was the Sunday morning, as
Jocelyn Loftus issued from the Hotel Meurice and bent his
way to the shady avenues of the Champs Elysees. This
beautiful resort was not above ten minutes' walk from the
hotel; and on reaching the central avenue, Jocelyn was
almost instantaneously joined by Emma Owen.

" Where is your sister? " he inquired, with a somewhat
serious air; for on finding that she was alone, his misgivings
of the preceding night returned with double force to his
breast.

" She was so long in dressing that I feared to be late/'
responded Emma, with an air of frank sincerity; " and as
we breakfast at nine, you know, there was not a minute to
spare."

" We will at once, then, proceed to the object of our inter-
view," said Jocelyn, offering his arm to the young lady, and
leading her gently along the avenue.

We must here pause to observe that on the Sunday morn-
ing in those times, as well as at the present day, large numbers
of the working classes were in the habit of proceeding early
to the villages in the suburbs of Paris to pass the day in
dancing, rambling in the woods, water excursions, picnics,
and other innocent recreations. There was scarcely a Sunday
without a ducasse, or fair, in one of these suburban villages;
and the Champs Elysees were always sure to be thronged in
the morning with the pleasure-seekers repairing to the
scenes of their amusement. Such was the case on the present
occasion; and it was evidently impossible to pursue a serious
and uninterrupted discourse in the central road of the
Champs Elysees. Jocelyn was therefore compelled to con-

79

80 THE COURT OF LONDON

duct his fair companion into one of the less frequented
paths; and indeed they soon found themselves entirely
alone in a secluded avenue of trees.

Emma was elegantly dressed, and looked truly beautiful.
The morning air and the inward fluttering of her feelings
heightened the colour upon her cheeks and appeared to
enhance the lustre of her eyes. Few men could have been
stoical enough to resist the artillery of such charms; but
Jocelyn loved his absent Louisa with the purest, holiest, and
most fervid passion, and such a love is an armour of proof
for him who experiences it.

" I have read your note with much attention, Miss Owen,
and with unfeigned pleasure," he began, determined to take
her at her word precisely as she had expressed herself in her
communication. " You have resolved to resign your
appointment, your eldest sister is prepared, you tell me, to
adopt a similar course, but Miss Julia cannot so easily
abandon a post which she doubtless considers to be invested
with brilliancy and honour. Mrs. Ranger is obstinately
opposed to the course I have pointed out, and she perhaps
exercises considerable influence over Miss Julia's mind.
Is this the actual position of the affair? "

"It is," replied Emma. Then, gazing up fondly in
Jocelyn's face, she said, in a low and tremulous tone, " It
was a fatal day, Mr. Loftus, when you first resolved upon
your present enterprise, however generous and even chivalric
may have been your motive."

" What do you mean, Miss Owen? " he demanded, sur-
veying her in astonishment.

" I mean, Mr. Loftus, — and I implore you to hear me
with attention," she cried, grasping his arm firmly with her
elegantly gloved hand, as if she were fearful that he would
escape her, — "I mean that you have deprived me of my
peace of mind, of all my hopes of happiness in this world.
You have extirpated one idea from my soul, but you have
implanted another there, which is indelible. You have
destroyed the dream of grandeur which I had pictured to
myself in connection with my appointment to the little
court of her Royal Highness ; and you have left in the place
of that golden vision the image of yourself. Oh, start not,
attempt not to withdraw your arm, you must and you shall
hear me! " she exclaimed, with a wild energy. " For I am

ANOTHER PHASE OF DEPRAVITY 81

not the mistress of my own feelings, I cannot control my
own actions. I have conceived for you a passion that is in
itself a frenzy -

" Miss Owen, I dare hear no more/' said Jocelyn, reso-
lutely and almost sternly. " Let it suffice for you to learn
and for me to declare that I love another."

" Ah! wretch that I am! " she cried, with a faint shriek.
" I cannot endure to live! By all that is sacred, I swear — "

" Take no rash vow, calm yourself, tranquillize your
feelings," exclaimed Jocelyn, cruelly embarrassed by this
scene, and deeply, deeply regretting he had kept the ap-
pointment; but more than half-suspecting that her frenzied
manner was only feigned, he said, " Remember how indis-
creet, how unladylike, how unmaidenly it is on your part,
thus to address a young man who is almost a stranger to
you."

" A stranger!" cried Emma, hysterically, as she clung with
force to his arm. " No, no; I am as well acquainted with
you as if I had known you all my life. Yours are qualities
so resplendent that they take one by surprise, and seize,
as it were, upon the very heart. You must not blame me
for what I have done, for what I am doing. Why did you
throw yourself in my way? Why did you seek our com-
panionship in this journey? It was not I who sought you
in the first instance. Had you been a stranger passing me
in the street, and if I had accosted you, you would have been
justified in spurning me from your presence; but it was far
different. You introduced yourself, as it were, to me, you
shone upon me in all the glory of your beautiful person and
your brilliant mind, and you snatched away my heart.
It was not taken slowly and insidiously, it was ravished all
in a moment. And can I help this love, this immeasurable
love, with which you have inspired me? Is it my fault
that I have succumbed to the magic of that voice and those
looks the influence of which has been shed upon me? And
you — cruel that you are — you reproach me for telling
you that state of mind into which you yourself have plunged
me!"

Then, apparently exhausted by this torrent of words
which she had poured out with passionate vehemence,
Emma Owen sank upon a bench and gave way to a flood
of equally violent weeping.

82 THE COURT OF LONDON

Jocelyn threw a rapid glance around; and it was some
relief to his immense perplexity to be assured that no ob-
server was nigh. Indeed, he was most cruelly bewildered.
The ardour of the young lady's language, her impassioned
manner, her wild looks, and then her apparently deep
anguish, all staggered him. Himself too little versed in the
treacheries and hypocrisies, the feints and the artifices, of
which the human mind is capable, he could not believe that
this scene was all duplicity, all a studied tragedy, from the
beginning up to the present stage. And yet he could not
bring himself to fancy it entirely genuine and real. Thus,
tormented by uncertainty, fearful of proving harsh on the
one hand, and recoiling from the idea of being made a dupe
on the other, he dared not withhold commiseration, and he
dared not proffer it.

" Miss Owen," he said, in a voice that was serious without
being severe, and in a manner that was reserved without be-
ing harsh, " I must beg and implore that you permit me at
once to escort you back to the hotel. There is a duty which
you owe to yourself, there is a duty which you owe to me as
a fellow creature. That is, to control your feelings, to what-
ever extent they may be excited."

" Oh, this is maddening — maddening! " exclaimed
Emma, clasping her hands as if in despair. " How can you
preach patience, calmness, and duty to one who is goaded to
frenzy? You say that you love another. Well, I seek not
to interfere with the happiness of that being whom you have
blessed with this enviable love. You have a whole life to
devote to her; can you, then, refuse me one single day, one
single hour of love, since you have stolen away my heart?
Ah! it is a dreadful confession to make, and I feel the tingling
of shame from the crown of my head to my very feet; but
this confession must be made all the same. And it is that I
love you with a madness of passion, with a frenzy that will
prove my death; and that madness, that frenzy, must be
appeased. Surely no woman ever loved so wildly, so in-
tensely, and so enthusiastically before. My doom, then,
is in your hands. Give me one day, one single day, of that
blessed love of thine, and I shall sustain myself on the
memory thereof for the rest of my life. Nay, I shall even be
happy, contented, rejoiced; and I shall treasure up the
recollection of that one day's consummated bliss as the only

ANOTHER PHASE OF DEPRAVITY 83

gem that my soul covets. But refuse me, Jocelyn, refuse
me," she said, the exaltation of her voice and manner sud-
denly sinking into lowness and gloom, " refuse me, I say,
and the waters of the Seine are deep — "

" Heavens! what madness is this? " cried Loftus, his
perplexity now rising into the cruellest alarm. " I have
listened to you too long, Miss Owen, and you have said too
much."

" Farewell, then, farewell for ever! " she suddenly ex-
claimed; and springing from the seat, she sped along the
avenue with the fleetness of the hunted deer, toward the
bank of the river Seine which flowed hard by.

" Good God! she is serious — it is no artifice! " thought
Jocelyn; and, wild with terror, he bounded after her, over-
taking her near the end of the avenue.

She sank exhausted in his arms; and as he bore her to one
of the numerous benches scattered about, he saw that her
eyes were closing as if she were going to faint, although the
deep hues of overwrought excitement remained upon her
cheeks.

Placing himself upon the seat, which was a mere common
bench without any back to lean against, he was compelled
to support her in his arms; and once more did he look up
and down the avenue, in the fear of being observed. But
no person was approaching, nor even visible from that
spot; and, somewhat relieved by this circumstance, he again
bent his looks upon the countenance of the young lady.

"Ah! it were sweet to die thus," she murmured, softly,
as she opened her eyes and gazed up into his counte-
nance with ineffable tenderness. " But wherefore did you
pursue me, why did you hold me back, when in another
minute there would have been an end to the woes, the an-
guish, and the despair which you have implanted in my
bosom? "

" Let us not renew the conversation now, Miss Owen/'
said Jocelyn, gently raising her recumbent form. " You
have afflicted me sadly, you have terrified me profoundly,
and I must insist that we return at once to the hotel."

" You will subject me, then, to the matchless humiliation
of having besought an hour of your love, and experiencing a
refusal? " murmured Emma, bending down her hazel eyes,
upon the lashes of which the teardrops trembled, while the

84 THE COURT OF LONDON

blush of shame was now upon her cheeks, and her bosom
was convulsed with sobs.

" I scarcely think you comprehend the purport of your
own words. Miss Owen," said Loft us, emphatically; " and
I hope to God that you do not. Very, very painful would
it be for me to imagine — "

11 Oh," she exclaimed, in another paroxysm of frenzied
exaltation, " you must imagine the truth, and of that truth
I am not ashamed. For you have filled my heart with a
passion which is consuming me; and all my happiness, my
very life, indeed, is staked upon the hope of appeasing it.
Revile, scorn, loath, abhor me as you will, denounce me as
unmaidenly, proscribe me as a disgrace to my sex, but still
you cannot alter the condition of my heart. And surely
when a fond, a loving, and a devoted woman offers to aban-
don herself to you. not only as a proof of that illimitable
worship, that frenzied adoration, but also that she herself
may have the recollection of that hour of love and bliss to
compensate her for the loss of thee thereafter and enable
her to sustain the weight of the future years of her existence,
surely, I say, you will not spurn her altogether! "

Thus speaking, Emma fixed her fond and earnest regards
in profound entreaty upon Jocelyn Loftus, who, shocked at
the dreadful depravity which was enveloped in such softly
insidious language, could not prevent his looks from be-
traying the disgust that filled his soul.

" Take my arm, madam," he said, in a stern and imperi-
ous tone, as he rose from the bench. " It is time we should
hasten homeward."

" No, I will not move until I have your response," ex-
claimed Emma, passionately.

" Then hear it, whatever be the consequences," rejoined
Loftus. " Your wiles, your arts, your fascinations are
wasted upon me. I would sooner perish than prove unfaith-
ful to her who possesses my love. Come, Miss Owen, I insist
upon our immediate departure hence."

Humiliated, baffled, disappointed, and almost crushed
with the overpowering sense of shame, Emma saw that her
seductive arts were indeed thrown away upon this well-
principled young man; and mechanically taking his arm,
she suffered him to lead her from the secluded avenue where
the extraordinary scene just recorded had taken place.

ANOTHER PHASE OF DEPRAVITY 85

Not a word was now spoken between them ; nor did Emma
dare even to risk a furtive glance at his countenance, for
fear he should observe that she thus regarded him. But
there was in the depths of her soul the intuitive conviction
that his looks were full of the expression of outraged feeling;
and depraved as she was in heart, she nevertheless deplored
her folly in risking so consummate a humiliation. She was
also racked by the torture of unappeasable desires; for
although her conduct toward Jocelyn had commenced in
artifice and duplicity, it had nevertheless acquired a certain
amount of sincerity from the inspiration of her licentious
passions. Thus the ardour of her language was not altogether
feigned; but it was created by the heart's own incendiarism
of feelings, and not by the purer flame of love.

In silence did they regain the hotel; and the moment
they entered the passage leading to the sitting-room, Jocelyn
stopped short.

" Miss Owen/' he said, " I shall not betray to a living soul
the particulars of the interview which has taken place
between us. I will not add to your humiliation by publish-
ing your shame. If your absence has been observed, I
leave you to give what explanations you choose. But I
must decline the honour of henceforth joining your party
at table or elsewhere. If your sisters and yourself have any
communication to make relative to the important subject
which I need only thus allude to, it can be done in writing.
But if I hear nothing from you in the course of this day,
I shall to-morrow morning continue my journey — but
alone — toward Italy; and her Royal Highness the Princess
of Wales will be duly prepared to receive the spies whom
her unprincipled husband has appointed to attend upon
her."

Having thus spoken, Jocelyn Loftus bowed coldly and
turned away; and Emma, who had listened with flushing
cheeks, downcast eyes, and trembling form, hastened up to
her own chamber to give vent to her agitated feelings in a
flood of tears.

On thus leaving the young lady, Jocelyn issued from the
passage and passed into the courtyard of the hotel, for the
purpose of seeking the coffee-room where he intended to take
his breakfast. But he was accosted by an elderly, sour-
looking Frenchman, plainly though by no means shabbily

86 THE COURT OF LONDON

dressed, and the first glance of whose eyes seemed intended
to pierce Loftus through and through.

" I beg your pardon, sir/' he began, politely raising his
hat, " but I wish to have a word or two with you on business
of importance."

" We will inquire for a private room," said Jocelyn, not
much liking the man's appearance or mode of address, and
having a vague and undefined suspicion of some impending
treachery.

" It is not worth while, sir," was the response. " In fact,
I may as well inform you at once that I am a police agent,
and those persons," he added, glancing over his shoulder
toward two individuals, also in plain clothes, who were
lounging under the gateway, " are my comrades. You will
have the goodness, sir, to accompany me to the prefecture of
police."

" For what purpose, and upon what charge? " demanded
Loftus, indignantly.

" Merely to give the prefect some little explanations,
eir," replied the police agent. " I dare say it will be all right;
but you must come away at once."

" Allow me to visit my chamber for a moment," said
Loftus, " in order to fetch some papers and documents that
I may require to prove my respectability, if that be the point
on which the prefect demands information."

" Your papers are already in my possession, sir," re-
turned the police agent, drily.

" What! you have dared violate the privacy of my
writing-desk? " exclaimed Jocelyn, more indignantly than
at first.

" I had my authority, sir," was the cold and laconic
rejoinder.

Jocelyn paused for a few moments; but well aware that
the French police possessed extraordinary powers, and
reflecting how useless it would be to defy them, he said, " I
will accompany you."

The agent again raised his hat politely, and followed
Loftus from the courtyard of the hotel. On emerging into
the street, they entered a hackney-coach that was ready
waiting at a little distance, and the officer made a sign to
his two men that they need not follow into the vehicle, as
they were about to do.

ANOTHER PHASE OF DEPRAVITY 87

The hackney-coach rolled away along the Rue St. Honore;
and during its progress to the headquarters of the police,
Jocelyn endeavoured to glean from his companion a more
special idea of the cause of the present proceeding. But the
agent was so guarded in his replies that the young gentleman
was left as much in the dark as he was before he put his
queries, though, perhaps, his own conjectures furnished him
with some faint glimmering of the real truth.

In twenty minutes the hackney-coach turned into the
dark and gloomy gateway of the prefecture; and Jocelyn
was immediately conducted by the police agent into the
presence of an old gentleman, who was seated at a desk in a
handsomely furnished apartment. This functionary was
the prefect of police.

" Be seated," he said, in a courteous tone; and Jocelyn,
as he took a chair, began to imagine that there was no
treachery in contemplation, after all.

Meantime the police agent had quitted the apartment;
but returning in a few moments, he handed the prefect a
document which Jocelyn instantaneously recognized as
his own passport, and which he had delivered to the land-
lord of the hotel, according to custom, on his arrival in
Paris.

" You know this paper? " said the prefect, displaying it
before Jocelyn's eyes.

" I do. It is my passport," he replied.

" But it is made out in a false name, sir/' remarked the
prefect. " You do not deny this allegation? "

" I do not deny it," rejoined the young gentleman; " but
I will at once, and, I am sure, in the most satisfactory
manner, explain to your Excellency the reasons — "

" I ask no explanations, sir," interrupted the prefect,
more curtly and severely than before. " With your motives
I have nothing to do ; the fact, which you deny not, is suffi-
cient for me. It is my painful duty to detain you in
custody for the present. You will have the goodness to
accompany the officer — "

" But, your Excellency, this outrage — "

" Silence, sir! " ejaculated the prefect, now speaking with
unmitigated sternness.

" No, I will not remain silent," exclaimed Loftus, his
countenance glowing with indignation. " As a British

88 THE COURT OF LONDON

subject, I shall demand the protection of my country's
ambassador — '

But the prefect cut short the young gentleman's words
by abruptly quitting the apartment; and the police agent,
tapping him upon the shoulder, said, " Have the goodness
to follow me, sir."

Loftus, perceiving that it was useless to remonstrate with
a subordinate who was obeying the commands of a superior,
accompanied him from the room, and was conducted along
a dark passage to a small, ill-furnished chamber, the windows
of which were defended with massive iron bars.

The door was then closed upon him; and as the grating
sound of the key turning in the lock and of the huge bolts
shooting into their sockets met his ears, he thought of his
absent and well-beloved Louisa, and his heart sank within
him.

CHAPTER VIII

THE REUNION OF THE PARTY OF SIX

A FORTNIGHT had elapsed since the marriage of Horace
Sackville and Venetia Trelawney; and in the evening of the
10th of October (for, after Byron's example, we like to be
particular in dates) all was bustle and activity at the house
of Colonel Malpas in Great Marlborough Street.

The dining-room was brilliantly lighted; the table was
laid for six persons, the sideboard exhibited a splendid
dessert in crystal dishes, and the culinary process below-
stairs gave promise of a luxurious banquet.

At about a quarter to six o'clock Colonel Malpas, dressed
in full evening costume, descended from his chamber and
cast an approving eye over the arrangements in the dining-
room. Everything was to his perfect satisfaction; and his
butler received due acknowledgments for the taste displayed
in the preliminary details of the entertainment.

" It does you infinite credit, Plumpstead," said the
colonel, " very great credit indeed. By the bye, how much
am I indebted to you, my good fellow? "

" Only two years and a half's wages, at forty guineas a
year, sir," was the response; but though Mr. Plumpstead
courteously introduced the word only, it must by no means
be fancied that he was well pleased at the existence of these
long arrears.

" Ah! that's a hundred guineas, Plumpstead," said the
colonel. " Well, I shall settle with you to-morrow, you may
rely upon it."

" I hope you will not forget it, sir," replied the butler,
with a low bow. Then, as his master left the room, he
muttered to himself, "The cheating scoundrel! I don't
believe I shall ever see the colour of my money. I can take

89

90 THE COURT OF LONDON

my oath something queer's going to happen, for I am certain
that fellow was a sheriff's officer who called this morning to
ask if the colonel was in town. And by the bye, I forgot to
tell master of it; but no matter. To-morrow will be time
enough."

Thus mused Mr. Plumpstead, the butler, while the colonel
ascended the well-lighted staircase to the drawing-room.
There he surveyed himself from head to foot in one of the
handsome mirrors; and as he caressed his moustache, he
complacently observed, " Well, I certainly am good-looking
enough to win the favours of even such a transcendent beauty
as Venetia Trelawney."

But still the colonel was not altogether easy in his mind.
To speak more plainly still, he was restless, nervous, and
agitated. It was true that he had succeeded in persuading
his wife to pay a visit for the occasion to her plebeian
relatives in the City, — for be it remembered that he had
married the daughter of a retired butcher, — and he had also
managed to get the money to provide the sumptuous banquet
about to take place. But the satisfaction arising from these
achievements was more than counterbalanced by the des-
perate hazards and risks he was about to run, and into
which his desperate circumstances had impelled him. In
fact, he was knave enough to concoct any villainy; but he
was somewhat deficient in the courage necessary to carry
it out. Therefore, the nearer the hour approached for
executing the scheme on which he was bent, the more
nervous did he become.

In addition to this, Emmerson had compelled him to
sign a note of hand, payable on demand, for the amount of
the forged bills. This note was given on the morning after
the scene with Lady Curzon at Mrs. Gale's; thus a fortnight
had elapsed, and the note was still unpaid. Two or three
days previous to the evening of which we are now writing,
Malpas received an urgent and indeed threatening letter
from Mr. Emmerson; but he had written to put the bill-
broker off with a solemn assurance to liquidate the whole
sum in the course of the week. His only hope of paying
the amount existed in the result of the scheme which
he had now in hand, and in furtherance of which the
banquet was to be given, and if this scheme should
fail, utter ruin would stare him in the face, with the

REUNION OF THE PARTY OF SIX 91

concomitant alternatives of flight to the Continent or a
debtor's gaol.

Such was the position wherein Colonel Malpas was placed,
and the reader requires not to be assured that it was far
from an enviable one. Indeed, that self-sufficient survey
of his person in the mirror and that complacent caressing
of the moustache were only the sickly attempt of an agitated
mind to persuade itself that it was not so restless as it
really was, in the same way that a guilty person who trembles
at every knock at the door endeavours to tranquillize his
fears by constantly saying, " After all, it is impossible I
can be found out." Thus do men, in difficult and dangerous
circumstances, invariably strive to reason themselves out
of their most settled convictions, and persuade themselves
that the feelings which torture them are really not felt at all.

But to return to the thread of our story.

Precisely at six o'clock a carriage dashed up to the colonel's
house, and in a few moments the footman flung open the
drawing-room door, announcing, in a loud voice, " Sir
Douglas Huntingdon! "

The colonel hastened forward to receive him; and as
they shook hands, the baronet said, with a gay laugh,
" Well, upon my word, Malpas, I was never more surprised
in all my life than when I received your note of invitation
to this banquet."

" Is there anything so very remarkable in my having
company? " observed the colonel, affecting a happy and
good-humoured smile. "Methinks," he continued, with
his wonted drawing-room drawl, " this is not the first time
I shall have had the pleasure of entertaining you, Hunting-
don; and I am sure I hope it will not be the last."

" And so do I," exclaimed the baronet, flinging himself
upon a seat. " But your note enjoined me to lay aside any
other engagement I might have formed, inasmuch as this
banquet was in pursuance of the agreement entered into a
month ago at Leveson House. What, then, could I imagine,
but that, after all, you have been the successful candidate
for the favours of the lovely Venetia? "

" Well, you shall see presently," observed Malpas, assum-
ing a pleasant look of mingled significancy and triumph.
" All in good time, you know; the banquet first, and business
afterward."

92 THE COURT OF LONDON

" But how on earth could Sackville have married her? "
exclaimed the baronet, evidently bewildered by the various
thoughts that were agitating conflictingly in his mind.
" Of course he did not know that she had already had been
won by you; and, if he comes to-night, I should think the
scene will be rather a painful, or, at all events, an extraordi-
nary one. He will have to be told to his face that he married
a woman who, with all her enchanting beauty, was no
better than she should be — "

At this moment the door was again thrown open, and
the Earl of Curzon was announced.

" My dear Malpas," he exclaimed, " is it a fact? — or is
it a hoax? It is assuredly no delusion that you purpose
to give us a banquet, for the dining-room door stood open
as I passed through the hall ; and to clear up the misgivings
which had haunted me ever since I received your note a
few days back, I peeped in and saw covers laid for six.
Pardon this impertinence on my part, but I really could
not help thus gratifying my curiosity and appeasing my
suspense."

" Well, I have been as much astonished as yourself,
Curzon," said Sir Douglas Huntingdon, while the colonel
endeavoured to look good-humouredly knowing and com-
placently mysterious. " But I was observing to Malpas
just as you came in, what an ass Sackville has either made
of himself or else will be made to appear to-night."

" I don't think he will come," exclaimed the Earl of
Curzon. " In fact, he can not; he would never dare show
his face amongst us. He will be too much ashamed of
himself, and will never stand all the bantering he must expect
for being so egregiously duped. For my part, I think Venetia
is a deuced deal worse than he must even suspect after
receiving Malpas's note — But, by the bye, did you send
him one? " asked the nobleman, turning toward the colonel.

" To be sure I did," was the response. " Was I not bound
to do so in accordance with the agreement made at Leveson
House? "

" As a matter of course," observed Huntingdon. " But
what do you mean, Curzon," he inquired, evidently struck
by something the nobleman had said, " when you state
that Venetia is worse than her husband can even suspect
her to be after receiving Malpas's note of invitation? "

REUNION OF THE PARTY OF SIX 93

mean/' replied the earl, " that I am very much mis-
taken if — "

But he stopped short as the door was again thrown open
and the Marquis of Leveson made his appearance.

Malpas hastened to welcome the old debauchee, who,
after shaking hands with Curzon and Sir Douglas, drew the
colonel aside, saying, " I'm really afraid this will turn out
an unpleasant business."

" How do you mean? " inquired Malpas, a cold terror
seizing upon him.

" Because it must produce a quarrel between you and
Sackville."

" No such thing. If he were fool enough to be gulled into
a marriage with a woman who had previously surrendered
herself to me — "

" There is some force in your argument," interrupted
Lord Leveson; " but let us look well at the matter so as to
anticipate, if possible, any dispute with Sackville, which
might give publicity to the thing."

" Oh, for his own sake, he will not let the world know
what a fool he has been," said the colonel, evidently anxious
to escape from the colloquy into which the marquis was
drawing him.

" At all events, let us talk it over, Malpas," persisted
the nobleman; and leading him still farther toward the
extremity of the spacious drawing-room, he proceeded to
argue upon the necessity of caution, but evidently with
the more interested object of extracting from the colonel
all the particulars relative to his presumed triumph over
Venetia.

Meanwhile Sir Douglas Huntingdon had drawn the Earl
of Curzon aside to the other extremity of the drawing-room;
and looking him earnestly in the face, he said, " What
was the observation you were about to make when Leveson
arrived? "

" Well, I hardly know whether I ought to give utterance
to my suspicions," returned the earl, in a musing tone;
" but in confidence between you and me, I have every reason
to believe that Venetia abandoned herself to the Marquis
of Leveson and the Prince of Wales — "

" And I have entertained precisely the same suspicions,"
interrupted the baronet.

94 THE COURT OF LONDON

" The devil you have! " said the earl, in surprise. " But
how on earth — "

" I know what you are going to say," remarked the
baronet, with a smile of peculiar meaning; " and may I
not also inquire how on earth you came to glean your
information on those points? Come, let us be candid with
each other."

" Willingly," said the earl. " In plain terms, then, I
bribed Tash and his man Robin to watch Venetia — "

" So did I," responded the baronet.

" Well! this is excellent! " remarked Curzon. " And
they informed you that Venetia went to Leveson House
and Carl ton Palace on the same night? "

" Precisely so," returned the baronet. " But they also
gave me a version of Malpas's interview with Venetia in
Lady Wenlock's grounds at Kew, which does not very well
tally with his boasted triumph over her."

" And they gave me a similarly puzzling account of that
interview," rejoined Curzon. " In fact, it is this that has
so much perplexed me. I do not know what to think.
Either Tash or Malpas must lie most tremendously."

" The affair is curiously involved," observed Sir Douglas
Huntingdon; " and its details are intricate to a degree.
Malpas never would be fool and scoundrel enough — "

" I have no very exalted opinion of him," said the earl,
" and you must remember there are six thousand guineas
at stake. Leveson is treasurer; and we will not allow him
to part with the money unless Malpas can give us the most
positive and undeniable proofs that he really succeeded in
being the first to win the favours of Venetia. What induces
me to fancy that he might have done so is that Venetia
evidently abandoned herself to Leveson and the prince, —
on the same evening, too; and therefore she is thoroughly
depraved."

" But why should she have rejected you and me? " asked
the baronet. " At all events, if money be her object, you
could have given her as much as Malpas; and if good looks
be concerned, I may add, without flattery, that you ought
to have stood a better chance than he."

At this moment the door was thrown open; and the
domestic announced his Royal Highness the Prince Regent.

Malpas, instantaneously quitting Lord Leveson, advanced

REUNION OF THE PARTY OF SIX 95

to meet the prince, who shook hands with him as cordially
as ever, despite the angry declaration which he had made to
Venetia, the night of her visit to Carlton Palace, to the effect
that the colonel was a sneaking scoundrel and would do
well never to show himself in his royal presence again. Thus
was it, however, that the royal presence was now vouch-
safed at the colonel's dwelling, notwithstanding the menace
alluded to.

After exchanging a few words with Malpas on ordinary
topics, and without the slightest mention of Venetians
name, the prince regent suddenly turned toward Leveson,
saying, " By the bye, my dear marquis, I have a few
words to whisper in your ear, — on a political matter;
and I hope Malpas will excuse my rudeness in taking you
aside."

" Your Royal Highness is the master here as elsewhere,"
said the colonel; and, caressing his moustache, he proceeded
to join the Earl of Curzon and Sir Douglas Huntingdon.

The prince took Leveson's arm and lounged with him
toward the end of the room; then, in a low tone, he said,
" What the devil is the meaning of all this? "

" I cannot understand it," responded the marquis. " It
seems tolerably clear that Malpas has achieved a triumph;
and I believe it, because when Venetia came to my house
she told me that the colonel had made her acquainted with
all the particulars of the love-campaign."

",She told me precisely the same thing," observed the
prince; " but she spoke of Malpas at the time in terms of
contempt and disgust."

" That may have been an artifice," said Lord Leveson.
" Malpas assures me he shall produce the most undeniable
evidence of his success, but what the evidence is he would
not explain at present. Venetia must be as deceptive and
designing as she is beautiful."

" I really begin to think so," observed the prince. " It
was my intention to cut Malpas for ever; but when I received
his note of invitation to this banquet, and understood the
meaning it implied, I was positively astounded. I therefore
resolved to suspend my opinion altogether until the events
of this evening should have transpired. But I am seriously
afraid that Sackville has made a great fool of himself, and
is inveigled into a match with an unprincipled adventuress, —

96 THE COURT OF LONDON

most probably head and ears in debt, and only anxious to
get a husband in order to throw the burden of her liabilities
upon his shoulders and thus save herself from prison."

" It looks uncommonly like it," observed the marquis.

" By the bye, any news of the gossamer lady? " asked the
prince, with a smile.

" None, sir," responded the nobleman, his looks becoming
clouded all in a moment; but instantaneously recovering
his composure, he said, " Does your Royal Highness know
whether Mr. and Mrs. Sackville have returned to town? "

" I do not," answered the prince. " But perhaps Malpas
can tell us." Then, advancing toward the centre of the
room, he said, " Colonel, do you know whether the Sack-
villes have returned from Brighton? "

" They came back last night, sir," exclaimed the Earl of
Curzon, " and proceeded to Acacia Cottage."

" You had that information from our friend Tash,"
whispered the baronet, hurriedly. " He sent Robin to me
late last night with the same intelligence."

" Do you think Sackville will join our party? " inquired
the prince.

" I have received no answer to my invitation," said the
colonel.

" For my part, I do not think he will make his appear-
ance," observed the Earl of Curzon.

" Nor I," added Sir Douglas Huntingdon. " He must be
heartily ashamed of himself, no doubt."

" And would not like to face us, eh? " said the Marquis
of Leveson.

" He fears, perhaps, a terrible bantering," observed the
prince regent.

" It is now half -past six," said the colonel, consulting his
watch; " and that is the time named in the note of invita-
tion. Shall I order dinner to be served up? "

But ere the prince, to whom the question was put, had
time to answer, the door was again thrown open, and the
servant announced Mr. Horace Sackville.

CHAPTER IX

THE BANQUET

VENETIANS husband advanced into the room with the
easy assurance and calm self-possession of good breeding,
and as if there were nothing peculiar either in his own
position or in the circumstances of the present occasion.
Having paid his respects to Colonel Malpas, who could very
well have dispensed with his company, Horace turned toward
the prince, and his Royal Highness shook him with all his
wonted cordiality by the hand. The Marquis of Leveson and
Sir Douglas Huntingdon were equally warm in their greet-
ings; whereas the Earl of Curzon was not only somewhat
cold and distant, but likewise suffered a partial sneer to
curl his lips as he spoke. Sackville did not, however, seem
to notice this manifestation of ill-feeling, but, turning again
toward the others, he proceeded to discourse, without
constraint or embarrassment, upon the principal topics of
the day.

In a few minutes the domestic announced that dinner
was served, and the party repaired to the banqueting-room.

The repast was of the most succulent description, fully
equalling that of which the same company had partaken
at Lord Leveson's. The wines were of the first quality, and
the dessert was not less commendable to the tastes of the
convivialists. During the banquet not a word was spoken
in reference to the object of the meeting, and not an allusion
made to it. But the discourse was sustained, as if by a
common consent, on a variety of other subjects. Never-
theless, everybody did in his heart feel that unless these
efforts were made to support the conversation uninter-
ruptedly, the damp of constraint would speedily fall upon
their spirits. As for Colonel Malpas, he drank large quantities

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98 THE COURT OF LONDON

of wine in order to keep up an artificial gaiety; but the
nearer the moment arrived for the grand act in the drama,
the more nervous and apprehensive did he in reality
become.

At length the cloth was drawn, the dessert was placed
upon the table, and the domestics retired.

It was now about eight o'clock in the evening; and
Mr. Plumpstead, the butler, opening the front door, looked
up and down Great Marlborough Street, by the light of the
lamps. In a few minutes three persons descended from a
private carriage at a little distance; and, having directed
that the vehicle should wait for their return, they hurried
to the door at which the butler was standing.

These three persons were Venetia, Captain Tash, and his
man Robin.

The lady was elegantly dressed and looked enchantingly
beautiful, as if she had even derived a more brilliant love-
liness from matrimony. Captain Tash was in full evening
costume, with dress coat, white waistcoat and cravat, and
kid gloves. His aspect was uncommonly fierce as usual, but
blended therewith was an air of supreme importance.
As for Robin, he was decently attired; but the purple robes
of Napoleon could not have imparted dignity to his shambling
gait and sneaking looks.

" Hush! " said the butler, putting his finger to his lips
in a knowing manner, the instant Venetia and her two com-
panions ascended the steps; "it is all right. Mr. Sackville
has told me of your coming, and he's a real gentleman.
He wouldn't owe two years and a half's wages to a poor
butler, I'll be bound." "

Having somewhat relieved his feelings by this indirect
cut at his master, Mr. Plumpstead admitted Venetia, Captain
Tash, and Robin into the house, gently closing the front
door.

" Now, ma'am, what can I do for you next? " he inquired
of Venetia. " Mr. Sackville has done what's right toward
me."

" He has proposed to take you into his service? " said
Venetia.

" He has, ma'am; and therefore I already regard you as
my missus."

" Can you manage to leave the dining-room door a little

THE BANQUET 99

ajar," inquired Venetia, " so that I may overhear what
takes place within? "

" Certainly, ma'am," responded Plumpstead. " Be so
good as to remain here quite quiet; there's no fear of any
one coming out of the dining-room, and if any of the other
servants should see you in the hall, they won't say a word.
I've given them a hint upon the subject."

Thus speaking, Plumpstead cast a glance upon the hall
table in search of some object which should furnish a pretext
for entering the dining-room; and taking up a crystal jug,
filled with water, he threw his napkin half-round it in the
true butler-fashion, and carried it in. As he placed it upon
the table, Colonel Malpas said, " You need not come in
any more until I ring."

" Very good, sir," replied Plumpstead; and he paused
for a few instants to open a large screen and draw it around
the door, apparently to keep out the draught, but in
reality to hide the door itself.

Then, issuing from the room, he caused the door to sound
as if it were being shut, whereas he left it ajar. Captain
Tash, Venetia, and Robin were thus enabled to overhear in
the hall whatever took place in the dining-room.

The critical moment had now arrived for Colonel Malpas
to carry out the daring scheme which he had concocted;
and when it became evident that he was about to rise and
speak, the looks of his guests were fixed upon him with an
expression of intense interest.

Tossing off a bumper of port, he rose and said, " May
it please your Royal Highness, and you, my lords and
gentlemen, it would ill become me to act as chairman or
president at a meeting in which I am about to perform a
somewhat prominent part. I therefore suggest that our
esteemed treasurer, the Marquis of Leveson, shall preside
over our proceedings."

" A very excellent suggestion," observed the prince
regent. " Of course you all agree. Good! Come, take
the chair, Leveson."

Colonel Malpas accordingly resigned his seat at the head
of the table to the marquis, and took the one which this
nobleman had hitherto occupied next to the prince regent.

" Now," said Lord Leveson, as he drew forth his pocket-
book and counted down six bank-notes, each for a thousand

100 THE COURT OF LONDON

pounds, afterward placing a purse full of gold upon them,
" here are the six thousand guineas which I have held as
treasurer, and which I am prepared to pay into the hands
of the fortunate individual who shall prove his right and title
to the same, according to the terms of our compact. But
I must observe, as your chairman, that I hope our pro-
ceedings will be conducted with the utmost good-humour,
and that each and all will preserve a calm temper, no matter
what may transpire."

" A bumper to ratify that most judicious sentiment! "
exclaimed the dissipated Sir Douglas Huntingdon.

" And now," resumed the Marquis of Leveson, when the
glasses had been filled and emptied, " it becomes my painful
duty to ask our young and esteemed friend, Mr. Sackville,
whether, as the husband of the lady whose name will have
to be mentioned presently, and whose image is doubtless
in all our minds, he has any remark to make ere our proceed-
ings continue any further? "

" For the moment I have only a suggestion to offer,"
replied Horace, speaking in a firm tone; " which is, that
your lordship shall take the names in the order they issued
from the ballot, and each shall answer yea or nay, as
explanatory of the result of his suit in respect to the lady
alluded to."

" Be it so," said the Marquis of Leveson; " and I think
the suggestion is a good one. According to the ballot, the
names stood in the following order: Monday, the Earl of
Curzon; Tuesday, Sir Douglas Huntingdon; Wednesday,
Colonel Malpas; Thursday, the prince regent; Friday,
the Marquis of Leveson; Saturday, Mr. Sackville. Accord-
ing, then, to this category, I call upon the Earl of Curzon to
speak first."

" I am bound to admit, frankly and candidly," replied
this nobleman, " that I experienced no success in the matter
alluded to."

" Sir Douglas Huntingdon! " exclaimed the Marquis of
Leveson.

" With equal frankness and candour, I declare that I
was as unsuccessful as Lord Curzon," answered the baronet.

" Colonel Malpas! " exclaimed the marquis.

" My lord," said that individual, rising from his chair,
and speaking in a voice which borrowed its calmness from

THE BANQUET 101

desperation, " I am bound, however painful the announce-
ment may be to any friend present, — and seeing the
peculiar nature of the circumstances which were initiated
in an after-dinner frolic, I hope there will be no loss of
friendship on this account, — I am bound, I say, to declare
that the result of my campaign made me for the time being
the happiest of men."

Having thus spoken, the colonel resumed his chair and
immediately tossed off a bumper of wine.

" Let the names be called to the end of the list," said
Horace Sackville, whose face was white as a sheet, but
whose voice was nevertheless marked by a firm decision.

" Be it so," exclaimed the Marquis of Leveson. " The
prince regent! "

" On my honour, as a man and a gentleman, setting aside
my rank for the present," returned his Royal Highness,
" I cannot boast of having been blessed with the favours
of the lady alluded to."

The Earl of Curzon and Sir Douglas Huntingdon exchanged
rapid looks, expressive of surprise at this announcement,
the truth of which they could not doubt; they therefore
both fell back upon the belief that Captain Tash must have
deceived them in his representation of Venetia's visit to
Carlton House.

" My own name stands next upon the list," said the
Marquis of Leveson, " and my explanation is precisely the
same as that already given by his Royal Highness." Then
after a moment's pause, he observed, with a half-smile,
" Mr. Sackville, am I to call upon you? "

" Most assuredly," returned Horace, his cheeks now
slightly flushing, and his voice remaining imperturbably
calm. " I wooed Venetia — and I won her. She is my wife.
But if Colonel Malpas can prove that previously to our
wedding-day he succeeded in obtaining the favours of her
whom I have thus made my wife, I cannot possibly, under
the very peculiar circumstances of the case, be offended
with him. Seeing, however, that so far as I am concerned
a love-campaign which commenced as an after-dinner frolic
has terminated in the most serious and solemn manner
for myself, — namely in marriage, — I hope that Colonel
Malpas will not stand forward to blast the reputation of my
wife without having irrefragable evidence to produce in

102 THE COURT OF LONDON

support of his assertion; and I likewise hope that you,
whom I now address, will not consider that the present
scene is nothing more than another act in the same after-
dinner farce, but that you will treat the matter with all
the solemnity and seriousness that should characterize a
jury of honourable men."

There was a tone of deep feeling in this speech which
produced a visible effect upon all present; and the Earl of
Curzon, now that his heart was somewhat warmed by the
generous wine, was the very first to exclaim, " By Heaven,
Sackville, you shall have fair play! " This sentiment was
echoed by the prince regent, the Marquis of Leveson, and
Sir Douglas Huntingdon; while Malpas, whose heart was
sinking within his breast, tossed off two or three glasses of
wine in rapid succession.

But still sustained to a considerable degree by the courage
which often arises from the desperation of a neck-or-nothing
position, he rose from his seat amidst a profound silence,
and spoke as follows:

" Far be it from me to make a declaration of so serious
and solemn a nature as that which I have put forth without
being enabled to substantiate it. Hitherto we have all of
us been apt to deal lightly enough with the reputation of
women; and we should doubtless have continued to do so
in the present instance, were it not that the lady in question
has recently married one of our party, and that the husband
himself is present. I will make no lengthy comment upon
what I may term the imprudence, if not the actual indelicacy,
of Mr. Sackville appearing amongst us under existing cir-
cumstances; but I cannot help adding that whatever state-
ments he may now hear to shock his feelings, he himself to
some extent courts the feelings they are thus calculated to
excite."

He paused for a few instants; and those who glanced
furtively at Horace Sackville saw that he was evidently
labouring under the influence of emotions which he had
some little trouble to restrain. His cheeks had a hectic
flush, like that of fever, upon them, his eyes were fixed, but
unnaturally bright, and his lips were firmly compressed.
His whole appearance indicated the inevitable bursting
forth of a terrific storm; it was the volcano as yet sleeping,
but surrounded by the fever-heat that preludes an explosion.

THE BANQUET 103

" I will now proceed to my proofs," resumed Malpas,
who alone mistook Sackville's ominous looks and guarded
silence for the evidences of a crushed and broken spirit.
" You are aware that my day for the love-campaign was a
Wednesday. On the previous day I chanced to call upon
Lady Wenlock at Kew; and in the course of conversation
her ladyship mentioned that the most celebrated beauty of
the day, Miss Venetia Trelawney (as her name then was,
previously to her marriage), was to be at the horticultural
fete announced by her ladyship for the ensuing evening.
Having already received an invitation, I resolved to be
there. On the Wednesday morning I met Mr. Sackville
by accident, and told him I should be at the fete, in order
to avail myself thereof to procure an introduction to Miss
Trelawney. Mr. Sackville must remember the circum-
stance."

" Perfectly," said Horace, in a cold but untrembling voice.

" I did repair to that festival," continued the colonel,
" and I obtained the wished-for introduction to Miss Tre-
lawney, as she then was. I need not enter into particulars.
Suffice it to say that we walked together in a secluded avenue,
allowing the ladies who accompanied her — Mrs. and Miss
Arbuthnot, I believe — to proceed a considerable distance
ahead. My suit, which I pleaded passionately, was success-
ful, and Miss Trelawney gave me an appointment for the
ensuing Friday evening, at a place which I named."

" Friday evening! " ejaculated the Marquis of Leveson,
exchanging a rapid but meaning glance with the Prince of
Wales.

" Yes, the Friday evening," returned Malpas; " and
consequently before Mr. Sackville's marriage with the
lady, which marriage took place on the ensuing Wednesday.
One more word will suffice: Miss Trelawney met me on
the Friday evening alluded to at the house of Mrs. Gale in
Soho Square."

" At what o'clock? " inquired the Marquis of Leveson.

" At nine o'clock," responded Malpas.

" And how long did she remain with you at Mrs. Gale's? "
asked Lord Leveson, with another rapid, but now astonished
look, at the prince regent. " Let us have all the circum-
stances stated in detail and accurately recorded," he
observed, making notes in his pocketbook.

t

104 THE COURT OF LONDON

" Miss Trelawney remained with me at Mrs. Gale's from
nine until past eleven on that Friday evening," returned
Colonel Malpas.

" But the proof of this? " said the marquis, inquiringly.

" Here is Mrs. Gale's own certificate of the fact," answered
the colonel, tossing a folded paper toward the marquis.
" I have no more to say," and he resumed his seat.

The Marquis of Leveson opened the paper; and the
astonishment he already felt was enhanced when he recog-
nized Mrs. Gale's handwriting, which was perfectly familiar
to him. He had expected to find the document a forgery;
but there was no doubt it was genuine, although the circum-
stances detailed in it might not be true, for all that.

" Yes, this is Mrs. Gale's handwriting," he said. " I
know and can attest it."

He then read the paper, which set forth that Colonel
Malpas and Miss Venetia Trelawney (now Mrs. Sackville)
had passed two hours together at her establishment, between
nine and eleven o'clock, on the night of Friday, September
20, 1814.

Malpas now felt assured that his triumph was complete;
for Horace Sackville still remained silent and motionless,
with the fever spots burning upon his cheeks and his lips
quivering.

The marquis and the prince once more exchanged looks
of ineffable astonishment, as if uncertain what course to
pursue, and yet having it in their power to make some
startling revelations; while the Earl of Curzon whispered
hurriedly to Sir Douglas Huntingdon, " You see how that
rascal Tash deceived us both! "

But all on a sudden the door was thrown open with such
violence that the screen was nearly upset, and Venetia
herself, followed by Captain Tash, entered the room. Robin
was not, however, with them; he had been hastily despatched
on some errand, the nature of which will speedily transpire.

Nothing could exceed the grandeur of Venetia's beauty
at this moment. Her splendid form was drawn up to the
full of its noble height, and, as her carriage now seemed
statuesque as that of a sculptured Juno, by her shoulders
being thrown back and her head being held erect, her superb
bust displayed its ample development to the fullest advan-
tage. Upheaved in its luxuriant proportions, it seemed

THE BANQUET 105

ready to burst through the drapery that outlined its swelling
contours; while the glowing cheeks, flashing eyes, dilating
nostrils, and lips apart, threw the spell of an almost Olympian
majesty upon her transcending charms.

Every one present, save Sackville, started from his seat
as the beauteous lady and her formidable-looking companion
made their appearance; while Horace himself rose gently
and leisurely, his features now illumined with the radiance
of approaching triumph. As for Colonel Malpas, guilt and
cowardice were as legibly depicted upon his ashy cheeks
and in his affrighted looks as ever the words themselves were
printed on the page of a volume.

" Your Royal Highness, my lords, gentlemen," said
Venetia, in a tone which, though firm, was filled with all the
flutelike harmony of her soul-seeking voice, " you have
listened to the tale of accusation: now do me the justice
to hear the defence."

" Most assuredly! " exclaimed the prince regent. " My
lord," he added, turning toward Leveson, " whatever dis-
appointment you may have experienced relative to this
lady, justice must be done her. You are the chairman of
the meeting, and I know you will do your duty."

" Beyond all doubt," said the marquis, who was so dazzled
and overpowered by the enchanting loveliness and Juno-
like majesty of Venetia's appearance that he forgot all the
resentment excited by the scene which had occurred at his
own house, he no longer remembered the incidents of the
treacherous chair, but he felt suddenly inclined to do any-
thing or everything on behalf of that woman of superhuman
charms. " Let us all be seated," he exclaimed. " Horace,
hand your wife a chair, and Captain Tash — "

But the gallant officer had already dropped into a seat
and was stretching forth his hand to grasp the nearest
decanter, before the marquis had time to utter another
syllable. The captain likewise drew toward him three or
four dishes of cakes and fruits; and as he began to eat and
drink with as much coolness and absence of restraint as if
the house were his own, he said, " Go on, my lord; I can
always hear best when profitably employed."

Malpas made a last effort to assume an air of confidence;
and by way of conciliating the formidable captain, whom
he knew to be his enemy, but whose presence on this occasion

106 THE COURT OF LONDON

he could not account for, he said, " Make yourself at home,
and don't spare the wine."

" Mrs. Sackville," exclaimed the Marquis of Leveson,
" we are ready to hear you."

" It will be sufficient for me, my lord," answered Venetia,
" simply but emphatically to deny the calumnious aspersion
thrown upon me by Colonel Malpas. My husband is the
proper person to conduct my defence."

" First of all, then," said Horace Sackville, " I shall
request Captain Tash to state whatever he knows of the
interview between Colonel Malpas and my wife at Lady
Wenlock's."

"With much pleasure," observed the gallant officer,
filling a tumbler with port wine and draining it at a draught,
— for he contemptuously eschewed the paltry size of an
ordinary wine-glass. " On the particular Wednesday night
alluded to by Colonel Malpas, — for I must tell you that I
have been listening outside the door to everything he has
been saying, — myself and my man Robin, who is a faithful
creature, were concealed amongst the bushes in Lady Wen-
lock's grounds. Why we were there, doesn't matter," he
continued, darting a sly look at Lord Curzon and Sir Douglas
Huntingdon; "it is enough to state that we were there.
It is true that Mrs. Arbuthnot and her daughter walked on
in advance; but it is also true that Mrs. Sackville, as the
then Miss Trelawney now is, treated the colonel with mingled
scorn, contempt, raillery, and defiance, according to the
variations of language which he adopted toward her. He
hinted at some conspiracy that was set on foot against her,
and declared that his own most intimate friends were
engaged in it. He informed her that she was the object of
a wager on the part of some base and infamous voluptuaries.
Those were his very words. He heard a rustling in the
evergreens, and was startled. Ah! he little thought that
Rolando Tash," added the captain, with a look of terrible
ferocity upon the pale, trembling, and speechless colonel,
" was concealed in the evergreens, like — like — an owl in
an ivy-bush."

Here the gallant officer paused, and tossed off another
tumbler of port wine.

" Well, my lord," he continued, addressing himself to
the marquis, " the colonel proceeded to threaten Miss Tre-

THE BANQUET 107

lawney — Mrs. Sackville, I mean — in a frightful manner.
My hair, though well oiled and curling naturally, stood on
end. He told her that unless she yielded to his wishes, he
would persecute her by all manner of means, destroy her
reputation, whisper to one and breathe in the ears of another
that she was his mistress, ay, and even forge letters with
her name appended, to prove his tale. He gave her two
weeks to deliberate — "

" Enough, Captain Tash," said Lord Leveson. " I think,"
he added, glancing around the table, " that we need not
allow Mrs. Sackville's ears to be offended with a further
recapitulation of these atrocities."

" Certainly not," exclaimed the prince regent, red with
indignation. " Sit down, Tash, like a good fellow, and
drink your wine."

" Here's a bumper, then, to your Royal Highness," said
the captain, refilling his tumbler and tossing off the contents.
" And inasmuch as my lord marquis is an excellent chair-
man, I drink a bumper to him also," suiting the action to
the word. " And forasmuch as we have a beautiful lady
present, I drink a bumper to her health in particular and
that of the sex in general, for I don't know what the devil
we should do without them." Then, having drained the
tumbler and refilling it, he observed, " But it would be bad
manners on my part not to drink to the other lords and
gentlemen present — "

How long Captain Tash would have gone on with his
succession of bumpers and healths, it is difficult to say;
but he was suddenly interrupted by the entrance of Robin,
leading in Mrs. Gale of Soho Square.

A half-stifled groan now burst from the lips of Colonel
Malpas, who saw that no chance remained for him, but that
every available incident had been pressed into the service
of his opponents. Discomfited, crushed, almost annihilated,
he sat ghastly and trembling in his chair, unable to speak
a word, a wretched, wretched example of mingled guilt,
cowardice, and despair.

Mrs. Gale was evidently much frightened at being brought
into the presence of this formidable conclave; and Robin
whispered to Captain Tash that if he had not menaced her
with a constable, she would not have come at all. She now
confessed, after some hesitation, and with many prayers

108 THE COURT OF LONDON

for pardon, that she had been induced to draw up and sign
the certificate, which was dictated by Colonel Malpas, on
condition of receiving the immediate payment of a sum
of money owing to her by him. She added that the certifi-
cate was not drawn up on the day specified by the date, but
some days later; and she admitted that Mrs. Sackville had
never visited her establishment at all. She was then per-
mitted to retire.

But scarcely had she left the room, when the footman
entered to inform Colonel Malpas that he was wanted for
a moment on very particular business.

" You must come back immediately, sir," exclaimed the
Marquis of Leveson, sternly.

The colonel murmured a faint " Yes," and hastily quitted
the room in a state of mind not even enviable by a person
about to be hanged.

On stepping into the hall, he was confronted by two
individuals whose looks proclaimed their errand. One
was a person of the Hebrew nation, with a cutaway coat,
knee-breeches, and top-boots. He wore a spotted necker-
chief with an enormous pin, a bunch of gold seals dangled
from his fob, and his silk handkerchief hung half-way out of
his coat pocket. His companion was a stout, elderly, shabby
man, carrying a huge stick, or rather bludgeon. He wore a
greatcoat buttoned over his chest, a white hat with a mourn-
ing band, and very clumsy boots.

Malpas, upon finding himself face to face with these wor-
thies, clenched his fists in a paroxysm of rage; and then,
as the Hebrew gentleman produced a writ, the miserable
colonel staggered back and sank upon a chair.

" Five tousand guinish ish de sum, and tree guinish ish
de expensh, colonel," said the bailiff, for such he was. " Dis
leetle writ ish at de shoot of Mishter Emmershon. My name
ish Ikey — Moshes Ikey, at your servish; and my housh
ish in Fetter Lane. Tom, keep de door."

" All right," growled the bailiff's man, planting his back
against the front door.

" Thunder and lightning! " roared Captain Tash, now
bursting forth from the dining-room, inside the door of which
he had been listening to what was passing in the hall, " the
colonel's going to quod, but he must not escape condign
punishment. You sneaking, paltry, cowardly villain! "

THE BANQUET 109

he exclaimed, springing toward Malpas and seizing him by
the nose, " you are the greatest cur and the clumsiest villain
I ever knew in all my life ! So take that — and that — and
this — and this — and that — and that! "

And, suiting the actions to the words, the redoubtable
Rolando dragged the shrieking, yelling colonel ignominiously
by the nose around the hall, bestowing upon him sundry
boxes on the ears and sidelong kicks on the breech by way
of chastisement. Then suddenly releasing his victim, Captain
Tash gave him one parting kick which sent him flying across
the hall and ultimately sprawling on the door-mat.

The whole party, Venetia excepted, had in the meantime
crowded at the entrance of the dining-room to witness
this scene, which excited peals of laughter; and when it was
over, they returned to their seats, Captain Tash resuming
his own chair and addressing himself again to the fruit and
wine as calmly and composedly as if nothing had happened.

Then, while Colonel Malpas, crushed and confounded, was
taking his departure in company with Mr. Moses Ikey and
his man Tom, the Marquis of Leveson said, " We had
better conclude our business at once and leave the house of
a vile impostor as soon as we can."

" But where is Robin? " inquired Sackville. " Surely
we may offer him a glass of wine? "

"Oh, there he is," observed Tash, coolly; and as every
eye was directed toward the point indicated by the gallant
officer, a portion of Robin's form and the tip of his nose were
seen betwixt the opening of the window-curtains.

It was with great difficulty he could be persuaded to come
forth and drink some wine; and when he had tossed off the
contents of a glass which Sackville handed him, he glided
back again to his lurking-place, now completely disappearing
behind the curtains.

" We have heard an infamous accusation triumphantly
refuted," said the Marquis of Leveson; " and if further
evidence had been required on behalf of Mrs. Sackville, his
Royal Highness and myself could have supplied it. For on
that very Friday night which the coward scoundrel and vile
cheat named as the period of his alleged success, and between
the specified hours of nine and eleven, his Royal Highness and
I can declare that we were each honoured by a visit from Mrs.
Sackville, then Miss Trelawney; and we both emphatically

110 THE COURT OF LONDON

repeat what we proclaimed ere now, that we had neither of
us any reason to imitate the presumptuous assertions of
Colonel Malpas."

" My lord/' said Venetia, her voice now sounding tremu-
lously for the first time since she had entered the room,
" I have every reason to thank you for the noble candour and
impartiality with which you have conducted these proceed-
ings." Then, her countenance suddenly lighting up with
the irradiation of good-humoured archness, she observed,
as she rose from her seat, " Permit me to express a hope
that the next time you agree to lay wagers relative to the
result of a love-campaign, you will take care whom you
admit into the compact and trust with the secret. Other-
wise you may chance to be dishonoured by the companion-
ship of another Colonel Malpas."

Having thus spoken with a charming air of good-natured
remonstrance, she bowed and moved toward the door.
The Prince of Wales instantaneously sprang forward to
open it for her; and as Venetia passed him, he whispered,
tenderly, " Does our compact hold good, my angel? "

" It does," she replied, in her softest tone. " Next Monday
evening, nine o'clock, Carlton House."

And darting upon him a look of profound meaning, she
issued from the room. The prince, scarcely able to conceal
the joy inspired by this response, returned to his seat; and
as the screen had hidden Venetia and himself from the view
of the assembled guests during that hurried interchange of
whispers, the circumstance passed unnoticed.

" We have now," said the Marquis of Leveson, " but
one more matter of business to dispose of, and that is to
decide who has won the sweepstakes of six thousand guineas.
I think there cannot be a doubt upon the subject; and with
your concurrence, my friends, I shall hand over the amount
to Mr. Horace Sackville."

This proposal was agreed to, and the bank-notes, to-
gether with the purse of sovereigns, were passed around the
table to Venetia's husband.

Horace consigned the notes to his pocket, saying, '
thank you all for helping me to a wife and a fortune. As for
this purse, I must beg Captain Tash to accept it."

" It is in the nature of gifts that I never refuse," ex-
claimed the gallant officer. " And now," he continued, rising

THE BANQUET 111

from his seat and lifting a tumbler of wine to his lips, " I
must drink to the health of my friend, Mr. Sackville, and
long life to him! But as it would be rude not to pay my
respects to Sir Douglas Huntingdon," he went on to say,
refilling the tumbler he had just emptied, " I must drink
to his health." Then, after draining the glass, and while
replenishing it, he added, " Likewise the Right Honourable
the Earl of Curzon; " and after another brief pause, during
which he poured the draught down his capacious throat, he
said, " Forasmuch as there is but another tumblerful in
the decanter, it would be a pity not to dispose of it to advan-
tage, and so I will drink it to the health of any whom such
health may concern."

The prince, the Marquis of Leveson, the earl, and Sir
Douglas had all drunk quite enough to be in a humour to
laugh heartily at Captain Tash's freaks; nor was Horace,
though far more temperate, and indeed perfectly sober,
inclined to be less jovial on the occasion. But so soon as
the gallant officer had exhausted all the wine as well as
his catalogue of excuses for disposing of it, Sackville bade his
friends good night and left the room. Venetia was waiting
for him in another apartment, to which the accommodating
butler had shown her; and before the newly married couple
took their departure in the carriage that was waiting for
them, they informed Mr. Plumpstead that he might enter
their service at Acacia Cottage on the morrow.

The carriages of the other guests were soon announced,
the party broke up, and when Mrs. Malpas returned home
from her plebeian relatives in the City, she heard that her
husband had been soundly thrashed in the first place and
taken away to a sponging-house afterward.

CHAPTER X

THE TRIAL

ON the morning that succeeded the incidents just related,
the court-house of the Old Bailey was thronged to excess;
for Mr. Paul Dysart was to stand his trial on the charge
of feloniously killing and slaying the Honourable George
Sefton. A second count in the indictment accused him of
fighting a duel and thereby breaking his Majesty's peace, —
although, be it observed, his Majesty was a hopeless lunatic
at the time and much more likely to break the peace himself
than preserve it. Such, however, was the legal fiction and
phraseology; and Mr. Dysart was arraigned accordingly.

His wife, Lady Ernestina, was not in court; but she was
close at hand, — indeed, warming herself comfortably by
the fire in the drawing-room of the governor of Newgate.
She was a lady of rank, and was therefore thus courteously
treated by the governor. Had she been a poor man's wife,
she would have had to stand all day in the open street, or else
at the public-house opposite the court, unless, indeed, she
had chosen to be present during the trial.

But while the fiction of the so-called British Constitution
declares that all persons are equal in the eye of the law, the
administrators, functionaries, and officials of the law take
very good care that such shall not be the case. Thus,
inasmuch as several of the witnesses engaged in the present
case were of aristocratic birth, they were accommodated with
seats upon the bench; and Lord Herbert, the principal
witness, sat next to the recorder and chatted familiarly with
him while the clerk was swearing the jury. Now, had the
witnesses been costermongers or tinkers, or any other indi-
viduals belonging to the working class, they would not have
dared approach the sacred limit of the judicial bench.

112

THE TRIAL 113

Moreover, as Mr. Dysart had married into an aristocratic
family, he was accommodated with a chair in the dock ; and
the turnkey who had charge of him was desired by the
governor not to stand too near " the unfortunate gentle-
man." We may also observe that during the whole trial he
was never spoken of, either by judge, counsel, or witnesses,
otherwise than as Mr. Dysart; whereas, had he been a work-
ing man, the said judge, counsel, and witnesses would not
have thought of speaking of him otherwise than as the
prisoner, or the accused. Such a fortunate thing is it to be
either rich or else connected with the aristocracy in this
country!

Ah! poor working men, sons and daughters of toil, pro-
ducers of everything and consumers of almost nothing,
ye scarcely seem to know how utterly, completely, and
entirely ye are oppressed, enslaved, and trampled upon by
the arrogant, indolent, and tyrannical aristocracy.

Mr. Dysart, on entering the dock, bowed politely to the
judge and jury, and then seated himself with an air of con-
fidence and composure; for he felt assured that even if the
jury should find him guilty of the most aggravated charge,
and the bench should thereupon doom him to death, the
prince regent would accord him a full pardon. He was
therefore comparatively easy in his mind, looking upon the
present ordeal as a great annoyance, but by no means as a
predicament of terrible danger.

The jury having been sworn, and the recorder having fin-
ished laughing at the joke which Lord Herbert had just
whispered in the judicial ear, the trial commenced. The
attorney-general appeared to prosecute; and he contented
himself with a mere outline of the case, very considerately
abstaining from emphasis on the strongest points, and
putting the weakest prominently forward, as if he were
actually furnishing the jury with an excuse to acquit the
prisoner. But on the previous day he had prosecuted a
working man for sedition; and then how he exaggerated
every minute detail and by his eloquence invested the feeblest
point with an overwhelming power to crush the accused!
But Mr. Dysart had married the niece of the Marquis of
Leveson, and so the attorney-general did not wish to send
him to the scaffold.

The law-officer having opened the case, Lord Herbert was

114 THE COURT OF LONDON

sworn as a witness. He did not leave his place on the bench
near the recorder, neither did he rise from his seat, but gave
his evidence as comfortably as if lounging in his own drawing-
room. He was a tall, thin man, of about fifty-five years of
age, with iron-gray hair, and a sprawling, awkward, uncouth
figure. He was immensely vain, outrageously arrogant, fond
of hearing himself talk, and yet as empty-headed as lords
generally are. He had a habit of hesitating so much in his
speech that it seemed like a natural impediment, and made
it painful to listen to him. In fact, he was a shallow-pated
numskull; and if he had not been an aristocrat, would have
been written down an ass.

" I believe, my lord/' said the attorney-general, " you are
acquainted with Mr. Dysart, the gentleman whose case is
under investigation? "

" Haw — hem — ah — oh, yes, perfectly well acquainted
with Mr. Dysart," responded Lord Herbert, crossing one leg
over the other.

" And I believe your lordship gave a grand entertainment
to a party of noblemen and gentlemen in the beginning of
June, of the present year? "

" Hem — hah — haw — oh, yes, a dinner-party."

" At which Mr. Dysart was present? "

" Haw — ay — yes — haw — Mr. Dysart was present — •
he — haw."

" And the lamented deceased, the Honourable George
Sefton, was likewise of the party? "

"Eh — haw — hem — oh, yes — George Sefton — haw

— hem — was there."

" I believe that when the cloth was removed and the
dessert was placed upon the table, a dispute arose upon some
matter? "

" Oh — ah — hem — a dispute about Tantivy, the winner

— haw — of the Oaks — hem — and also about Old
Fogey, another crack racer — haw."

" And Mr. Dysart gave the Honourable George Sefton
the lie, I believe? "

" Hem — hah — yes — I'm afraid he did. Then, you
know, high words — hem — haw — ensued — and Mr. Dy-
sart flung a glass of wine in Sefton's face — haw — haw —
and Sefton flew into a rage — haw — and I don't know how
it was — haw — or how it came about exactly — hem —

THE TRIAL 115

hem — but pistols were talked of — and — and — and —
pistols were got — haw — haw — and then — yes, then — "

11 Pray don't hurry yourself, my lord," said the judge;
" there's plenty of time, and we have got the whole day
before us."

" Oh, certainly," observed the attorney-general. " Your
lordship was explaining, with your lordship's wonted clear-
ness and perspicuity, how pistols were obtained."

" Ah — yes — haw — truly," exclaimed the nobleman,
lolling back in his seat and running his fingers com-
plaisantly through his hair, which stood upright all over his
head. " Well, as I was saying, then — haw — he — haw —
it was proposed to fight — hem — hah — across the table,
and I believe — I'm afraid — hem — haw — I'm afraid
Mr. Dysart fired — hem — before the signal — haw — was
given. Sefton fell dead — haw — 'twas a bad business —
haw — and that's all I know — hem — of the matter."

And having thus given his evidence, Lord Herbert in-
dulged in a long yawn, stretching out his sprawling legs till
every joint cracked audibly.

Dysart's counsel rose to cross-examine the nobleman;
but the attorney-general threw a deprecatory look upon
him; and the barrister, fearful of giving offence to the great
law-officer as well as to the judge upon the bench, contented
himself by asking some trivial question just to save appear-
ances, and resumed his seat.

The Honourable George Macnamara, who sat next to Lord
Herbert, now gave his testimony to the following pur-
port:

" I remember the entertainment at my Lord Herbert's.
It was in the beginning of June. About twelve or fourteen
noblemen and gentlemen were present. I was one of the
guests, Mr. Dysart was another, and the Honourable George
Sefton was likewise there. A dispute arose relative to Tan-
tivy and Old Fogey. These horses both belonged to Mr.
Sefton ; and Mr. Dysart was understood to have bet heavily
upon them. From a word that Mr. Sefton let fall, Mr. Dysart
fancied that he did not mean the horses to run ; and he called
him a scoundrel and a cheat. Mr. Sefton called him a liar.
We were all pretty jolly — I may, indeed, say we were all
drunk. Lord Herbert was certainly not sober. Mr. Dysart
challenged Mr. Sefton to a duel across the table, and Lord

116 THE COURT OF LONDON

Herbert produced his pistols. Seconds were appointed,
and it was agreed that at a given signal the hostile parties
should fire. This took place in Lord Herbert's dining-room.
Mr. Dysart and Mr. Sefton received the pistols at the same
moment, and Mr. Dysart instantaneously discharged his
pistol pointblank at Mr. Sefton. The signal was not given
at all. Mr. Sefton uttered a cry, sprang straight up at least
a foot from the floor, and then dropped dead. I am bound
to say that Mr. Dysart, when he fired, exclaimed, ' Take
that, you young villain! ' or words to the same effect."

The Honourable George Macnamara, not being a peer,
was subjected to some little cross-examination; but his
testimony was not shaken in the slightest degree.

Lieutenant Apsley, who was also one of the party at Lord
Herbert's house, was next summoned as a witness; and he
not only corroborated Mr. Macnamara's evidence, but clearly
proved that Dysart could not possibly have fired in the mis-
taken belief that the signal was given. For this signal was
to consist of the words, " One — two — three," deliberately
uttered, and at the last word the duellists were to fire;
whereas Mr. Dysart had discharged his pistol before even
the first word of the signal was spoken.

Some other evidence was given, and the case for the prose-
cution closed.

The prisoner's counsel made as able a speech as the damna-
tory nature of the evidence and his own fears of offending
the " bigwigs " would allow; but he entirely glossed over
the startling fact which had come out in Macnamara's
evidence, namely, that Lord Herbert had supplied the pistols.
Not that the point would have helped Dysart's case at all;
still it was one which a conscientious barrister, unawed by
the frowns of the bench, would not have failed to touch upon.

Having concluded his speech, the counsel for the defence
called several witnesses to prove that Mr. Dysart was one of
the mildest, most forbearing, amiable, and good-tempered
men in the whole world; and inasmuch as the said witnesses
(none of whom had ever seen Dysart before in their lives)
had been paid ten pounds apiece to give him this brilliant
character, it must be allowed that they could not well
attribute to him fewer virtues considering how handsomely
they were remunerated for their trouble.

The attorney-general rose to reply. He began by remark-

THE TRIAL 117

ing that never in the whole course of his professional career
had it been his good fortune to listen to evidence so lucidly,
clearly, intelligibly, and impartially given as that of Lord
Herbert, — one of the brightest ornaments of that great and
glorious aristocracy which was the pride, the glory, and the
ornament of this free, happy, and enlightened country. It was
a pleasure (continued the attorney-general) to behold a man
of Lord Herbert's rank, leaving his sumptuous mansion at
the West End, and cheerfully coming down to a public
tribunal to further the ends and assist the aims of justice.
It had been stated in the evidence of Mr. Macnamara that
the party of noblemen and gentlemen assembled at Lord
Herbert's mansion on the melancholy occasion alluded to
had indulged somewhat freely in the use of the grape; but
surely a little excess in this manner was not to be wondered
at, when it was considered how heavily the legislative duties
attached to the noble lord's proud position as a peer of the
realm must at times press upon his lordship.

As the newspapers said next day, " the learned attorney-
general then went carefully over the evidence; " but so
carefully did the learned gentleman perform this part of his
duty that he pretty nearly told the jury, at least in terms
as plain as he dared venture upon, that they would do well
to acquit Mr. Dysart.

The learned recorder, who had been fast asleep during the
attorney-general's closing speech, now woke up; and, turning
to his notes, he proceeded to sum up the case to the jury.
Imitating the example of the prisoner's counsel and the
attorney-general, the learned judge made not the slightest
allusion to the fact that Lord Herbert had provided his own
pistols for the duellists, and had allowed so scandalous
a scene to take place at his own mansion and in his own
dining-room; much less did the learned recorder think of
telling this same Lord Herbert that he ought to have been
included in the indictment, as an accessory to the crime
for which the prisoner was then in the presence of the jury.
No such thing. But the judge did also imitate the attorney-
general by travelling out of his way to eulogize Lord Herbert
in particular and the aristocracy in general; and he further
took a leaf out of the attorney-general's book by hinting that
the best thing the jury could do would be to acquit Mr.
Dysart.

118 THE COURT OF LONDON

The jury, however, seemed to take quite a different view
of the matter; so that without much deliberation, and also
without leaving the box, they returned a verdict of wilful
murder against Paul Dysart.

Every eye was turned upon the prisoner to behold how
he received the record which heralded the crowning act in
the drama, namely, the condemnation to death. A sudden
pallor overspread his features, as if a spasm convulsed him
at the moment ; but the next instant he was calm, collected,
and confident as before. It was at first a frightful shock to
be found guilty of murder, the bare mention of which terrible
word was enough to make the gallows and all the dread
paraphernalia of death spring up before his startled imagina-
tion; but this feeling was promptly relieved by the recollec-
tion that his wife held a document which could compel the
prince regent to open the doors of his dungeon and recall
him forth to freedom.

The recorder put on the black cap, and in the usual
stereotyped form of verbiage pronounced the awful sentence
of the law, which was that Paul Dysart should be taken back
to the place whence he came, and thence to a place of execu-
tion, where he should be hung by the neck until he was dead;
and the recorder concluded by expressing a hope that the
Lord would have mercy upon his soul.

Execrable imposture! vile barbarism! diabolical iniquity !
Man proves merciless in his vengeance, and yet hopes that
God will be merciful. But should not man follow the
example of this Almighty Power whom he invokes?

It was now four o'clock in the afternoon. Dysart was
conveyed back to Newgate, the recorder went to dine with
Lord Herbert, the common-sergeant took his place upon the
bench, and the trial of petty felons occupied the rest of the
evening. The crowd dispersed, each individual remarking
to his friend, " I wonder when he will be hung."

Meantime the governor of Newgate proceeded to his
drawing-room, where Lady Ernestina was seated; and, inas-
much as it suited her purpose to manifest the deepest anxiety
relative to the result of the trial, he fancied it to be incum-
bent upon him to break the tidings as gently as possible.
Then she fell into a strong fit; and when she had performed
this little piece of tragedy, she wildly demanded to see
her dear, dear husband!

THE TRIAL 119

The governor accordingly conducted Lady Ernestina to
Dysart's cell; and precipitating herself into his arms, she
lavished upon him the tenderest caresses. The governor
retired; and then the lady grew calmer. Dysart was com-
pletely deceived by her manner, her words, her looks, and her
tears; and he fancied she experienced a return of all that
enthusiastic affection which had formerly induced her to
become his wife.

" I don't altogether deserve so much kindness at your
hands, Ernestina," he said; " but I'll make up for the past
when once I am out of this cursed place. Don't cry, the
annoyance and vexation are only temporary — "

" But to think that such a dreadful sentence should ever
have been passed! " exclaimed Ernestina, with a simulation
of the profoundest emotion.

" Well, we were not altogether unprepared for it, — at
least I was not," said her husband; " and, thank Heaven,
you have got a talisman which will speedily open these
prison doors. Ah! how surprised the prince will be to find
that the lady of his romantic adventure at Beechy Manor
is none other than the niece of his intimate friend the Marquis
of Leveson! "

" And when shall I communicate with his Royal High-
ness? " asked Ernestina. " Since I have returned to my
uncle's residence, he has not once called."

" You must see the prince to-morrow, Ernestina," said
Dysart, impressively. " There is no time to be lost. The
recorder will make his report next week."

" Yes, I will see the prince to-morrow, if possible,"
observed Lady Dysart. " Shall I go to Carlton House, or
write and beg an interview? "

" Whichever you think advisable. But of course his Royal
Highness can do nothing officially until after he has received
the recorder's report; before that report is made, the prince
is supposed to know nothing of the case. But privately it
will be as well not only to prepare him for what he will
have to do, but also to exact from him a promise that
he will comply with the terms of the solemn compact he has
signed."

" Yes, I will see him to-morrow, Paul," said Ernestina j
" and afterward, if it be not too late, I will hasten hither
with the particulars of our interview."

129 THE COURT OF LONDON

" And if it should be too late to-morrow evening, you will
come early on the following day? " said Dysart, interroga-
tively.

"Ah! I shall be only too glad to bring you good news,"
she answered, apparently with much emotion. " But the
result cannot be otherwise, for the prince regent must and
shall fulfil the terms of his compact."

" It rests only with you to compel him," observed Dysart.
Then, in a solemn tone, he added, " Remember, Ernestina,
my life is in your hands."

" And I will save it," she exclaimed, flinging herself into
his arms.

She then took leave of her husband; and as she returned
in a hackney-coach to Leveson House in Albemarle Street,
she said to herself, " All suspicion on his part is lulled asleep;
he places the fullest confidence in me, and I must manage to
retain it until the very last."

Then, as she threw herself back in the vehicle, she felt a
cold shudder thrill through her form at the thought that if
her plans were carried out with success, the ground which
she had just passed over in the Old Bailey would in a few
short days be covered with a densely packed multitude to
witness the crowning catastrophe in Dysart's career; but,
angry with herself the next moment for giving way to what
she deemed a weakness, she murmured, " Yes, it is neces-
sary; I must be rid of this demon whom I conjured up
to torment me. Ah! it is the tenderest love which turns
to the bitterest hatred and seeks for the most terrible
vengeance."

On arriving in Albemarle Street Ernestina was informed
that her uncle the marquis was engaged with Mrs. Owen
of Richmond ; and she was therefore compelled to wait till this
lady had taken her departure, before she could see Lord
Leveson. We may observe that Ernestina knew nothing
of the conspiracy that had been hatched against the Princess
of Wales, and in which the three oldest Misses Owen were
engaged; and she therefore attributed her uncle's intimacy
with the mother of those young ladies to an affair of gal-
lantry.

The marquis and Mrs. Owen remained in private discussion
together for nearly an hour; and at the expiration of this
interval, when the lady had taken her departure, Ernestina

THE TRIAL 121

had an opportunity of communicating to her noble uncle
the result of the trial at the Old Bailey.

" Now, then, Ernestina," he said, with a look of deep
meaning, " you will be enabled to carry out your projects,
as you have explained them to me."

" I shall, my dear uncle," she responded; " but they
will require the utmost tact and caution, and I must continue
to play the hypocrite toward Dysart with such consummate
skill — "

" Which you will be enabled to do, Ernestina," added
the marquis, who seemed to be in a desperate hurry about
something. " But I must leave you to work out these
schemes by yourself, for I am compelled to undertake a
journey to France."

" To France! " exclaimed Lady Dysart, in astonish-
ment.

" Yes, and without delay, too, on very important business
indeed," said the marquis. " I have ordered my travelling-
carriage and shall depart in an hour, the moment I have
eaten a mouthful of dinner."

" You will travel all night, then? " said Ernestina. " It
is now past seven o'clock."

" Yes, I shall travel without stopping to Dover, where
I hope to arrive at about three in the morning. I can then
snatch a few hours' sleep, and sail by the packet-boat at ten
or eleven. Let us sit down to dinner, then, for I am sure
you must be in want of refreshment after so exciting and
disagreeable a day."

" Not disagreeable as to the result of the trial," observed
Lady Dysart, significantly.

The uncle and niece now repaired to the dining-room,
where they continued their discourse as they partook of
the repast, until a domestic announced that the travelling-
carriage was in readiness. The marquis then took an affec-
tionate leave of his niece, in whose hands he placed a cheque
for a sum of money to meet her wants during his absence;
and in a few minutes he was whirled as rapidly away as
four post-horses and a lightly constructed vehicle could
bear him.

Ernestina remained alone in the dining-room, pondering
upon the various circumstances which had occurred within
the last few weeks, and revolving in her mind the plans and

122 THE COURT OF LONDON

projects which they had been so fertile in suggesting. In
this manner an hour slipped away, and the clock had struck
nine, when a footman entered to announce that a person
wished to speak to her ladyship upon a matter of some
importance.

" A person! Who is it? " she ejaculated, impatiently.

" A man, your ladyship; but he refuses to give his name
or state his business."

" Perhaps it is the marquis whom he wants."

" No, my lady; I told him that his lordship had just left
London, and he said it was to your ladyship he wished to
speak."

" Then show him in," exclaimed Ernestina, wondering
who the individual could be.

The domestic bowed and withdrew, but almost immedi-
ately returned, ushering in a man dressed in a coarse style,
with a great thick coat, a neckerchief drawn up to his
mouth, and a broad-brimmed hat in his hand. The servant
retired, the man advanced, and as the light fell upon his
features, Ernestina instantaneously recognized the individual
who had dug the grave for her paramour.

CHAPTER XI

UNPLEASANT VISITORS

A COLD chill fell upon the lady, as if her flesh had suddenly
come in contact with the slimy coils of a serpent, and the
colour fled from her cheeks. She was struck as if with an
omen of evil, for the appearance of this man, whom she only
knew by the name of Jones, and which name she believed
to be an assumed one, was indeed but too well calculated
of itself, apart from any repugnant associations connected
with him, to arouse a mortal terror in her soul.

" What do you want? What do you require? " she de-
manded, in a voice that was nearly suffocated by her emo-
tions.

" I just want to have a few words with your ladyship,
that's all," said the man; and advancing toward the fire,
he coolly and deliberately took a seat.

Ernestina fell back in the chair from which she had started
on his entrance; but composing herself as well as she was
able, she made a sign for him to continue.

" Your husband, ma'am — I mean your ladyship's
husband," he resumed, endeavouring to give his hangdog
countenance an insinuating look, " has got himself into a
precious scrape, and if he don't mind he'll be a croaker before
ten days are over."

" But what do you want with me? " demanded Ernestina,
impatiently.

" I'll explain myself all in good time," he continued.
" If you're in a hurry, I'm not particularly so — and there's
the difference. Besides, you shouldn't look so precious
glum at an old acquaintance. I suppose you know it was
me that got up the expedition that night when the prince and
the marquis were taken to the manor; and of course you

123

124 THE COURT OF LONDON

know it was me that dug the grave at the Blackheath villa.
Well, I was treated like a genelman by your ladyship's
husband; he paid me handsome, and now I want to serve
him. That's the object of my business."

" But who are you? " demanded Ernestina, who had
shuddered visibly when the wretch alluded to the digging
of the grave.

" Ah! I recollect," exclaimed the man. " Mr. Dysart
told me when I was at Beechey Manor that you only knew
me by the name of Jones. Nevertheless, my name is no
more Jones than your ladyship's is; and as there's no use for
any disguise or concealment that I can see, I may as well
explain to you at once that my proper name is Dan'el
Coffin — '7

" What! the public executioner! " cried the miserable
lady, springing to her feet and gazing upon the man with
horror depicted upon her countenance. Then, as the account
of the burglary at Mrs. Owen's, which she had read in the
newspapers, flashed to her mind, she instantaneously under-
stood the circumstances in which Daniel Coffin had
sought refuge at Beechey Manor with the pseudonym of
Jones.

" Don't alarm yourself, ma'am/' said Coffin, with im-
perturbable coolness; " I ain't come to hang you. But
pray sit down again; you see I make myself at home, because
I want to speak to you on very particular business, and the
more you won't hear me, the longer you'll keep me."

Struck by the truth of this remark, and anxious to get
rid of her dreadful visitor as soon as possible, Ernestina
reseated herself, and again made a hurried motion for him
to continue.

" Well, my lady," resumed Coffin, " as I was observing
just now, Mr. Dysart has got into a precious hobble, and as
the recorder will make his report at the beginning of next
week, it will be all dickey with your husband ten days hence
if so be nothing's done in the meantime. Now as I've
watched Old Bailey cases for some years past, and am pretty
familiar with 'em, I can tell your ladyship that there's no
hope of a reprieve, much less of pardon, seeing the jury
didn't recommend him to mercy. It's clear, then, — and
there's no use in deceiving oneself, — that he'll be scragged
on Monday week; and so, as I've a great respect for him, I

UNPLEASANT VISITORS 125

want to know what you'll give if I help him to escape out
of Newgate."

" Escape! " cried Ernestina, recoiling from the bare idea
of a result which would fatally frustrate all her plans.

" Ah! you may well be astonished at such a proposal,
ma'am," said Coffin, entirely mistaking the cause of her sud-
den start and emphatic exclamation. " But I don't think
it's altogether impossible. At least it's worth while to have
a try for it. You see that as your husband's a genelman
and connected with the aristocracy, he will be allowed
many indulgences which poor devils in trouble couldn't
obtain for either love or money; and as you can visit him
without being searched, you can easily take him a file and
a jimmy. A jimmy, ma'am, is a small crowbar, — a very
handy thing at times, as genelmen of the crack and pannie .
profession well know. It's the best thing to open a shop
with, ma'am, a capital stock in trade, as one may say, for
an enterprising individual anxious to set hisself up in busi-
ness. Well, my lady, if Mr. Dysart can get out of the con-
demned crib and manage to reach the roof of the Stone Jug,
or even let himself into one of the yards, I could have a party
of leary chaps all in readiness outside to help him to do the
rest; and then, a post-chaise and four spanking horses being
close at hand — "

" I thank you," interrupted Ernestina, who had listened
thus far with the tortures of impatience, " but your proposal
cannot be accepted. My uncle, the Marquis of Leveson,
has written a strong and appealing letter to the prince regent
on my unfortunate husband's behalf, and I have every hope
and confidence therein. But should Mr. Dysart endeavour to
escape and be caught in the fact, all chance of reprieve or
pardon would be frustrated. I shall give you five guineas for
your trouble in calling upon me — "

But scarcely had Ernestina taken out her purse as she
thus spoke, when the footman entered the room, saying,
" Mr. Lawrence Sampson wishes to speak to your ladyship."

Coffin had started up the instant the handle of the door
was heard to turn, and thus the domestic did not observe
that he had been previously sitting in a familiar manner in
Lady Ernestina Dysart's company. But when the terrible
name of the Bow Street officer was mentioned, the Hang-
man became visibly troubled. Ernestina saw in a moment

126 THE COURT OF LONDON

that a scene was to be avoided in the presence of the foot-
man; and, with admirable composure, she immediately said,
" Show Mr. Sampson into the adjoining room."

The domestic retired; and the instant the door closed
behind him, the lady said, in a hurried, altered, and even
hollow tone, " Do you think he has tracked you hither? "

" It looks like it," answered Coffin. " And yet, if he had,
he wouldn't send in to say he wanted to speak to you, but
he would make a rush of it at once with his runners, or else
lie in wait in the street till I went out again."

" But what on earth can he want with me? " said the
lady, trembling from head to foot, the thought of the tragedy
at the Blackheath villa being uppermost in her mind.

" Oh, he doesn't want you, ma'am, for any harm," re-
turned Daniel Coffin; " or else he'd have come bang in and
have taken you at once. I'm up to all the dodges of these
rum customers. Most likely, after all, he's got a scent of me;
and not being quite sure of it, is come to ask whether such a
genelman as Mr. Dan'el Coffin has paid your ladyship a visit
this evening. You'd better not keep him waiting."

" No, it would be imprudent," said Ernestina. Then,
somewhat reassured by the observations of the Hangman
relative to herself, she placed the five guineas upon the table,
observing, " You can leave the house quietly in a few
moments."

She then quitted the apartment; and summoning all her
courage to her aid, she entered the adjoining room, where
Mr. Sampson rose from a seat and made her a profound
salutation.

" Your ladyship will pardon me for intruding at this late
hour, and at a moment when your ladyship's grief must be
so acute after the sad result of to-day," began the officer;
" but I am sure that when I mention the object of my in-
trusion, and when I add that I shall not detain your ladyship
three minutes — "

" You need not apologize, Mr. Sampson," interrupted
Ernestina, now regaining complete confidence, as she felt
assured that neither his manner nor his words denoted a
hostile intent. " I am indeed overwhelmed with sorrow;
but you must not think that I bear any ill will toward your-
self. I know that in arresting my husband, you only did
your duty."

UNPLEASANT VISITORS 127

" Thank your ladyship for that acknowledgment," said
the officer.

" Be seated, Mr. Sampson," continued Ernest ina, affably
motioning toward a chair, but principally exhibiting this
courtesy in order to gain sufficient time to enable Daniel
Coffin to effect a safe retreat from the house; then, as she
herself took a seat, she said, " And now, Mr. Sampson,
you can explain the purpose of your visit."

As Ernestina spoke, she affected a profound mournf ulness ;
and now she held her handkerchief to her face as if to conceal
her tears on account of her husband, but really to veil the
emotion which she might experience in case Sampson ad-
dressed her upon any unpleasant topic. And it was well that
she took this precaution; for the very first words which he
proceeded to utter in explanation of his visit sent the blood
with an ice-chill to her heart and made her entire form
thrill with horror and alarm.

" Your ladyship is probably aware that in the month of
June last Sir Archibald Malvern, a baronet living in Hanover
Square, disappeared suddenly and in a most mysterious
manner. His son, Mr. Valentine, — or Sir Valentine, as he
ought perhaps to be called, — entrusted to me the duty of
making all possible researches to ascertain the fate of his
parent ; but my proceedings and inquiries in the matter have
hitherto proved completely abortive. This evening, however,
an incident has transpired which seems to throw a glimmer
of light, faint and feeble, it is true, upon the occurrence."

" But how can this possibly regard me, Mr. Sampson? "
inquired Ernestina, anxious to be relieved from the tortures
of an excruciating suspense; and removing her handkerchief
from her face, she threw a hurried glance upon him; then,
perceiving that there was nothing ominous in his looks nor
manner, she felt her courage revive.

" It does not regard your ladyship," was the answer;
" but it may regard Mr. Dysart."

" Good heavens! surely you would not attribute to him
the perpetration of such a crime! " exclaimed Ernestina.
"Is he not sufficiently crushed — "

" Pardon me, my lady," interrupted Sampson; " but no
suspicion of the sort has been excited with respect to your
ladyship's husband. Grant me a few minutes, and I will
explain myself. I must inform your ladyship, in the strictest

128 THE COURT OF LONDON

confidence, that Mr. Dysart's arrest took place at Beechey
Manor in consequence of an anonymous letter sent early
the same morning to Bow Street, and which was instantane-
ously placed by the magistrate in my hands."

" An anonymous letter! " exclaimed Ernestina, with well-
affected surprise and indignation.

" Yes, here it is/' said Larry Sampson, as he produced her
own note and handed it to her, — that same note which she
had despatched by old Underdo wn to the office at Bow
Street, as the reader cannot fail to remember.

She took it with trembling hands and pale countenance;
and as she pretended to run her eyes over its contents —
those well-known contents — she made a desperate struggle
to regain her courage.

" Your ladyship may well be annoyed," observed Sampson,
for even the astute and cunning officer was liable to mistake
the causes of emotion and excitement now and then. " You
are disgusted at the treachery practised by the anonymous
correspondent, and you are shocked at observing the hand-
writing to be that of a lady, and evidently an accomplished
one."

"Ah! Dysart has proved false to me, and it is doubtless
his mistress who thus betrayed him," cried Ernestina, with
all the appearance of the most genuine anguish. " But
what has this to do with the disappearance of Sir Archibald
Malvern? "

" I will tell your ladyship. This evening Mr. Valentine
Malvern called upon me, as he often does, to inquire whether
I had made any progress in my researches. I received him
in a room where a number of papers lay scattered upon a
table. This letter was unguardedly left amongst them; in
fact, it lay open. His eye happened to catch a glimpse of it;
he seized it, greedily devoured its contents, examined the
writing with the utmost attention, and then cried out, ' Yes,
'tis the same, 'tis the same! ' To be brief, he explained to
me that amongst his father's papers he had some weeks back
discovered a note in a beautiful female hand, but without
date, address, or signature, and the contents of which,
though worded with a caution amounting to ambiguity,
indicated a gallant intrigue. The handwriting of that tender
epistle and of this anonymous letter are the same, and Mr.
Valentine Malvern had instantaneously recognized the fact.

UNPLEASANT VISITORS 129

What, then, is the inference which he drew? Why, that the
writer of the anonymous letter is most probably known to
Mr. Dysart, — perhaps some lady who has a spite against
him; and if it could be ascertained who she is, it would, as
a matter of course, at the same time establish the identity of
the fair and frail correspondent of the lost Sir Archibald
Malvern. Not that even this discovery might clear up the
mystery of his disappearance; still there is just the possibility
that it would do so, and Mr. Valentine is naturally impelled
by a restless anxiety to leave no stone unturned in the in-
vestigation of his father's fate."

"I understand, Mr. Sampson; it is natural — very
natural," said Ernestina, now terribly alarmed lest the officer
should take it into his head to go and question her husband
upon the subject and show him the anonymous letter, the
writing of which he could not fail to recognize as her own.
" But wherefore have you come to me? " she asked, in order
to glean his views and intentions.

" Mr. Valentine Malvern begged and implored that I
would lose no time in seeing your ladyship upon the sub-
ject; for he thought that painful as it must be to either
your husband or yourself to be intruded upon at such a
moment, it would notwithstanding be less improper or
indelicate under existing circumstances to appeal to your
ladyship than to Mr. Dysart in the matter."

" The handwriting is altogether unknown to me, Mr.
Sampson," said Ernestina; " nor am I aware that my
unfortunate husband had any reason to fear a lady's ran-
corous revenge. But if you will leave this note with me, I
will break the subject to him to-morrow."

" Ah! if your ladyship would be so kind! " exclaimed
Sampson. " I know it must be a painful task for you to
undertake, and that it cannot be otherwise than repugnant
to your feelings; but when your ladyship reflects that a clue
might be formed to the clearing up of a deep mystery — "

" I am quite ready to sacrifice my own feelings in the
matter for the sake of a fellow creature," observed Lady
Ernestina Dysart; " and as I had some slight acquaintance
with Sir Archibald Malvern, and his son is not altogether
a stranger to me, it will afford me a melancholy satisfaction,
in the midst of my own deep sorrows, to be in any way
serviceable in this matter."

130 THE COURT OF LONDON

" Your ladyship will ensure the lasting gratitude of Mr.
Valentine Malvern," said Larry Sampson, rising from his
seat. " I will take the liberty of calling to-morrow evening
to learn the result of your ladyship's interview with Mr.
Dysart, so far as this business is concerned."

The Bow Street officer then took his departure, to the
infinite relief of Lady Ernestina, who had passed through
an ordeal of harrowing tortures, bewildering sensations, and
poignant memories during this interview.

But the moment the door of the apartment closed behind
Mr. Lawrence Sampson, she flung the anonymous letter into
the fire; and as she beheld it flame up and consume, she
murmured to herself, " Thus perish the only evidence that
existed of my perfidy toward Dysart."

She then bethought herself of Daniel Coffin the Hangman;
and returning into the room where she had left him, she
found it unoccupied, and therefore concluded he had taken
his departure. Banishing him from her thoughts, she now
sat down to her writing-desk and penned the ensuing note:

" LEVESON HOUSE, Oct. 11, 1814.

" Lady Ernestina Dysart presents her dutiful compli-
ments to his Royal Highness the Prince Regent, and humbly
requests that his Royal Highness will honour her with a call
to-morrow at eleven o'clock punctually. Lady Ernestina
is well aware that under ordinary circumstances this demand
would savour of the most insolent presumption; but as the
circumstances are extraordinary and peculiar, she ventures
to hope that his Royal Highness will vouchsafe compliance
with her prayer, and that the visit thus besought will be
paid with as much privacy as possible."

Having sealed and addressed this billet, Ernestina gave
it to a domestic to take at once to Carlton House; and as it
was now past ten o'clock and she was wearied with the ex-
citing occurrences of the day, she retired to her own chamber.

But in the meantime, what had really become of Mr.
Daniel Coffin?

When left by himself in the dining-room, he suddenly fell
into a profound perplexity how to act. The visit of Mr.
Lawrence Sampson was, to say the least, alarming; and
despite all the reasoning which the Hangman conjured up

UNPLEASANT VISITORS 131

to persuade himself that the officer's presence had no refer-
ence to him, his evil conscience would not allow this idea
to be so easily relied upon. That Sampson might have
entered the house upon some pretext, but with the real ob-
ject of making a reconnoitre, was probable enough; and in
this case he had doubtless planted his followers in the street.
At all events, Daniel Coffin did not deem it prudent to issue
forth at once; while, on the other hand, he could not very
well remain in the dining-room, during Ernestina's absence,
without exciting the suspicions of any domestic who might
chance to enter it.

He knew not exactly what to do; and it was without any
fixed intention, but in obedience to one of those vague and
undefined impulses which often prompt desperate men
that he gently opened the dining-room door and looked out
into the hall. The porter had gone down to supper; not a
living soul met the Hangman's view by the light of the lamp
suspended to the ceiling in the hall.

A thought struck him. He had been told by the domestic,
on his arrival, that the Marquis of Leveson was away from
home; and Ernestina was therefore mistress of the estab-
lishment in her noble uncle's absence. What if he were to
hide himself for a few hours, until the next night even, in one
of the unoccupied apartments of the spacious dwelling?
Were he discovered, Ernestina must be appealed to in order
to decide how the intruder was to be disposed of; and she
dared not deal harshly with him. On the contrary, he would
be safe beneath her protection. But then, as to food? He
could very well wait four and twenty hours in a fasting con-
dition when his personal security was concerned; and, at
all events, it would be better to incur any risk or privation
within the house than stand the chance of encountering
Mr. Lawrence Sampson's myrmidons outside the threshold.

Rapid as thought alone can travel did these reflections
sweep through the brain of Daniel Coffin as he stood at the
dining-room door, looking forth into the hall. There was also
something in the adventure that pleased him ; and his resolve
was soon taken accordingly. Hastily ascending the great
marble staircase, he reached the landing on the first story,
and opened the nearest door. It led into the Crimson
Drawing-room which has been mentioned in preceding
chapters. The fire was smouldering in the grate, two wax

132 THE COURT OF LONDON

candles were burning upon the mantelpiece, and a tray,
containing a couple of decanters of wine and a dish of bis-
cuits, stood upon the table. This little refreshment had been
served up for Mrs. Owen when she called upon the marquis
that afternoon, and the tray had not been removed.

The Hangman was well pleased at the sight thereof; and
he speedily poured at least a pint of sherry down his capa-
cious throat. This was so much to his taste that he lost no
time in paying his respects with equal devotion to the port;
and in a few minutes the decanters were completely drained.
He then filled one of his ample pockets with the greater
portion of the biscuits; and having thus self-appropriated
the provender, he proceeded to examine the room with more
attention than at first.

To remain concealed here was hopeless. The domestics,
ere they retired for the night, would come to put out the fire
and extinguish the candles. Whither should he go? Scarcely
had he asked himself this question, when his eyes settled
upon a door opposite to the one by which he had entered.
He advanced to try it, but found it locked. This was no
particularly formidable obstacle to Mr, Daniel Coffin. He
felt in his pocket, drew forth a bunch of skeleton keys, and
speedily opened the door. Taking one of the wax tapers
from the mantel, he passed into the adjoining room; and
now, as the reader will no doubt have already understood,
the Hangman had entered the first of that mysterious suite
of apartments which Venetia Trelawney was led to explore
on the evening of her visit to Leveson House.

Having hastily glanced around the room, which we have
previously described as small but luxuriously furnished, the
Hangman observed that there were wax tapers upon the
mantel. He accordingly lighted one of them, and then took
back the one which he carried in his hand into the Crimson
Drawing-room . This he did to prevent its being missed ;
and having restored it to its place, he retraced his way into
the other apartment, carefully locking himself in by means
of the skeleton key that had afforded him ingress.

He now examined this room with admiration and delight,
muttering to himself a wish that he was the owner of that
little paradise. Having attentively surveyed the sofas
ranged around the walls, the vases of flowers, and the
various articles of furniture, his eyes were uplifted toward

UNPLEASANT VISITORS 133

the silver lamp that was suspended to the ceiling, but which
was not burning now. After contemplating it for about a
minute, he stood upon a chair to examine it more closely;
and thus convincing himself that it was real silver, he mut-
tered, " Old Jeremy would give me a pretty penny for this.
Well, I don't think I need go away empty-handed when I
do take my departure."

Grimly smiling at this pleasant conceit, and already re-
garding the silver lamp as his own, Mr. Daniel Coffin de-
scended from the chair, took a taper from the mantel, and
passed into the adjoining room. This was smaller but more
luxuriously furnished than the one he had just left; and
instead of sofas, it contained a number of large and massive
armchairs, each provided with a cushion of immense size.
But there was no choice collection of fruits, sweets, and
wines now upon the table, nor was the lamp with the ground-
glass globe now lighted, as was the case when we introduced
Venetia Trelawney to this apartment.

Without pausing many minutes, Daniel Coffin proceeded
to open the door which faced him; and, still holding the
taper in his hand, he entered the gallery of pictures and
sculptures. At first he was not inclined to pay much at-
tention to these works of art; but their subjects speedily
altered his mood, turning his indifference into eager curiosity,
wonder, and sensual delight. We have already in a previous
chapter depicted a few of the statuary groups and glanced
at one of the pictures; but we must now observe that there
were other groups and other pictures the flagrant indecency
of which would even have brought a blush to the cheeks of
the inmates of a brothel. From the entrance of this gallery
to the farther extremity, the works of art became successively
more and more indelicate, as if the whole purpose of the
arrangement were gradually to lead on the imagination
from the first petty shock, through all the phases of enhanc-
ing allurement, into the crowning grossness of the most
nude and undisguised lasciviousness.

" Well, 'pon my soul, these noblemen are precious rum
fellows to have such scenes as these in their houses,"
thought Daniel Coffin to himself, as with increasing amaze-
ment he passed along the gallery. " By goles! it gets worse
and worse. If anybody had told me he'd seen such a place
in a nobleman's mansion, I shouldn't have believed him.

134 THE COURT OF LONDON

And now that I recollect, this Marquis of Leveson is always
holding forth in the House of Lords about the bad morals
of the lower orders and the desecration of the Sabbath.
Well, some men are hypocrites — rank impostors, too.
What statues, what paintings! The farther I advance the
more I seem to learn in the lessons of indecency. I suppose
the marquis brings his ladies here sometimes. I wonder
whether his niece Ernestina has ever set foot in this gallery.
If she has, she can't be much better than she should be;
and I dare say she's not, too. In fact, I suppose the prince
was enticed to Beechey Manor that night to be captivated
by her charms. But Dysart kept his real motive snug
enough, whatever it was. Well, 'pon my soul, my head
begins to turn, and I feel all nohow looking at these pictures
and images. Why, the purest virgin that ever stepped would
leave this gallery as corrupt in mind as if she had passed
through twenty years of debauchery and profligacy. Nell
Gibson, who frequents the dark crib at the Folly Bridges,
isn't so bad but that she'd be made worse by a ten minutes'
walk up and down this gallery. And everything is so
beautifully done, too, the paintings as well as the statues!
What a mint of money all this must have cost, and what
a lot of sculptors and artists must have been employed to
furnish so many different things! Ay, and doesn't the old
marquis come at times and gloat over them! What a many
women have no doubt lost their virtue in consequence of a
visit to this place; and what tales these walls could tell if
they only had the gift of speech! But only suppose that a
poor devil was to be seen selling cheap pictures and prints
half so bad as these great expensive paintings, wouldn't
the constables be down upon him in a jiffy, and no mistake! "

While thus musing, Mr. Daniel Coffin brought his inspec-
tion of the gallery to a close; and issuing forth, he returned
into the room containing the large armchairs.

" Well, I think one of these concerns will be even more
comfortable to sleep in for the night than the sofas in the
room beyond," he thought to himself as he glanced slowly
around. " Besides, I always sleep too heavy when I lay
down, and I mustn't stand a chance of being surprised
napping."

Having come to this conclusion, the Hangman placed the
wax candle upon the table, and then deposited himself in

UNPLEASANT VISITORS 135

one of the armchairs. But scarcely had he dropped his person
upon the voluptuous-looking cushion when a sharp click, like
a clock giving warning, struck his startled ear; and at the
same instant his wrists were caught in the manacles and his
shoulders were fast griped by the strong steel bands that
sprang forth from the woodwork of the treacherous chair.

" Perdition! " ejaculated the Hangman, with a desperate
struggle to release himself.

But his efforts would not have been more vain or futile
had a tremendous boa-constrictor suddenly wound its mas-
sive coils around him; the manacles were immovable, the
steel bands held his shoulders in an inextricable gripe, and
the very chair itself was solidly fastened by the legs to the
floor.

Finding that his endeavours were useless, and exhausted
by their unavailing strenuousness, the Hangman suddenly
desisted from any further struggling with the treacherous
chair and its potent mechanism; and as a subdued impreca-
tion fell from his lips, the chill sweat of profound terror burst
forth all over him, saturating his very garments and making
his shirt cling to him like the cold, clammy grave-clothes of
the dead.

CHAPTER XII

EKNESTINA AND THE PRINCE

IT was about eleven o'clock in the forenoon of the day
following the incidents just related, and Ernestina was alone
in the Crimson Drawing-room.

She was seated near a harp, and it was evident from her
looks and her manner that she was studying a part which
she had to play. We do not mean aught in reference to
music, although the instrument was there close at hand, but
in reference to coquetry and seductive allurement.

Her hair was arranged in massive bands over her alabaster
temples, and gathered with a graceful sweep in such a way
that it showed the small and well-folded ears. She had
selected a dress which displayed her fine form to its most
exciting and sensuous advantage, leaving the white plump
shoulders bare, and allowing the grand fulness of the bosom
to swell in more than half its glowing amplitude above the
body of the robe. By a gentle inclination of her figure
toward the harp, she was enabled to give her bright and
polished neck so swanlike a curve that nothing could exceed
the beauty of its arching gracefulness; and, with an ad-
mirable prescience of coquettish effect mingled with a
seductive languor, she knew that this position would enable
the eye of a beholder to trace the symmetry of that sweet neck
in its gradual and downward expansion into the noble foun-
dation on which it rested.

The volume and voluptuous form of her bust were in this
manner developed to the fullest advantage; and as she
leaned toward the harp with all the seeming ease and grace-
fulness of this really studied attitude, she threw into her
looks a melancholy softness which added to the power of
her great beauty. Her whole figure was thus sensuously

136

ERNESTINA AND THE PRINCE 137

languid and voluptuously drooping; her eyes were half-
veiled by the long lashes beneath which their expression
became all the more wanton, and the ripeness and fulness
of her shape bespoke a subdued passion as profound and as
luxurious as the looks that shone from under the softly
drooping lids.

It was a very cold, damp, raw October day, with a leaden
sky and a misty atmosphere; but the air of the Crimson
Drawing-room was warm and perfumed. A cheerful fire
blazed in the grate, and the porcelain vases exhaled a de-
licious fragrance that stole upon the sense without overpow-
ering it.

But why, just as the timepiece upon the mantel struck
eleven, did Lady Ernestina Dysart assume that studied air
of mournful pensiveness and sensuous languor as she bent
toward the harp? Because a carriage had that moment
stopped at the front door, and she was at no loss to conjecture
who the visitant was.

In less than a minute a domestic entered, announcing his
Royal Highness the Prince Regent. The man immediately
retired, closing the door behind him; but Ernestina retained
that pensive attitude, as if she were so profoundly absorbed
in her reflections that she heard not the entrance of the prince
nor the annunciation of his name.

We must here pause for a moment to state that his Royal
Highness had called in compliance with Ernestina's note.
He was not aware that he had as yet ever seen this lady, but
he had heard much of her beauty, and he was not the man
to let pass the opportunity of satisfying himself whether
report spoke truly in that respect. Besides, he fancied that
her ladyship might have something important to communi-
cate from her uncle, the Marquis of Leveson, of whose
abrupt departure for the Continent he was already aware.
Several reasons therefore induced him, even at some little
inconvenience, to comply with the terms of Lady Ernestina
Dysart 's note; but now that he was ushered into the room
where she was seated, he was somewhat surprised to observe
the deep absorption and pensiveness of her attitude.

Her back was turned toward him as she sat bending over
the harp. He stood still for a few moments, struck by the
dazzling whiteness of her neck and shoulders, the elegant
shape of her head, and the flowing outlines of her figure.

138 THE COURT OF LONDON

Still she remained motionless. He advanced a little, and
now obtained a glimpse of the bust which glowed in the un-
veiled luxuriance of its charms against the harp. Upon that
grandly developed bosom did the eyes of the royal voluptu-
ary settle; and at the same instant Ernestina, affecting
still to remain unconscious of his presence, and with half-
averted countenance, began to touch the strings of the
instrument.

She was an accomplished musician, and the harp gave
forth such sounds that ravished the ears of the prince. The
melody stole softly and sensuously upon him, in unison with
the voluptuous feelings engendered by the beauteous form
on which his eyes rested. The very warmth of the room and
fragrance of the atmosphere increased this melting effect,
dissolving all his soul into an ineffable tenderness. He stood
like one enchanted; his pulses thrilled, the colour deepened
upon his countenance, his eyes swam in passion's liquid fire.
It seemed as if some unknown paradise on earth were open-
ing to his comprehension at a moment when he had little
expected that any such blissful development was in store for
him.

And now, gradually did the lady turn her countenance
in such a way toward the harp that he caught her profile
with that half-vanishing effect which Rembrandt loved so
well to depict upon his canvas; and as the light, borrowing
a roseate tint from the hue of the crimson curtains which
shaded the windows, fell upon that faultless profile, the
prince started with a sudden recollection. But the lady still
affected to perceive him not, and at the instant that he thus
started, she made the splendid instrument give forth such
a glorious volume of gushing golden melody that he was
again struck motionless and transfixed with ineffable rapture.

But now he studied that profile intently; he marked also
the glossy light brown hair, the high and polished brow. He
saw the long silken lashes, he observed the dark eye flashing
beneath ; he traced the outline of the aquiline nose, the well-
cut lips of vivid scarlet, and the softly rounded chin. Then
again did his looks settle upon the grand exuberance of the
bosom that was now heaving visibly, white as snow, but
warm and glowing to the eye; and then his looks once again
travelled upward to the face which was gradually turning
more and more toward him. The seashell pink which

ERNESTINA AND THE PRINCE 139

naturally belonged to her complexion was now deepening
into the rich carnation hue; the blush gradually descended
to her neck, thence suffusing itself over her bosom; and the
longer the prince gazed, the more convinced did he become
that his lips had glued themselves in impassioned kisses to
those glowing cheeks, that his hand had pressed and his
head been pillowed upon that heaving, swelling bosom, and
that the entire form had lain palpitating with 'love and
desire in his arms.

Slowly now did Ernestina raise her head and turn her eyes
toward him, — those large lustrous eyes looking up full into
his, and swimming with that Oriental languor which he
had observed and which had ravished him before. Ay, and
he was no longer uncertain nor in doubt as to where and when
those seductive looks had previously shed their Elysian
influence upon his soul; and falling on his knees at the lady's
feet, he exclaimed, " Heavens! are you my lovely unknown
— unknown no longer — but Ernestina Dysart? "

" Oh, then you are not angry with me, beloved prince? "
murmured the siren, flinging her snowy arms around his
neck.

" Angry with you — impossible! " cried the royal volup-
tuary, straining her to him even as he knelt, and covering
her warm and glowing cheeks with passionate kisses. " But
what means this mystery? " he exclaimed, at length, rising
and taking a chair by her side. " Are you really Lady
Ernestina Dysart, the niece of my friend Leveson? And if so,
what meant that scene of mingled outrage, mystery, and
love which characterized the night of our first acquaintance?"

" I will tell you everything in good time, my dear prince/'
answered the lady, as she lavished upon him the tenderest
caresses with an appearance of the fondest affection. " But
whatever the explanations may be, promise — "

" I can promise anything, everything, to such a charmer as
you," interrupted the prince, his head already turning with
blissful rapture, as on the night at Beechey Manor. "Ah!
how rejoiced I am that we have met again! " and he devoured
her cheeks, her neck, and her bosom with his burning kisses.
" But tell me what you have to say, and then — and then —
talk to me of love, only of love! "

" Listen patiently, if you will, and attentively, if you can,
for a few minutes," said Ernestina, with a smile of such

140 THE COURT OF LONDON

delicious archness and with a look of such wanton meaning
that a lava-stream of fierce and fiery passion boiled in the
veins of the amorous prince; for her lips revealed rows of
pearl and seemed to breathe the ambrosial fragrance of
paradise, and her glances went with an electric influence to
his very heart's core.

" Let me pillow my head here," he said, reclining it upon
her shoulder; " and now proceed. I am all attention."

" In the first place, then," she resumed, " you must know
that I am really that same Ernestina whom you have named,
and that the Marquis of Leveson is my uncle. Before I
married that wretched being, Dysart, and when I was living
beneath this roof, my uncle would never allow me to meet
your Royal Highness when you called. He took every pre-
caution to prevent me from being seen by you — "

"Ah! the sly dog," murmured the prince; " he knew
that to behold you would be to love you. But go on, my
dear Ernestina, go on."

" Moreover," she continued, " he would never permit me
to attend any balls or parties at which you were likely to
be present, and he invariably found some excuse for not
introducing me at court. After my marriage, — my un-
fortunate, unhappy, hated marriage — "

" Ah! you do not love your husband, then? " said the
prince.

" I hate, I detest, I abhor him! " cried Ernestina em-
phatically. " Besides," she immediately added, in a sub-
dued and murmuring tone, " I love you — and you only! "

" Thanks for that assurance, my angel," said the prince,
pressing her warmly toward him; and for the time being
even the incomparable Venetia Trelawney was forgottea
by the royal voluptuary. " But what were you going to
observe? — that after your marriage — "

" I was cut out, as it were, from that society in which alone
I was likely to meet your Royal Highness."

" Do not Royal Highness me," murmured the prince.
" Let me be George or anything else you like to you."

" Dear, dear George," said Ernestina, pressing her lips
to his own. " But I will not weary you with a long story.
You are aware that Dysart killed Sefton in a duel — "

" And he was condemned to death yesterday," exclaimed
the prince. " But what was that paper which I signed — "

ERNESTINA AND THE PRINCE 141

" Here it is — read it, George/' interrupted the lady, pro-
ducing the document from beneath the cushion of a sofa, and
displaying it to the view of his Royal Highness.

The prince, suffering his curiosity to distract him for a few
moments from his dream of voluptuous bliss, took the paper
and read it. But when he found that it was in fact an ac-
knowledgment on his part of a criminal correspondence with
Lady Ernestina Dysart, and a solemn undertaking to grant
a free pardon to her husband, whatever sentence a criminal
tribunal might pass upon him, a feeling of indignation sprang
up in his soul, and, turning his eyes reproachfully upon his
fair companion, he said, " And you were a party to this
precious document? "

" Hear me, prince, hear me, dearest George, and do not
prejudge me! " she exclaimed, redoubling the fond ardour
of her caresses, and immediately bringing all the wanton
witcheries of seductive artifice to play their artillery upon
him again.

" But let us first destroy this paper, my love," said the
prince; " that is, if you really have any regard and affection
for me."

" Destroy it if you will," observed Ernestina, her manner
suddenly changing into coldness; " but in that case I shall
be ruined, and you will be exposed."

" What mean you? Speak! " cried the prince.

" If the paper be destroyed, Dysart will proclaim to the
world all that occurred at Beechey Manor," responded the
lady. " Thus my reputation will be wrecked, and yours
will sustain no advantage."

"But do you wish me to comply with the guarantee con-
tained in this document? " demanded the bewildered
prince. " Do you wish me to exercise my prerogative as
regent and grant a free pardon to your husband? I thought
you said just now that you hated, loathed, and abhorred him."

" And I repeat those expressions now," exclaimed Ernes-
tina. " Yes, I hate, loathe, and abhor him; and it is pre-
cisely because I wish to leave him to his doom that I enjoin
you not to destroy that paper, but on the contrary help me
in deluding and beguiling the wretched man to the very last.
By so doing, he will retain our secret, he will not be goaded
by rage or despair to proclaim it to the world, and neither
your reputation nor my own need suffer."

142 THE COURT OF LONDON

" But what purposes have you in view, Ernestina, and
how do you propose to carry out your aims? " asked the
prince, now beginning to comprehend the wily lady's mean-
ing.

" Listen attentively," she said, throwing her arms about
his neck and drawing him toward her in such a manner that
his ear came close to her lips; and then she whispered long
and earnestly.

" Yes, it can be managed in that way, and it must be
done so," said the prince, in a musing tone, when she had
ceased speaking. " But have you the nerve, the tact, the
courage to carry out the plan to the very last moment? "

" By all the wrongs I have sustained at his hands," re-
turned the lady, in a low voice that was full of concentrated
bitterness, " I swear that I am as remorseless in my ven-
geance as I am capable of being fervid, enthusiastic, and
devoted in love."

" I believe you, dearest Ernestina, I believe you," said
the prince, now again melting beneath the influence of her
blandishments. " And remember, I trust entirely to you,
I confide in you altogether."

" My love toward you is the proof of my sincerity," mur-
mured the lady, redoubling the ardour of her caresses and
exciting the prince to tender dalliance.

" Well, let me write what you require upon the margin
of that document," he said; " and then, as I ere now ob-
served, we can talk of love — and only of love."

Thus speaking, the prince rose and placed himself at a
table on which there were writing-materials.

" Now dictate to me, my charming preceptress, what I
am to say," he observed, taking up a pen and preparing to
write.

"Let the annotation run thus," said Ernestina, bending
over him, with one arm thrown about his neck: " ' I have
reperused this paper and reiterate the promise made therein/
Now prefix the date and your signature. That will do."

" Well, it is done, and I am glad of it," observed the prince.
" You do not know how I hate trouble of any kind. I was
formed and fashioned to spend my existence pleasurably,
and not in the routine of business and serious affairs. Come,
put away that document, Ernestina, and tell me once more
that you are really and truly very fond of me."

ERNESTINA AND THE PRINCE 143

The lady locked up the paper in the drawer of a chiffonier
standing in one of the window recesses, and then took her
seat upon a sofa, the prince placing himself by her side. At
the same instant his looks fell upon the door communicating
with the mysterious suite of apartments; and, as a train of
recollections associated therewith gushed through his
memory, he said, " Ernestina, my darling, have you ever
been in those rooms? "

" Never," she replied. " They are my uncle's private
apartments, and he does not allow any one save his valet,
Stephen Brockman, and the housekeeper to enter them."

" And have you never been inspired with curiosity suffi-
cient to induce you to explore those forbidden regions? "
asked the royal voluptuary, now seized with an ardent
longing to witness the effect of the gallery's contents upon
Ernestina, whose passions he hoped to see flame up to a
maddening pitch.

" To speak candidly/' she replied, " I have wished to
penetrate into the secrets of those apartments; but I have
never found an opportunity. The door has always been
locked."

" Ah! you little vixen," exclaimed the prince, patting
her cheek; " you have tried the door, then? "

" Do you not know that woman's curiosity is as great as
her capacity for love? " said Ernestina, laughing. " But
have you ever visited those apartments, — you, who are so
intimate with my uncle? "

" I have, dearest Ernestina," responded the prince,
" and I can assure you that they contain the choicest
specimens of statuary and painting. Ah! how I should
rejoice to become your guide there! "

"It is impossible," said Ernestina, rising from the sofa
and trying the door. " You perceive it is locked, and I dare
not ask Brockman for the keys, even if my uncle had left
them in his possession," she added, returning to her seat.

" Are you not aware that there is a secret entrance from
the dressing-room of the marquis? " inquired the prince.
Then, without waiting for an answer, he exclaimed, " But
of course you are not, otherwise you would long ago have
obtained access to the apartments by that means of com-
munication."

" No doubt," exclaimed Ernestina, laughing, and dis-

144 THE COURT OF LONDON

playing the rows of pearl which embellished her mouth.
" I will not affect a virtue which I do not possess; and now
that you have raised my curiosity, you shall indeed become
my guide and companion in a visit to those rooms. But
wait an instant , while I assure myself that the coast is clear."

Thus speaking, the lady again started from her seat by
the prince's side, and went to look forth upon the landing.
No one was there, and she beckoned his Royal Highness to
follow hastily. He at once obeyed, and they passed together
into her uncle's bedchamber. This they traversed and
entered the dressing-room; but Ernestina saw no trace of a
door in the wall which separated that dressing-room from
the private suite of apartments.

" You are more puzzled than if you were wildered in the
maze at Hampton Court," cried the prince, laughing; then,
having pressed his lips upon her fair shoulder as he threw
his arm for a moment around her waist, he said, " Look
here."

Thus speaking, he pressed his thumb upon a particular
spot on the paper, and a door immediately flew open.
Bounding past the prince, Ernestina sped into the room
thus revealed to her; but a cry of mingled amazement and
alarm burst from her lips as her eyes encountered the never-
to-be-forgotten face of Daniel Coffin the Hangman.

CHAPTER XIII

THE PRISONER IN THE CHAIR

AT that ejaculation of terror the prince sprang forward
from the dressing-room just in time to catch Lady Ernestina
Dysart in his arms as she was recoiling from the hideous
spectacle of that man whom she never saw nor thought of
without associating him with the ghastly horrors of death
and the grave; for the incidents of the night at the Black-
heath villa were impressed on her brain as indelibly as if
seared there with a red-hot iron.

" Who the devil is this fellow? " exclaimed the prince,
the moment his looks lighted upon the Hangman; but the
next instant he burst out into such an uncontrollable fit of
laughter that all Ernestina's terror vanished, and she glanced
again toward the object of her aversion in order to discover
the cause of her royal companion's sudden jocularity.

And now she saw what she had not at first perceived,
namely, the ignominious as well as ludicrous manner in which
Daniel Coffin was held captive in the chair; and a smile
wavered upon her beauteous lips, despite the abhorrence
and loathing which she entertained for that man. The
whole truth flashed to her comprehension in a moment, for
she was not so innocent nor so inexperienced as to remain
long in doubt as to the real uses which that treacherous
chair was intended to serve; and it likewise struck her
that the Hangman, instead of leaving the house on the
preceding evening, had stolen up into this suite of apart-
ments and had fallen into a trap which her precious uncle
was wont to set for a fairer and lovelier prey than that
which it had now caught.

On his side, the Hangman had instantaneously recognized
the prince regent, whose person was no stranger to him;

145

146 THE COURT OF LONDON

and, momentarily aghast with dismay, the wretch sat
glaring wildly on his Royal Highness. But speedily re-
covering his wonted presence of mind, especially when he
saw that the prince treated the affair as such a capital joke,
he growled forth, " Well, can't you release a poor devil?
I have been fast here ever since ten o'clock last night."

" Oh, the fellow will kill me, positively kill me with
laughing," cried the prince, actually writhing with parox-
ysms of mirth as he leaned against the wall for support,
while the tears streamed down his cheeks now purple from
the same cause. " Oh, this is too good, too rich! Ernestina,
why don't you enjoy it as I do? "

" Enjoy it, by goles! " growled the Hangman, savagely.
" I don't think your Royal Highness would enjoy it very
much either. It's no joke to pass a night locked up in an
infernal chair that is worse than the stocks, barring the pelt-
ing of the rotten eggs."

" Well, I never laughed so much in all my life," exclaimed
the prince, the humorous fit now gradually subsiding.
Then, as he closed the door opening from the dressing-room,
he said, " Ernestina, do you know our captive friend here?
I can't congratulate him upon the pleasantness of his
aspect, and if men's countenances were to be taken as bail,
I am very sure his would never be accepted."

" No, I am quite ignorant who he is," said Lady Dysart,
making Coffin a rapid sign not to contradict the assertion
thus boldly ventured. " But I dare say he has found his
way into the house on some love-adventure with one of the
female servants," she added, thus furnishing him with a
ready excuse to account for his presence there.

" Egad, ma'am, you're quite right," exclaimed the
Hangman, with a grim smile. " It was just as you say, and
the girl deluded me into this place, where she very politely
asked me to be seated, and lo and behold! I was lumbered
and limboed in a jiffy. But I'll be even with her yet, the
hussy! Only, I hope you won't make no noise about it."

" Rest assured on that head," Ernestina hastened to
reply. " But on your part, you will never betray what you
have experienced or seen within these walls? "

" I don't want to be laughed at for a fool, ma'am,"
responded Coffin; " and therefore I shall keep a still tongue
in my head. But pray release me."

THE PRISONER IN THE CHAIR 147

" In a moment, all in good time," exclaimed the prince,
still with a smile upon his countenance as he surveyed the
man who cut such a piteous figure, with his looks made
haggard by a night of restlessness, and whose aspect was
not improved by his matted hair and unshaven chin. " Now,
is it really possible," continued his Royal Highness, " that
any girl in the service of Lord Leveson took a fancy to so
singular a gentleman as you are? "

" She pretended to, at all events," replied Coffin; " but
don't you see, it was only to amuse herself by enticing me
into this trap."

" And right well must she have been amused, too/'
rejoined the prince, still with a bantering tone. " But do
you know, my good fellow, that if any one asked me seriously
and solemnly to guess who you are, I could not possibly fall
back upon any other hypothesis than that you are Jack
Ketch."

" And by Satan! " exclaimed Coffin, with another grim
smile, " your Royal Highness wouldn't be far short of the
mark, and that's plain enough! "

" Heavens! don't talk so horribly," cried Ernestina,
becoming very pale.

" Well, ma'am," continued Coffin, " the prince wants
to know who I am, and as I am very certain he won't betray
me, I tell him candidly and openly that I am — or at least
was — Jack Ketch, until that cursed affair down at Mrs.
Owen's — "

"Ah! is this possible? " ejaculated the prince, who at
first thought the fellow was joking when he acknowledged
himself to be the public executioner; and the countenance
of his Royal Highness now became suddenly stern and
severe.

" Let us liberate him and send him about his business,"
said Ernestina, catching the prince by the arm and gazing
on him with a look of entreaty.

" Yes, and the sooner he gets out of my sight, the better,"
exclaimed George. " But, no! " he suddenly ejaculated,
as a thought flashed to his mind. " This fellow may be of
service to us," he added, in a musing tone. Then, drawing
Ernestina to the farther end of the room, he said, in a low
whisper, " With this scoundrel's cooperation, our plans
relative to Dysart would be made secure and safe enough."

148 THE COURT OF LONDON

" I can at once fathom your meaning," responded the
lady, likewise lowering her voice to a scarcely audible
whisper; " but would you trust him? "

" And why not? " asked the prince. " He would not
dare betray us, because he must know full well that not a
human being would believe him, and that he would be
treated as a bedlamite. Besides, gold purchases the secrecy
even of such ruffians as this."

" True! But he is no longer the agent of the law; he has
ceased to occupy his loathsome office," observed the lady.
" For, if I be not mistaken, he is the wretch who shot
Mrs. Owen's footman, and therefore he himself has become
amenable to the law."

" Ah, I did not think of that at the moment," said the
prince. " But, at all events, let us question the villain
and ascertain what his position and prospects really are.
One never knows what loopholes such scoundrels have to
creep out of. In any case, there is no harm in questioning
him; it will only be at the expense of remaining a few
minutes longer in his precious company."

With this resolve the prince turned again toward the
Hangman, who had waited in some degree of suspense the
result of the whispered colloquy between his Royal Highness
and Ernestina. As for the lady herself, it was with
evident reluctance that she again accosted the Hangman;
nor did she much admire the prospect of falling even
more deeply into that ruffian's power than she already
was.

" Now tell me," said the prince, leaning against the
secret door of the dressing-room, and fixing his eyes search-
ingly upon the Hangman, " what prospect you have of ever
getting out of the scrape into which your crimes have
plunged you? "

" First tell me," exclaimed Coffin, " what motive you
have in asking? "

" No unfriendly one," replied the prince. " You are
well aware that it does not suit my purpose to hand you
over to the grasp of justice: that calculation you have
already revolved in your mind, and therefore you need no
assurance from my lips upon the point. But I have a
particular reason for wishing to know whether you entertain
any hopes of being shortly restored to the very pleasant and

THE PRISONER IN THE CHAIR 149

agreeable office which you are compelled, it appears, tem-
porarily to vacate."

" Does your Royal Highness mean the post of Jack
Ketch? " inquired Coffin, more and more amazed at the
turn the conversation was taking.

"To be sure I do!" exclaimed the prince. "Come,
speak out, man; you know I can't — or, rather, won't —
do you any harm, whereas," he added, more deliberately,
" I may do you some good."

" Ah! that's different," said Coffin, his looks now bright-
ening up. " Well, my lord, — or Royal Highness, — I'll
explain to you exactly the predicament I stand in. You see
I'm now playing at hide-and-seek, — afraid to go near my
own house — "

" And therefore you take up your quarters in other
people's," added the prince, drily. " But go on. I suppose
you are afraid of being arrested? "

" Just so," observed the Hangman; " and there is but
two chances of my ever being comfortable again. One is
the death of my sworn enemy, Larry Sampson — "

" That is the famous Bow Street officer, eh? " said the
prince.

" Lor', how your Royal Highness does know everything! "
exclaimed Coffin. " One would really think you'd been a
gonnoff or cracksman yourself in your day, and perhaps
you would, too, if you hadn't been born a prince."

" Well, go on," said his Royal Highness, who could not
help smiling at the conceit. " You have told me one of
your chances of getting what you call comfortable again;
now tell me the other."

"It is just this," rejoined Daniel Coffin, " that if so be
there's a man to hang some fine Monday morning, and no
one to hang him, the sheriff will make proclamation of free
pardon to any enterprising individual, no matter what his
crimes may have been, who shall step for'ard and offer
himself for the dooty."

" Ah! " ejaculated the prince, with a rapid glance of
intelligence at Ernestina. " Then you really do expect
that, sooner or later, you may resume your favourite
post? "

"If it wasn't an unpleasant subject, prince," said the
hangman, looking toward the lady in a meaning manner,

150 THE COURT OF LONDON

" I might perhaps let you into the real secret of my hopes
on the point we are discussing."

" Do not mind me/' observed Ernestina. " Speak
candidly and openly to his Royal Highness, whatever you
may have to say; " and she walked toward the end of the
room, still, however, remaining within ear-shot, as the
chamber has already been described as of narrow dimensions.

" Well, then, since I am to speak out, I will," continued
Daniel Coffin, fully convinced, in his own mind, that all
this questioning did not arise from mere curiosity alone
on the part of the prince, but was connected with the
topic of his recently whispered colloquy with Ernestina,
whatever that topic might have been. " The fact is, your
Royal Highness, Mr. Dysart will have to figure at Tuckup
Fair next Monday week, if so be your Royal Highness
doesn't mean to let him off. And, somehow or another, a
little bird whispers in my ears that you won't let him off — "

" Ah! " cried the prince, and the ejaculation was echoed,
but in a lower tone, by Lady Ernestina Dysart. " What
makes you assume that, fellow? " he demanded, sternly.

" Oh, simply because I see your Royal Highness and her
ladyship on such very comfortable terms together," replied
the Hangman. " Coming into this pleasant range of apart-
ments, for instance, very likely to take a peep into yonder
gallery, and, at all events, whispering together, exchanging
sly glances, and seeming on such capital terms, that a hus-
band is better out of the way in such a case."

As Coffin thus spoke, Ernestina turned aside her coun-
tenance, that was crimsoning with mingled indignation and
shame; but it did not strike her that it was her own fault
if the ruffian thus were enabled to allude with coarse flip-
pancy to her amour with the prince. As for her royal
paramour himself, he was, for a moment, inclined to give
way to his anger at the fellow's remarks; but, perceiving
that any display of wrath would be alike useless and ridicu-
lous, he bit his lip and held his peace.

" So, you observe," continued the Hangman, " that I'm
rather a far-seeing covey, after my own fashion; and to
return to what I was saying, I'm now in hope that, if so be
Mr. Dysart should be tucked up next Monday week, I may
have the opportunity of getting a free pardon, and going
home all comfortable again to my crib in Fleet Lane, where

THE PRISONER IN THE CHAIR 151

I shall be happy to shave your Royal Highness any day
for nothing."

" And such is your hope," said the prince, in a musing
tone; " and you expect it will be gratified on Monday
week. Now, can you keep a secret? And do you want to
earn a couple of hundred guineas? "

" Yes, to both questions," replied the Hangman, joyfully.

" Ernest ina," said the prince, " retire into that room,
and close the door. I would rather speak to this man alone.
It must only be painful to your feelings," he added, in a
whisper, as he conducted the lady into the luxuriously
furnished apartment, which has already been described as
forming the first of the suite.

Ernestina accordingly remained in this room while the
prince concluded his discourse with Daniel Coffin. What
further passed between them we need not now relate;
suffice it to say that, having been closeted alone with the
Hangman for upwards of ten minutes, his Royal Highness
returned to the lady in the apartment to which he had
conducted her.

" Well, my angel, it is all right," he said, in a low,
mysterious tone, as he closed the door behind him. " The
fellow has entered into my views, and I am glad that the
thought struck me."

" But where is he? Have you released him from the
chair? Is he gone? " demanded Ernestina, trembling with
the excitement into which the prolonged train of incidents
had thrown her.

" The rascal could not very well leave the house in broad
daylight," said the prince, " to be stopped by your servants
as a prowling robber, or to be snapped up by some constable
or informer in the streets. No, he must remain here until
dusk. I have liberated him from the chair, and he is busy
devouring a quantity of biscuits, with which his pocket is
crammed. But you look pale, ill — "

" I shall be better presently, my dearest George," an-
swered Ernestina, with a fond look. " But let us leave these
apartments, and return to the drawing-room. We have
already been too long away, and if any of the servants
should have entered during our absence, what must they
have thought? "

" That I know how to appreciate the beauties of an

152 THE COURT OF LONDON

angel/' replied the prince, caressing her. " We will return
to the drawing-room, since you desire it; but we must
retrace our way through your uncle's chambers."

" By what means did that dreadful man obtain access
to these rooms, I wonder? " said Ernestina, the thought
now striking her for the first time.

" By aid of a skeleton key, he tells me," answered the
prince; " and I have doubt his intention was to rob the
house. But we will not trouble ourselves any more about
him; he will be useful to us, and that is sufficient. Come,
let us retrace our way to the drawing-room."

The prince accordingly led Ernestina back into the
adjoining apartment, where the Hangman was now walking
to and fro to stretch his limbs, which were horribly cramped
by his long prisonage in the treacherous chair. Opening
the secret door, by pressing his hand on one of the roses
that formed the pattern of the paper, his Royal Highness
and Ernestina once more gained the dressing-room. The
secret door was carefully closed again; and from the dressing-
room they passed into the bedchamber.

But, to tell the truth, they paused there awhile; and
nearly another half-hour elapsed ere they returned into the
Crimson Drawing-room. Then the lady's cheeks were
flushed, and her eyes swam in a softly sensuous languor,
while the countenance of the prince was radiant with satis-
faction and triumph. Alas! Venetia was still forgotten by
the royal voluptuary.

" Farewell for the present, my charmer," he said, straining
Ernestina to his breast. " We shall soon meet again, — the
sooner the better."

" That depends entirely on yourself, my dear George,"
whispered the lady, in her soft musical tones, and with a
look that was in itself a whole world of blandishments.

The prince now took his departure, and Ernestina, having
ordered the carriage, ascended to her own chamber to dress
for going out.

CHAPTER XIV

NEWGATE

IT was about three o'clock in the afternoon as a beautiful
girl, seventeen years of age, and neatly though plainly
dressed, reached the visitors' gate at Newgate. Her coun-
tenance was pale as marble, her eyes were somewhat red
with weeping, and the nervous quivering of her lips showed
how strong and painful were the efforts which she made
to crush and stifle the grief that was swelling so agonizingly
in her bosom. Her slight form was modelled to the most
graceful symmetry; innocence shed its soft halo even upon
her profoundly mournful looks; her retiring, timid, and
bashful manner unmistakably denoted the purity of her
mind.

Ascending the steps leading to the gate, or half-door,
surmounted with its bristling fringe of iron spikes, her looks
plunged affrightedly and recoilingly into the dark gloomy
vestibule within; and the next moment a turnkey looked
over the well-guarded barrier.

" What is it, young 'oman? " he said, in a short, surly
tone, for he was discussing his dinner and a pot of porter
at the moment of her arrival.

" I believe — I am afraid," she answered, tremulously
and timidly, " that a young gentleman named Theodore
Varian has been brought hither this forenoon."

" We've no young genelmen here, miss," said the turnkey,
gruffly. " A young man has been brought in this mornin',
committed by the lord mayor for trial."

" May I see him? " asked the girl, the syllables which
formed the request seeming as if they issued from a breaking
heart. " He is my brother," and she burst into tears.

" Well, I'm sorry to be obleeged to refuse you, my dear,"

153

154 THE COURT OF LONDON

said the turnkey, somewhat softened; " but it's after the
hours for wisitors, and it's agin the rules to let anybody
enter now. I'm wery sorry, I say, but you must come
to-morrow mornin' at eleven o'clock."

" Oh, can you not let me see my poor brother, if only
for a moment? " asked Ariadne Varian, in a voice that was
convulsed with bitter, bitter anguish.

" It can't be done, miss," said the turnkey; " but you can
ax the guv'ner. Go on a little farther, and ascend them
steps which leads to the door of his house."

Then, having waved a huge key in the direction to which
he had alluded, the man disappeared from the gate, and
poor Ariadne, hastily wiping her eyes, passed along the
front of the frowning prison until she reached the door of
the governor's dwelling. The knock which she gave was
low and timid, for there was in her soul a sense of such deep,
deep humiliation that it seemed to her as if her prayer
would only be granted by a display of object servility on
her part, and that even too loud a knock would ensure a
refusal. Alas! this poor young girl was already doomed, at
so tender an age, to experience the degradation which even
innocence feels when visiting the abode of the criminal.

A woman servant answered the door, and the instant
Ariadne began to make known her business, the governor
himself issued forth from an office close by.

" I'm sorry I can't help you, young woman," he said;
" but it is altogether against the rules to admit a visitor
after the proper hours. It is more than I dare do. You
must come to-morrow morning. But what case is it? "

" I am the sister of Theodore Varian, sir," replied Ariadne,
again bursting into tears, and leaning against the entrance
for support.

" Ah! I recollect," cried the governor. " Committed
just now from the Mansion House, eh? Embezzlement
and fraud — my friend Emmerson the prosecutor. Ah!
young woman, it is a bad case; your brother should have
known better. There, now, don't cry like this; people
will think I am ill-using you, perhaps. Come to-morrow at
eleven."

With these words the governor closed the door of his
house, and Ariadne turned slowly away from the prison,
weeping as if her heart would break.

NEWGATE 155

A few minutes afterward a carriage dashed up to the
governor's dwelling, and a livery servant, leaping down
from behind, gave a long, thundering knock which raised
every echo in the Old Bailey. The front door was thrown
open, the governor himself rushed down the steps, and,
assisting Lady Ernestina Dysart to alight, he conducted her
with the profoundest manifestations of respect into his
own drawing-room.

" I wish to see my unhappy husband," said the lady,
assuming an air of intense affliction.

" Well, your ladyship, it is a leetle after the usual hours,"
observed the governor, with his blandest tone and utmost
suavity of manner; " but of course I could not for a moment
think of enforcing the gaol regulations in respect to your
ladyship. Will your ladyship see Mr. Dysart in this apart-
ment? "

" No, sir, I thank you," responded Ernestina. " It is
in the gloom and dreariness of his own cell that he requires
consolation, and thither I shall trouble you to conduct me.
But I may as well inform you," she added, with a mysterious
look, " that I cherish every hope of obtaining a reprieve
and a pardon for my unfortunate husband."

" I am delighted to hear it, my lady," exclaimed the
governor. " It is indeed an affair demanding the exercise
of the royal prerogative of mercy," added this gentleman
who a few minutes before had pronounced Varian's case
to be so very black. " Is there anything I can do to cheer
Mr. Dysart's spirits, — anything your ladyship can sug-
gest? "

" I thank you most sincerely," answered Ernestina, with
a smile so gracious and condescending that it quite ravished
the governor, who was one of those persons that consider
the favour of aristocracy to be an inestimable benefit and
would sooner lose their ears or their eyes than incur the
displeasure of this said aristocracy. " Yes, I think you
can do something to cheer poor Dysart," continued the lady;
" and I shall not forget to mention your kindness in terms
of gratitude to my uncle the Marquis of Leveson."

" What can I do to oblige your ladyship? " asked the
governor, now lifted up to the seventh heaven of delight.

" You may cheer my poor husband's spirits from time
to time by assuring him that he is certain of a reprieve

156 THE COURT OF LONDON

and eventual pardon," continued Lady Ernestina Dysart.
" He will be more tranquillized and more confident by
receiving such assurances from your lips, because he may
fancy that when coming from me they are rather the expres-
sion of what I hope and desire than what I am certain of.
Do you comprehend me? "

" Perfectly, my lady," replied the obsequious governor.
" I will seek every opportunity to visit Mr. Dysart for a
few moments, and will hint my conviction that he has
nothing to apprehend, but everything to hope."

" You may do this with the greatest confidence, I can
assure you," said Ernestina, inwardly rejoicing at the ease
with which the man's sycophancy made him her tool in the
matter. Then, apparently in quite a casual way, she
observed, " I can only say, my dear sir, that Lord Leveson
will always be most happy to see you in Albemarle Street,
and that henceforth no guest will be received at his table
with a more cordial welcome than yourself."

The governor was now so enchanted that he knew not
whether he was standing upon his head or his heels; and
he literally confounded himself in bowings and scrapings.
Ernestina rose from the chair which she had taken on
entering the room, and the obsequious governor forthwith
conducted her to the cell in which her husband was con-
fined. He then withdrew, and Ernestina remained alone
in the company of Paul Dysart.

" What intelligence have you for me? " he demanded,
with breathless impatience.

" Good," she replied; then taking from about her person
a document which her husband instantaneously recognized,
the pointed to some writing on the margin, saying, " Read
this."

Dysart's looks at once settled with all the avidity of
suspense upon the writing thus indicated; and when he
beheld that solemn recognition of the pledge contained in
the document, with the prince's signature affixed thereto,
he exclaimed, in a joyous tone, " Thank Heaven! I am
saved! "

" Yes, you have now nothing to dread, Paul," said
Ernestina, appearing to participate in his enthusiastic
delight. " The prince was with me for an hour this morning,
and he did not hesitate to pen of his own accord that anno-

NEWGATE 157

tation on the margin of the paper. But he nevertheless
feels that the matter is a delicate one, and must be managed
with tact and judgment, so as to prevent the public mind
from being outraged by a leniency which is not warranted
by the circumstances. These are the prince's own words;
and he has accordingly hit upon a plan — "

" And that plan? " exclaimed Dysart, impatiently.

" I will explain it to you/' said Ernestina, with a winning
air of apparent sincerity, all the more deeply simulated in
proportion to the ticklish nature of the ground upon which
she was touching. " The prince's idea is that things must
be left to take their usual course until the very last mo-
ment — "

"Ah! I understand you," interrupted Dysart, becoming
ghastly pale. " He means to treat me like one of those
common malefactors who are made to ascend even the very
platform of the scaffold before the reprieve is produced."

" Do not be impatient, and do not give way to passionate
feelings," said Ernestina, as she again secured the document
about her person. " The prince has desired me to submit
two alternatives to your consideration. The first is that
you receive a respite at once, and this to be followed by a
commutation of the sentence to three years' imprisonment
in Newgate; the other is that you receive the respite on
the scaffold, and this to be followed by a free pardon within
a day or two. In either case appearances will be saved,
and the public will have no room to suspect that any private
influences or intrigues of an extraordinary nature have
been brought to bear upon the mind of the prince regent."

" Yes, I see the difficulty in which he is placed," said
Dysart, " and I was not altogether unprepared for some-
thing of this sort. Well, the alternatives do not require
a moment's reflection: I accept the latter, as being the
shortest though the most painful ordeal. As for remaining
cooped up in this infernal prison for three years, I'd sooner
be hanged straight off at once. And, after all, there's no
great harm in mounting the steps of a gibbet, when one
knows that the sheriff has got the reprieve in his pocket."

" This is the course I should have recommended, had
you asked my advice," said Ernestina; " because in ten
days all will be over, and you will be free again."

" And then we will return to the Continent, or go any-

158 THE COURT OF LONDON

where you like," observed Dysart, anxious to show a con-
ciliatory spirit toward his wife, for he more than suspected
that the prince had exacted from her certain favours as
the reward of the acknowledgment written on the margin
of the document. " What do you say, Ernestina? "

" Oh, by all means let us repair to France, at least for a
time," she exclaimed, appearing to catch with avidity at
the proposal. " You have plenty of ready money in your
possession, and I shall manage to get a thousand or two
from my uncle."

" So much the better. By the bye, what did the prince
say when he found that the heroine of his midnight adventure
and Lady Ernestina Dysart were one and the same person? "

" If I told you that he was very sorry to meet me again,
I should deceive you, Paul," she responded, with an arch
look. " Personally, I hate and detest him, but I was pre-
pared to make any sacrifice for your sake. However, do
not let us talk upon that subject. You must now keep up
your spirits as well as you can."

" Oh, I shall be happy enough, my dear," exclaimed her
husband. " Are you to see the prince again shortly? "

" Yes, in a day or two," she replied. " He made me
promise — "

" That's right! " observed Dysart. " Stick close to him.
Not that he can possibly fly from his word — "

" He would not have ratified the document if such had
been his intention," Ernestina hastened to answer. " But
I can tell you something more, Paul — "

" What is it? " he demanded, eagerly.

" The prince has promised that a private intimation shall
be sent to the governor to the effect that the extreme sen-
tence of the law is not to be carried out in your case; and
his object in doing this is that the governor himself may
give you a secret assurance of your eventual safety."

" Ah! now the last remaining scintillation of uneasiness
has become extinguished in my mind," exclaimed Dysart,
rubbing his hands joyously. " Upon my word, my dear
Ernestina, you have managed all this admirably, and my
future conduct shall show my gratitude toward you."

The lady embraced her husband, and then took her
departure. Returning to the governor's room, she again
thanked this functionary for his courtesy and kindness,

NEWGATE 159

and entering the carriage, drove home to Albemarle Street,
rejoicing at the success of her interview with Dysart and the
security of mind into which she had so completely but so
artfully lulled him.

In the course of the afternoon the governor visited the
prisoner's cell; and having inquired with all possible respect
and courtesy after his health, he said, " I think, Mr. Dysart,
that I shall not exceed the bounds of duty by dropping a
hint that may serve to tranquillize your mind."

" You are very good, my dear sir," exclaimed the prisoner.
" And this hint — "

"Is to the effect that you need not apprehend a very
severe carrying out of the law," responded the governor,
with a knowing look. " The fact is, sir, I am a little in the
confidence of certain persons high in authority — "

" Ah! I understand," said Dysart, seeing in this mys-
terious hint on the governor's part the realization of the
announcement made to him by his wife. " It has been
whispered to you that a reprieve and pardon may be con-
fidently relied upon."

" Hush! " observed the governor, placing his finger to
his lip in a meaning manner.

" Say no more," exclaimed Dysart, joyfully. " I under-
stand you, sir."

" But not a word to the turnkeys, not a word even to
your friends," said the governor; " for this is of the nature
of a state secret, Mr. Dysart, and if I have ventured to drop a
hint, it is because I do not like to see you linger in suspense."

Thus speaking, the governor withdrew, and Mr. Paul
Dysart sat down to his dinner as pleasantly and as com-
fortably as if his pardon had already been proclaimed to
the world.

Meantime Lady Ernestina had returned home to Albe-
marle Street, and she also enjoyed her dinner that day
with as much zest as her husband experienced in Newgate.
At about nine o'clock in the evening, Mr. Lawrence Sampson
was announced, and the lady received him with her wonted
affability.

" Sit down, Mr. Sampson," she said, with a gracious stoop
from the pedestal of her aristocratic hauteur, " and take a
glass of wine. I have seen my poor husband to-day, and
broke to his ears the matter which you mentioned to me

160 THE COURT OF LONDON

last evening. I assured him that if he had really indulged
in any love-affair or amorous intrigue unknown to me, I
would freely and cordially forgive him; and I besought him
to tell me the truth for the sake of Mr. Malvern, who was
inconsolable on account of his father's still unexplained
and unaccountable disappearance. But Mr. Dysart assured
me that he had no reason to suspect any female of treachery
toward him. I then showed him the anonymous letter
which had given the information leading to his arrest, but
he did not recognize the handwriting. His manner corrob-
orated his words. I have therefore done all I could for
you in the affair, Mr. Sampson, and in one sense I am sorry
that the result is not more favourable to Mr. Malvern's
hopes of discovering a clue to his father's fate; while, on
the other hand, I rejoice that my husband has proved guilt-
less of any unworthy treatment calculated to evoke a female's
vengeance."

" I thank your ladyship for the trouble you have taken
in the matter," said the officer. " Would you have the
kindness to give me back the anonymous letter? It may
serve on some future occasion — "

" I have locked it up in my writing-desk, Mr. Sampson,"
observed the lady, with the most perfect self-possession,
although, as the reader will recollect, she had consigned the
document to the flames; " but the desk is up-stairs in the
drawing-room, and I will fetch you the note," she added,
rising from her seat.

" I could not think of giving your ladyship so much
trouble," exclaimed Sampson. " Perhaps you will have the
goodness to remit the letter to me by post at your ladyship's
convenience? "

" Most assuredly, Mr. Sampson," said Ernestina. Then,
so soon as Larry had taken his leave, she murmured to her-
self, "Ah! even the cunning Bow Street officer is made
a dupe by me! "

Lounging in an armchair drawn near the fire in the
dining-room, Ernestina sat meditating upon her various
schemes and plots until past eleven o'clock; then, so soon
as the domestics had retired for the night, she proceeded
to assist Mr. Daniel Coffin in taking his departure from the
mansion. Entering her uncle's dressing-room, she opened
the door by means of the secret spring, and the Hangman

NEWGATE 161

instantaneously came forth from the apartment which
was furnished with the luxurious sofas, he having experi-
enced no inclination to entrust himself again to either of
the armchairs in the central room of the suite.

Guided by Ernestina, Coffin descended the stairs on tip-
toe, and when they reached the hall, he said, in a low tone
and with a cunning leer, " Ah! my lady, your friend the
prince is a precious rum customer. He's down to a dodge or
two, he is! "

" But he pays well those who serve him," replied Ernes-
tina, with a look of deep meaning, " and he is remorseless
in his vengeance against those who deceive him."

" I shall be one of them that he pays well, ma'am,"
answered Coffin.

He then stole out of the house, and Ernestina, infinitely
relieved by the departure of a man whose looks always
produced upon her the impression of a hideous reptile's
gaze, tripped up-stairs to her own chamber.

But as she passed the door of her uncle's room, she was
seized with a sudden inclination to return into the mysterious
suit of apartments and explore them fully. The deep silence
that prevailed through the mansion struck, however,
ominously to her soul; and, continuing her way to her own
room, she decided upon postponing the gratification of her
curiosity until another occasion.

CHAPTER XV

A CHAPTER TO WHICH WE CAN GIVE NO TITLE

IT was nine o'clock on the Monday evening which Venetia
had named for her appointment with the prince regent;
and his Royal Highness sat alone in a small but sumptu-
ously furnished room at Carlton House. A side door com-
municated with a bedchamber, which was fitted up with
even a surpassing luxury; but that door was closed for the
present.

The prince reclined upon a sofa in the first-mentioned
apartment, and he was giving free rein to all the voluptuous
thoughts which the image of Venetia could not fail to conjure
up in his easily excitable imagination. Within reach of his
hand stood a table spread with wines of many exquisite
descriptions and a choice dessert; a cheerful fire blazed in
the grate ; the heavy hangings were drawn over the windows,
and the atmosphere was warm and perfumed. A lustre
suspended to the ceiling diffused a rich and mellow light
through the room, and the general aspect of luxurious
comfort was enhanced by the velvet drapery which covered
the doors, as if not even the faintest thrill of a wintry
air should be allowed to penetrate thither.

We said that the prince was yielding himself up to the
pleasures of imagination, as a meet and provocative prelude
to the more real joys that were to come. For he had no
doubt as to Venetians keeping her appointment, inasmuch
as she had written him a note in the morning reiterating
in her own beautiful calligraphy the hurried promise she
had made on the evening of the banquet at Colonel Malpas's
house.

As he thus reclined upon the sofa, confident in the sin-
cerity of his expected charmer, the prince insensibly found

162

TO WHICH WE CAN GIVE NO TITLE 163

himself entering into a comparison between her beauty and
that of every other lovely female who had submitted to his
embraces. Their number was legion, it was true, but still
in a rapid survey did he glance at them all, not forgetting
Octavia Clarendon, Mrs. Fitzherbert, Lady Letitia Lade,
Mrs. Brace, the milliner, the Countess of Jersey, and the
Duchess of Devonshire; and he came at length to the
conclusion that none was to be compared with Venetia.
Nor in this mental review of his almost countless conquests
amongst beauties of all grades and ranks, from the duchess
to the milliner, from the countess to the ballet-dancer, and
from the haughtiest dame to the humblest servant-girl, —
nor in this category, we say, did he forget to include Miss
Bathurst, Agatha Owen, and Lady Ernestina Dysart. He
remembered that the first-named had once been eminently
beautiful; his mind still retained pleasurable impressions
of his amour with Agatha; but chiefly did his fancy gloat
over the superb and voluptuous charms of the impassioned
Ernestina. Between this lady, then, and Venetia did he
hover in a few moments' uncertainty, his memory com-
paring their respective charms, — the eyes, hair, complexion,
and bust of Ernestina, with the eyes, hair, complexion,
and bust of Venetia; but at length, as above stated, he
gave his decision in favour of the latter, Yes, for about
Venetia there was all the first freshness of youth, the bloom
upon the peach that has scarcely come in contact with the
rude hand of man.

And now, as the image of the beauteous creature had
become paramount in his mind, to the exclusion of all the
rest, he felt his impatience for her arrival augmenting every
instant. He looked at his watch; it was ten minutes past
nine — was she not coming? Yes; for scarcely had he
asked himself the question when the door opened from the
landing without, the velvet drapery was pushed aside, and
Venetia was ushered into his presence. The curtain fell
again, the domestic who had escorted her thither closed the
door behind her, and the prince regent sprang forward
to clasp her in his arms.

Venetia had made her appearance closely veiled and
enveloped in an ample cloak, so as to avoid being recognized
by the prince's servants; but she now hastily threw off her
bonnet 'and veil, dropped her cloak, and fell in all the

164 THE COURT OF LONDON

grandeur of her beauty into the outstretched arms of her
royal lover.

" Oh, how magnificent you look! " murmured the
enraptured prince, as he conducted her to a seat after
fondly and fervidly embracing her; then, placing himself
by her side, he contemplated her with the earnest looks
of a devouring sensuousness.

As the light shone upon the beauteous creature, enhancing
the brilliancy of her charms into positive radiance, she
seemed a being of celestial mould and nature. Her very
presence was dazzling and overpowering; for every feature
and contour appeared to possess its own light, — the lustre
of the eyes, the alabaster of the forehead, the vivid redness
of the lips, the snowy whiteness of the neck and bosom,
and the auburn glory of the hair.

She was dressed in a crimson velvet robe, with a low
bodice fitting tight to her shape, and her arms were naked.
The gentle agitation which she experienced had deepened
the rich bloom upon her cheeks, and altogether she looked
so transcendently lovely that the prince felt as if he could
surrender not only his present rank but also the hope of
some day wearing the British crown, rather than resign the
certainty of possessing her this night.

" Dearest — ever dear Venetia," he said, passing one arm
around her neck, and drawing her gently toward him, " is
it indeed possible that the happy moment has arrived for
me to enjoy your love? — or am I plunged in a delicious
dream which is to know the waking of disappointment? "

" Faithful to my promise, I am here," murmured Venetia,
in the melting tones of her sweet, limpid voice. " Do you
remember all the conditions of our compact? "

" You shall recapitulate them, my angel," replied the
prince; " and there is nothing you can demand to which
I shall hesitate to assent."

" First and foremost," said Venetia, " it was agreed that
I should marry in order to save my reputation, and I have
done so."

" Ah! happy Horace Sackville! " exclaimed the prince.
" But tell me, dearest, was he already engaged to you on
that day when we agreed that you should marry? "

" Assuredly not," answered Venetia. " But I was aware
that he formed one of the party of six who had leagued, or,

TO WHICH WE CAN GIVE NO TITLE 165

rather, wagered in the love-campaign; I likewise knew that
he had seen me often and was inspired with an affection
for me, and I consequently felt certain that he would accept
my hand in marriage."

" But does he know — is he aware — '

" That I am come hither this evening? Yes; before we
were married I explained to him that she whom he took
as his wife was pledged to become the mistress of the
prince."

" Truly he must be infatuated with you, my Venetia!
But this is not wonderful; thou art the loveliest woman
that ever trod upon the earth."

" O flatterer! " cried Venetia, with playful remonstrance.
" But I have before told you how readily and fluently these
compliments glide from your tongue."

" By Heaven! they are truths when applied to thee,"
exclaimed the prince, first devouring her with his regards
and then covering her face, shoulders, and bosom with
frenetic kisses. " But you were recapitulating the terms
of our compact? Go on, and let us finish all details savouring
of business, that we may devote ourselves wholly and solely
to the enjoyments of love."

" It was agreed," continued Venetia, " that you were
to find some office for my husband about your royal person,
so that we might have a suite of apartments allotted to us
at Carl ton House."

" To-morrow Horace Sackville shall receive the appoint-
ment of lord steward of my household," said the prince.
" The post has been vacant for these last ten days, and I
cannot more worthily fill it up than by the nomination of
my charming Venetians husband."

" And the name which I bear was also to be gilded with
a peerage," murmured Venetia, now displaying all her most
winning seductiveness.

" That condition shall likewise be kept, angel that thou
art! " cried the regent, straining her in his arms. " Hast
thou aught more to demand? "

" Nothing," responded Venetia, her countenance radiant
with joy and triumph.

" And thou art mine? " said the prince; " tell me that
thou art mine! "

" Yes, I am thine," she murmured, her voice suddenly

166 THE COURT OF LONDON

sinking to a dying tone, as her head drooped upon his
shoulder and she fell upon his breast.

It was still dark, at an early hour in the morning, when
Venetia stole forth from the private door of Carlton Palace.
She was enveloped in her ample cloak and the thick veil
was drawn completely over her countenance, so that not
even the most prying eye could discover the brilliant heroine
of our tale through that deep disguise.

Hurrying to the nearest hackney-coach stand, she entered
a vehicle and ordered the driver to proceed toward Knights-
bridge. When within a short distance of Acacia Cottage,
she stopped the coach and descended, performing the rest
of the way on foot. Immediately upon reaching her home
and tapping gently with her hand at the front door, it was
opened by Horace; and passing in, she stole noiselessly
up-stairs, followed by her husband.

The moment they were together in their chamber, and
Venetia had thrown aside her bonnet and cloak, she flung a
rapid and anxious glance upon her husband, by the light of
the candle which was burning upon the toilet-table. She
saw that his countenance was very pale, but that he en-
deavoured to subdue the emotion which he felt ; and throwing
herself into his arms, she gave vent to a violent fit of weeping.

" For Heaven's sake, tranquillize yourself, my dearest
Venetia," murmured Horace, in a soothing tone, as he
strained her to his breast. " These sobs will be overheard;
the domestics will soon be about in the house, and they will
catch the sounds of your grief."

" But do you not now hate, loathe, and despise me? "
asked Venetia, suddenly wiping her eyes and gazing anxiously
up into his countenance.

" Do you not hate, loathe, and despise me for having
permitted this? " he inquired, with some degree of bitter-
ness in his tone. " But let us not enter again and again
and again upon the. discussion of a subject on which we have
already talked so seriously and so often, and which indeed,"
he added, " has now proceeded too far to admit of recall."

" Yes, but has it left no regret behind, Horace? " asked
Venetia.

" In one sense, certainly," he exclaimed. " But the neces-
sity which has ruled us was almost as inexorable as destiny

TO WHICH WE CAN GIVE NO TITLE 167

itself. Indeed, it was our destiny, and therefore regret is
useless. Rather let us look to the brightest side — "

" Oh, yes, if you really have the heart to do so/' exclaimed
Venetia, joyfully. -" Well, our ambition will be gratified,
our hopes will be realized, and this day's Gazette will elevate
you to rank and to honour."

" You are to be a peeress, then, Venetia," said Horace,
caressing her fondly.

" Yes, because you are to become a peer," she replied.

" And we are to remove to Carlton House? "

" Immediately. The post of lord steward is yours."

" Oh, now you will shine as the most brilliant star in the
courtly sphere, my charming Venetia."

" And you will have an opportunity of shining also, my
handsome Horace."

" These are indeed dazzling and brilliant prospects,"
exclaimed the young man; " and I suppose it is mortal
destiny that no ambition can be accomplished without the
sacrifice of some of our best feelings."

" But if we do not lose our love for each other, Horace,"
said Venetia, " may we not be happy, even though our
happiness be purchased by my dishonour? "

" We will make ourselves happy," observed the husband,
emphatically; but still he sighed as he spoke these words,
and the forcefulness of his accentuation was only assumed
suddenly to drown that sigh.

Venetia sighed also, for she was not so far tainted with
depravity, especially after this her first fault, as to be other-
wise than keenly sensible of the fact that it was now a
polluted woman whom her husband was clasping in his arms.
They retired to rest, for it was still too early to go down-
stairs; and Venetia was glad when the candle was extin-
guished and she could conceal her countenance from the
eyes of Horace, for it was suffused with burning blushes.

But they slept, and at a late hour they rose; and now
the first feelings of embarrassment, confusion, and even
grief had subsided. They began to look their shame more
boldly in the face, and the result was that they could soon
look at each other also without blushing. The forbidden
fruit was plucked and eaten, they had quitted the paradise
of nuptial purity, they now knew all their moral nakedness,
and speedily ceased to be ashamed. It appeared as if by a

168 THE COURT OF LONDON

mutual but tacit resolve they had suddenly determined to
avoid the topic altogether; and they now looked forward to
the happiness that was to be derived from brilliancy of
position, rather than from the sweet and unimpaired do-
mesticity of the married state.

Mrs. Arbuthnot and Penelope were staying with Miss
Bathurst in Stratton Street; and thus the newly married
pair had no one to observe the changing condition of their
minds. The servants were of course ignorant that Venetia
had passed the greater portion of the night away from
home, and thus her honour was likewise safe.

In the course of the day two official documents were de-
livered at Acacia Cottage. One contained the patent
elevating Mr. Horace Sackville to the rank of a baron of
the realm, by the style and title of Lord Sackville; the
second appointed him to the post of lord steward in the
household of his Royal Highness the Prince Regent.

The entire fashionable world was struck with astonishment
at these announcements, when they appeared in the Gazette,
and there was no difficulty in attributing them to the fact
that the newly created nobleman possessed as his wife the
most beautiful woman in England. But scandal dared not
raise its voice too loud, much less openly point a scornful
finger at Lord and Lady Sackville, inasmuch as the matri-
monial gloss was shed upon whatever amount of frailty
there might be in the matter. The consequence was that
for several days running Acacia Cottage was crowded with
visitors who called to congratulate the noble pair, and the
Knightsbridge road was thronged with the carriages of what
is called the elite of the aristocracy hastening thither to pay
their court to the new lord steward and the prince's new
mistress.

At the end of the week Horace and Venetia removed to
the apartments which had been provided for them in Carlton
House, — the faithful Jessica, Plumpstead, and the serious-
looking footman still remaining in their service.

CHAPTER XVI

THE GIBBET

BETWEEN nine and ten o'clock on Sunday evening several
groups of persons began to collect in the Old Bailey, but
chiefly in the wide open space opposite Newgate. During
the past week the recorder had made his report to the prince
regent relative to the state of the prison, and in that report
one individual was named as being under sentence of death.
In the case of this person it appeared as if the law was to
be allowed to take its course, for a warrant had been issued
for his execution, and hence the assembling of the groups
of idlers on the eve of the fatal Monday.

The person thus alluded to was Paul Dysart.

Chill and misty was this Sunday evening, dark, sombre,
and awe-inspiring was the aspect of Newgate through the
deepening gloom. Shivering, ragged, half-starved wretches
gathered near the debtor's door, whispering, as they pointed
to it, " That's the place the man who's to be hung will come
out of to-morrow morning! " Others posted themselves
on the very spot close by where the scaffold would be placed,
saying, in subdued voices, "It is just here that the drop
will fall beneath his feet! " Farther on, other groups were
collected near the entrance of the press-yard, observing
amongst themselves, " The gibbet will be wheeled out of
this place! " In fact, there was not a scene, a spot, nor a
detail connected with the awful tragedy of a public execution
that escaped comment or explanation on the part of the
idlers who were already gathering to the theatre of the
forthcoming spectacle.

Soon after ten o'clock on this same Sunday evening a
private carriage drove up to the Saracen's Head on Snow
Hill, and six gentlemen alighted.

169

170 THE COURT OF LONDON

" You can come for us to-morrow morning at nine o'clock/'
said one of the party, addressing himself to the livery
servant in attendance upon the carriage.

" Yes, my lord," was the reply.

" What makes you say nine, Curzon? " demanded another
of the party. " It will be all over at five minutes past
eight."

" But we shall stop to see the body cut down after hanging
an hour, eh? " exclaimed the earl.

" Ah! that's different," observed the other. " I forgot
this portion of the ceremony," he added, coolly, as he
whiffed his cigar. " To be sure! We won't miss any act in
the Newgate drama."

His companions laughed, and as the carriage drove away,
they all entered the coffee-room of the Saracen's Head,
cracking jokes and indulging in a variety of witty sayings
and repartees as they traversed the inn-yard.

The party consisted of the Earl of Curzon, who is already
well known to our readers, the Honourable George Mac-
namara and Lieutenant Apsley, both of whom have been pre-
viously mentioned, Lord Plantagenet Tithtide, a young
nobleman who had just come of age and just got into the
House of Commons for a pocket-borough in the gift of his
father, the Duke of Addlebranes, the Marquis of Brandyford,
a peer of the realm, and who infinitely preferred the excite-
ment of wrenching off knockers to taking part in the prosy
debates of the Upper House, and Count d'Orsayville, a
foreign adventurer who had worked his way into the very
best society, so that he set the fashion for all the male
members of the higher class, and was an immense favourite
amongst all the ladies of the same sphere. The count
sported a beautiful moustache, was really very handsome,
possessed the most fascinating manners, and wore a semimil-
itary cloak the cut of which was the envy of all his male ac-
quaintances.

On entering the coffee-room, this delectable party flung
themselves each upon a chair, one yawning, another sprawl-
ing out his legs, a third putting his legs upon an adjacent
table, a fourth laughing heartily at nothing, a fifth uttering
an oath by way of amusement (for he had really nought to
swear at), and the Earl of Curzon (who made the sixth)
ringing the bell so furiously that the wire snapped in twain.

THE GIBBET 171

" Now. waiter," said this last-mentioned personage, when
the tavern functionary made his appearance, " we want
a private sitting-room for the night."

" Yes, my lord," responded the waiter, to whom the Earl
of Curzon was known.

" And no end of whithkey punth," cried Lord Plantagenet
Tithtide, who had the misfortune to lisp somewhat, — a
circumstance which did not disqualify him from becoming
a Member of Parliament, because he was a lord.

" And a box of the best cigars, wai-tar! " roared out the
Marquis of Brandyford. " Now mind they're good, you
unhung scoundrel, you, or, by Jove, I'll punch your head
into a jelly for you! "

" And a demn'd good fire bethidth," added Lord Plan-
tagenet. " But don't neglecth the whithkey punth, you
pwethiouth wathcal! "

" Vot you call de viskey pohnch vare good, — vare good,"
observed the Count d'Orsayville.

The waiter promised instantaneous compliance with all
the instructions he had received; and as he retired from the
room the Marquis of Brandyford sent the cushion of a chair
spinning after him, but the domestic, who was well on his
guard against his lordship's tricks, nimbly avoided the
missile. The freak, however, caused the entire party to
laugh immoderately, and Lord Plantagenet Tithtide de-
clared that it was " ekthellenth sporth," while the count
exclaimed, " Vare good! Vare good! "

In the course of half an hour the private sitting-room was
announced to be in readiness, and thither the aristocratic
company repaired, the Marquis of Brandyford tripping up
a commercial traveller whom they met upon the stairs, and
then gravely apologizing to him for the " accidental occur-
rence." This proceeding excited another burst of uproarious
laughter, which was prolonged by the circumstance of the
said humourous marquis kissing an old charwoman of seventy
who was clearing away some things upon the landing.

The room to which the waiter escorted the party was the
best in the house; for although the landlord was fully
prepared to find everything smashed to pieces in the morn-
ing, he was equally aware that his bill for the damage would
be liberally paid, — and, indeed, he was not altogether sorry
at the prospect of thus having an opportunity of furnishing

172 THE COURT OF LONDON

that particular apartment anew. A blazing fire roared half-
way up the chimney, dessert, wine, and materials for punch
were spread upon the table, and a box of cigars likewise
greeted the view of the aristocratic convivialists.

" Now we'll make ourselves comfortable till the morning,"
said the Honourable George Macnamara.

" And I'll brew the punch," exclaimed Lieutenant Apsley,
tucking up his coat-sleeves.

" No bwandy nor wum, Apthley, mind! " observed Lord
Plantagenet; " only whithkey, and be thure and queeth
loth of lemonth."

"I'll be hanged if I'll drink any of your infernal con-
coctions," vociferated Lord Brandyford. " True to my
name, I mean to get as drunk as blazes on brandy."

" Vare good, markee, vare good! " exclaimed the count.
" You shall have de true English taste. But why for you
not have de port are? Wot you call de pot of portare most
best for you, markee, me tink."

" Oh, deuce take the swipes when one means to get jolly/'
said the marquis.

" Tho I thay," cried Lord Plantagenet. " You thould
wub the lumpth of thugar againth the peel of the lemonth,
Apthley. If you don't, you'll not thucktheed in bwewing
punth at all dwinkable."

" Leave Apsley to manage it, Tithtide," said the Earl of
Curzon. " He always brews for the guards' mess, and no one
can do it better. I wonder what the devil Dysart is thinking
of now. He little suspects that so many of his friends are at
hand to see him dance his last fling."

" Vare good! Vare good! " ejaculated the count.

" But if a wepwieve thould come at the lath moment,
we thall be mithewably balked and diththappointed. It
would weally be too bad of Dythart to acthept it after all the
twouble we've given ourthelvth."

" Dat vare good, milor, vare good! " cried the count,
almost going into ecstasies.

" I saw the prince yesterday," said Curzon, " and he
assured me that, as the jury did not recommend Dysart to
mercy, he had no alternative but to allow the law to take
its course."

" Oh! if the pwinth said that," cried Lord Plantagenet,
a considerable weight now taken from his mind, " we are all

THE GIBBET 173

thafe. I never yet thaw an ekthecuthion, and wouldn't
mith the pwethent occathion for a thouthand guineath."

" Vare good! " cried the count. " 'Tis de fine old English
custom to hang up as many of de English people as de law
shall allow."

" Ah! we beat you, count, you see/' exclaimed the Mar-
quis of Brandyford, " in our public executions. Give me the
excitement of one good hanging-scene in preference to all
your guillotining."

" Tho I thay," said the lisping nobleman, who was ama-
zingly fond of hearing himself talk. " But I am athtonithed
that the influenth of Lady Ernethtina and the Marquith
of Levethon did not thucktheed in getting Dythart off."

" The marquis hates him," said Curzon. " Moreover,
he is on the Continent, and I have no doubt he went thither
to be out of the way at the present time."

" Well, I cannot say that I ever liked Dysart much,"
observed Lieutenant Apsley, as he squeezed the lemons
into the punch-bowl. " Besides, that affair with young
Sefton was a downright murder."

"To be sure," exclaimed the Honourable George Mac-
namara, " and he deserves to be hanged for it. But, by
the bye, we must tell that scoundrel of a waiter not to go
to bed all night, as we shall want breakfast at six or seven
o'clock in the morning."

" And let us send him to hire a couple of windows for us
exactly facing Newgate," suggested the Marquis of Brandy-
ford.

" Yeth, we muth take care and wetain fwont theath to
witneth the performanth," cried Lord Plantagenet.

" Vare good! Vare good! " exclaimed the count.

The waiter was accordingly summoned; and having
received his instructions in pursuance of the resolves just
adopted, he departed at once to secure a couple of windows
at some house fronting the prison. In about ten minutes
he returned with the gratifying intelligence that he had
succeeded in retaining a first-floor room opposite Newgate,
for the moderate sum of ten guineas. This bargain was
pronounced " dirt cheap " by the aristocratic band of
elegants; and the Marquis of Brandyford flung his purse at
the waiter's head, bidding him " go and settle for the room,
and keep the rest for himself." The purse hit the waiter

174 THE COURT OF LONDON

upon the right eye, which it completely bunged up; but as
the use of the left optic still remained, and as the heaviness
of the purse convinced the waiter that it contained a tolerable
quantity of golden salve, he took the joke with a proportion-
ate amount of good humour.

But leaving the aristocratic party to the enjoyment of
their punch, discourse, and practical freaks, we will pene-
trate into the prison of Newgate and glance at Mr. Dysart
in the condemned cell.

It was now eleven o'clock, and the criminal was alone in
that dungeon. Upon the little round table stood a cold
fowl and a bottle of wine, to which he was paying his respects
with all imaginable ease and comfort; for the nearer the
hour approached for him to mount the scaffold, the more
joyfully did he look forward to it as the term of the ordeal
through which he was passing. In plainer terms, he was
so well convinced that the reprieve would be produced the
moment the halter was affixed to his neck, and that a free
pardon would follow as a matter of course in a few days, that
he was actually impatient for the hour which would terminate
what he now looked upon as mere " bother, excitement, and
annoyance."

Ernestina had visited him daily since his condemnation;
and on each occasion she had some new proof to offer of
the prince's kind feelings toward him. Moreover, the
governor, entirely misled by her representations and obse-
quiously anxious to oblige her, had given Dysart the most
positive assurances that the sheriff would produce the
reprieve upon the scaffold. He had even gone so far as to
hint the same to the chaplain; and this reverend gentleman,
while discussing a bottle of wine with Mr. Dysart in his cell,
had reiterated the governor's assurances. Under all these
circumstances, therefore, the prisoner entertained no fear
as to the result; and while the gathering crowds in the Old
Bailey were observing amongst themselves how dreadful
his feelings must be, he was comfortably regaling his appe-
tite on a cold capon and an excellent bottle of sherry.

Having partaken of his supper, Dysart undressed and
retired to bed, where he speedily fell into a sound sleep.
As the night advanced, the multitudes increased outside
the gaol, and at five o'clock in the morning the carpenters
made their appearance to erect the barrier around the

THE GIBBET 175

debtor's door, in order to keep back the pressure of the
crowds. Despite the noise of their hammers, the criminal
slept on.

At six o'clock the platform of the gallows was wheeled
out of the press-yard, and stationed on the verge of the
pavement at the debtor's door. The carpenters then pro-
ceeded to fix the ladder and erect the huge beams of the
gibbet, all their operations being viewed with intense curi-
osity and deep interest by the multitude that was swelling
in bulk and volume every moment.

From an early hour a black fellow, roughly dressed and
carrying a huge club in his hand, had been lurking near
the debtor's door; and when the barrier was put up, he
elbowed his way to a place as near that door as possible.
There he remained fixed like a statue, leaning with his arms
upon the barrier, and neither addressing a word to a soul
nor appearing to pay any attention to the discourse that was
going on in his hearing.

It was seven o'clock in the morning before Dysart awoke
from his slumber, and he would perhaps have slept on, had
not the entrance of the chaplain disturbed him. He in-
quired the hour, and on being informed, was astonished to
hear that it was so late.

" You have slept well? " said the chaplain.

" Never better in my life," responded the criminal, gaily.
" I will now get up."

" And in ten minutes I will return," said the chaplain.

The reverend gentleman then quitted the cell, and Dysart
proceeded to wash and dress himself with as much unconcern
as he had displayed when eating his supper overnight. On
the return of the chaplain, he asked if the sheriff had yet
arrived, but the response was in the negative. The ordinary
then hinted that it would be proper for them to join in
prayer, but Dysart exclaimed, " You don't think, sir,
that it is at all necessary just now, do you? "

" Prayer is always seasonable and of much avail," was the
chaplain's response.

" But you feel convinced that I shall be reprieved? " said
Dysart, with some little manifestation of uneasiness, or
rather, perhaps, of impatience.

:' The governor has assured me that such will be the case,"
answered the ordinary, " and I believe him to be far too

176 THE COURT OF LONDON

cautious a man to venture such a statement unless on good
authority."

" When the sheriff comes I can ask him," observed Dysart.

" My good friend, that will be a breach of confidence,"
said the chaplain, in a tone or remonstrance, " and would
probably lead to the loss of our situations for both the
governor and myself."

" True! I had forgotten that," exclaimed Dysart. " Will
you be so kind as to ask the governor to come to me? "

" Certainly," replied the chaplain; and he once more
quitted the cell.

When left alone, Dysart walked backward and forward
with a restlessness that he had not before experienced. He
endeavoured to shake off the feeling, but it was rapidly
growing upon him. Horrible thoughts began to spring up
in his mind. What if the prince should have been playing
him false all along, or alter his resolve at the last moment?
What if Ernestina had been deceiving him? Or suppose
that every intention and every assurance had been sincere
in those quarters, might not the reprieve come too late?
These thoughts were dreadful. The unhappy man, hitherto
lulled into complete security, had now suddenly awakened,
as it were, to a galling, goading, agonizing sense of the
tremendous fact that his life hung to a thread. He would
have screamed out, — he could have yelled with mortal
anguish, but at the instant the paroxysm reached its crisis
the chaplain returned to the cell, followed by the governor.

The expression of the two functionaries' countenances
instantaneously relieved Dysart 's awful terrors. The effect
was the same as the sudden pouring of oil upon the raging
billows; and even before a word was spoken, he felt angry
with himself for having yielded to the influence of such
agonizing alarm.

" Good morning, Mr. Dysart," said the governor, taking
him by the hand; then, in a lower voice, he added, " A
sealed packet from the Home Office, directed to the sheriff,
has just arrived. But for Heaven's sake do not appear to
know this fact; it is as much as my place is worth to have
told you."

" Not on any consideration would I injure you, my dear
sir," answered Dysart, joyfully pressing the governor's
hand, " after all your kindness to me. But is the sheriff

THE GIBBET 177

come? Has he opened the packet? Does it contain the
reprieve? "

" It cannot possibly be anything else," returned the gov-
ernor. " The sheriff will not be here till a quarter to eight,
nor will he open the packet in my presence. I dare not even
ask him what it contains, but I have not the slightest —
no, not the slightest doubt — "

" What o'clock is it now? " demanded the criminal,
hurriedly.

" Half-past seven. Will you take some breakfast? In-
deed, you must appear as if you anticipated the very worst/'
said the governor, with marked emphasis.

" Since I have nothing to apprehend, I can assume an
air which shall pass for firmness," replied Dysart. " Yes,
let me have some breakfast; it will warm me."

Leaving the interior of the prison for a few moments, we
will again glance to the aspect of the scene outside.

The morning was dull and gloomy, and soon after the
break of day, a fine mizzling rain had begun to fall. The
crowd was immense. To the farther extremity of the Old
Bailey in the one direction, and to the very verge of Smith-
field market on the other, it was a complete ocean of human
faces. Men and women, — numbers of the latter with young
children in their arms, — boys and girls, even of a tender
age, all were packed as densely as the aggregation of such a
mass of life could possibly become. Every window and
housetop commanding a view of the gaol's front and the
looming gallows had been put into requisition by the anxious
spectators. Precisely opposite the gibbet, a first-floor
apartment was tenanted for the nonce by the aristocrats
who had passed the night at the Saracen's Head; and
having well breakfasted off devilled kidneys, coffee, and
toast, these worthies found themselves in an excellent
humour to enjoy the drama about to be enacted.

At a quarter to eight one of the sheriffs, the two under-
sheriffs, and a couple of aldermen arrived at the gaol. They
were immediately ushered into the governor's drawing-room,
and the sealed packet from the Home Office was delivered
to the sheriff. He at once retired into a private room to
open it, and having perused the contents, which were laconic
enough, he carefully consigned the despatch to his pocket.
On returning to the drawing-room, his countenance, re-

178 THE COURT OF LONDON

maining as composed as before, afforded not the least indica-
tion of the nature of the official document which he had
received, while etiquette forbade even the under-sheriffs
to venture an inquiry upon the point.

" I understood you on Saturday," said the sheriff, address-
ing himself to the governor, " that there was no person then
engaged to officiate as the functionary of the law."

" And such is still the case, sir," replied the governor.
" I believed that some criminal within the walls would have
accepted the post of public executioner, but only a few
minutes before your arrival the turnkeys assured me that
not a single soul would undertake the office."

" Then a proclamation must be made to the multitude
outside the prison," said the sheriff. " I will proceed to
fulfil that duty at once."

Accordingly, followed by the under-sheriffs and the
governor, the high civic functionary repaired to the debtor's
door, and ascending the steps of the gallows, he mounted
the platform. A dead silence fell upon the congregated mass
of people, the murmuring of their myriad voices suddenly
ceasing, and the oscillation of the living waves subsiding
into a calm. Every eye was fixed with an expression of
curiosity and suspense upon the sheriff, as he proceeded to
make the proclamation, which was to the effect that an
individual was required to undertake the office of public
executioner, and that should such volunteering individual
have in any way rendered himself amenable or obnoxious
to the law, he (the sheriff) was empowered to offer him a free
pardon for his offences.

Scarcely were the words spoken, when a loud voice ex-
claimed, " I accept the proposition! " and the savage-looking
black fellow already mentioned jumped upon the barrier
and scrambled up to the platform of the gallows.

" Hooray! " shouted the multitudes, which for a moment
had feared that they were to be balked of the spectacle they
had crowded thither to behold.

Nor less were the aristocratic exquisites at the two windows
opposite rejoiced to find that the drama would proceed with-
out the interruption that had for an instant appeared to
threaten its tragic development.

The sheriff descended from the scaffold and reentered
the prison, followed by the under-sheriffs, the governor,

THE GIBBET 179

and the volunteer hangman; and, the clock having now
struck eight, they all proceeded to the condemned cell, where
Dysart and the chaplain were together.

The criminal, fully satisfied that his reprieve was in the
sheriff's pocket, presented an aspect of firmness. and bowed
courteously to the civic authorities. These functionaries
remained in the passage outside the door of the cell, which
was now left open, and the sheriff, addressing himself to
the chaplain, said, " I wish to speak to you a moment."

The ordinary hastened out of the cell, and as the sheriff
drew him aside, a little way down the corridor, Dysart per-
ceived that he drew forth from his pocket a despatch of the
invariable official shape and bearing a large seal.

" That is my reprieve! " thought Dysart, and the flood
of life circulated with a more rapid flow in his veins.

" Beg pardon, sir," said the volunteer hangman, producing
his whipcord to pinion the criminal's arms; then, as he drew
the criminal gently aside toward the farther extremity of
the cell, he hastily whispered, " You've nothing to fear, Mr.
Dysart. The sheriff has got your reprieve, and I have seen
it."

The criminal had recoiled loathingly from the first touch
of the hangman, and the more so on account of his repulsive
look, for the fellow's face was black as that of a negro; but
the voice instantaneously sounded familiar to Dysart's
ear, and surveying the wretch's countenance attentively,
he recognized through the soot and grime that covered it the
features of Daniel Coffin.

Glancing toward the door, and observing that no one
was noticing him particularly at the instant, Dysart gave
the Hangman a nod of recognition; then, in a scarcely
audible tone, he said, " You have positively seen the re-
prieve? "

" I saw the sheriff show it to the under-sheriffs, and even
heard him read the private instructions on the margin, re-
turned Coffin, in an equally low voice, as he pinioned the
arms of the criminal.

" And those instructions — what are they? " demanded
Dysart, with nervous impatience.

" That the reprieve will not be produced till the moment
the drop is ready to fall," responded the Hangman. " So you
needn't be alarmed, sir; and in a quarter of an hour

180 THE COURT OF LONDON

you will find yourself safe and sound back in this cell
again."

" You are a good fellow, Coffin, for being anxious thus to
reassure me," said Dysart, trembling somewhat with excite-
ment, but not from actual fear.

" You've always behaved like a gentleman to me, sir,"
replied the Hangman, " and I should have been sorry
indeed to tuck you up. But now's the time to move
for'ard."

Having thus spoken in a hurried whisper, the Hangman
signified aloud to the governor that everything was ready,
and the procession was formed. The chaplain and sheriff,
who had remained outside together conversing in the passage,
went first. Then came Dysart, with his arms pinioned, and
closely followed by the Hangman, the governor, under-
sheriffs, aldermen, and a few of the gaol officials bringing up
the rear.

Along two or three stone passages did the mournful
procession advance; and now the tolling of St. Sepulchre's
bell became more and more plainly audible to the ear. Again
did a sudden terror strike to the very heart's core of the
criminal. Heavens! if the reprieve, the assurances that had
hitherto sustained him, the promise of life, pardon, and
liberty, — O God! if all these were but the delusions of his
brain, the phantoms of his own imagination! That knell
which rang so ominously, the solemn tread of the procession
through the vaulted passages, the murmuring of the multi-
tudes without, and now the deep voice of the chaplain
commencing the service for the dead, — oh, what could all
this mean? What did it signify? Wherefore this tremendous
parade, this pomp and display of death itself, if all were
to end in a continuance of life? And that chaplain's voice,
did it breathe an accent of hope? Oh, no, no! It was pro-
found, solemn, even sepulchral, as if warning him in unmis-
takable tones that this was indeed no mockery, but an awful,
appalling, stupendous reality. Yes, there was death in all
this, — death — death! And the hideous conviction struck
to the soul of Dysart that he was duped, deluded, deceived,
— ay, unto the very verge of that grave which was already
yawning at his feet.

Such were the thoughts that swept, ghastly as a train of
spectres and swift as a flight of birds, through the imagina-

THE GIBBET 181

tion of Dysart. But the next instant his presence of mind
returned, and all in a moment did he marshal and review
in his fancy the circumstances that were favourable to him.
The governor had solemnly affirmed that a despatch had
arrived from the Home Office; he himself had seen the
sheriff produce this despatch in order to display it to the
chaplain; and Daniel Coffin had given him assurances
relative to the nature of its contents. It must be, then, a
reprieve — it could be nothing else; oh, no, it could be
nothing else!

But this hideous uncertainty, — the agonies, the tortures,
the excruciations of a thousand racks were comprised therein.
Oh, if he had not been so rash, so precipitate in trusting to
others! If he had accepted the alternative of the three
years' imprisonment, he would at least have been spared
these immitigable horrors, these rending agonies. But was
it too late? No; he would tell the sheriff and the governor
everything, — how his wife held the solemnly recorded
pledge of the prince regent, how the compromise of three
years' imprisonment had been offered him, and how he
would now rather accept this proposal than proceed any
farther in the pathway which terminated at the scaffold.

But, oh, miserable wretch that he was, his tongue clave
to the roof of his mouth, he could not speak, he felt as if
burning ashes were in his throat. Horror of horrors! what
was he to do? Fleet and fast did his thoughts thus travel
through his brain. Travel! They swept along quicker than
the lightning. A whole volume would not contain the reflec-
tions which he thus made in the time that his feet were only
taking a dozen steps. The page which now affords a succinct
outline of those thoughts sinks into utter insignificance
when compared with the vast folios and bulky tomes that
these ideas, if chronicled at length, would fill. His brain was
on fire; it whirled, whirled, and yet he could not give utter-
ance to a single one of those myriad million thoughts that
were thus sweeping, dashing, flying, gushing, tearing through
that maddening brain.

And now the breeze suddenly blows more freshly upon his
countenance, and at the same instant his eyes, plunging
through the opening of a low narrow doorway, recoil, as it
were, from the sinister object which bursts upon them.
For he is now traversing the little kitchen which is just

182 THE COURT OF LONDON

inside that ominous-looking door whereon no eye ever fails
to linger a moment when passing along the front of New-
gate.

" Courage! " whispers a voice in Dysart 's ear; he looks
aside for an instant, and beholds the blackened countenance
of the Hangman.

Recalled to himself, as it were, from a hideous dream in
which he appeared to have been walking, Dysart does
summon all his courage to his aid; and fortunately for the
complete gathering of his presence of mind at this supreme
moment, he observes something white projecting from the
sheriff's pocket. Ah! it is the reprieve, — the reprieve
which he has placed thus handy, so that it may be drawn
forth in a moment. After all, Dysart feels that he is safe;
and he ascends the steps of the scaffold, pinioned and trussed
for death, with the conviction that he shall speedily descend
those steps again to enter upon a new lease of life.

A solemn stillness once more falls upon the crowd, and
not a murmur is heard. His is not a crime which calls for
the expression of public opinion in yells and execrations,
and therefore not a reproachful voice is heard, not an abusive
syllable is uttered.

A dimness comes upon Dysart 's eyes; he closes them
hard, then opens them promptly again, and his sight has
now a horrible clearness. The rapid glance which he flings
right and left shows him the countless myriads of human
faces all turned toward that black funereal eminence on
which he stands. The knell of St. Sepulchre's Church falls
like a sledge-hammer upon his brain. The eyes of the
multitudes seem to pierce him through and through. And
these are his sensations during the first quarter of a min-
ute that he stands upon the scaffold; but then in that quar-
ter of a minute are concentrated whole ages and ages of
sense, feeling, faculty, and circumstance.

He is now recalled to a livelier and keener appreciation
of his position by the touch of the Hangman, who never-
theless again breathes the word " Courage " in his ear.
He strives to speak; but at the instant his lips are wavering,
the halter circles his neck. A shriek rises to the very tip of
his tongue, but it is stifled by the sudden drawing down of
the nightcap over his face. Then the fingers of the Hangman
are lifted from him, and he hears the wretch hasten away,

THE GIBBET 183

his heavy feet stamping upon the hollow platform and then
rushing down the ladder.

For never, never were all Dysart's faculties and organs of
sense so acute as upon the present occasion; his very looks
can penetrate dimly through the cotton nightcap drawn
over his face.

But ah! the sudden sound as of a bolt touched beneath
his feet came thrilling up to his ear; and now again — but oh,
with what an overwhelming force! — struck upon his soul
the conviction that he was betrayed. Yes, now 'twas sure,
certain, beyond all doubt. O horror, horror! horror of
horrors! he was there on the drop — 'twas giving way
beneath his feet — "

It fell! The blood gushed upward like lightning into his
brain, strong spasms convulsed him, and in a few moments
he hung a lifeless corpse.

The aristocratic party at the windows opposite remained
until nine o'clock, when the body was cut down. They then
returned to the Saracen's Head, paid the bill liberally, and
took their departure in the Earl of Curzon's carriage toward
the West End.

But in the meantime the governor of Newgate was enter-
taining the sheriff, the under-sheriffs, and the chaplain at
breakfast, according to the custom which prevailed in those
times relative to the mornings of public execution.

"Poor Lady Ernestina! " said the governor, "she will
be dreadfully cut up. She all along made sure of her husband
being reprieved; and when she left him last evening she
expressed her conviction that she should meet him again
to-day. From what she condescended to tell me, I also
made certain that the extreme sentence would never be
carried out."

" Such also was my opinion," observed the chaplain. " In
fact, when you, sir," - addressing himself to the sheriff, —
" called me out of the prisoner's cell and produced that paper
from your pocket, I made sure that it was the reprieve.
You might have observed how startled I was when I looked
over its contents."

" I did not pay particular notice," said the sheriff, with an
air of indifference, as he ate his muffin. " But, by the bye,
you did not see it," he observed, turning toward the governor
and the under-sheriffs.

184 THE COURT OF LONDON

Thus speaking, he tossed the paper across the table; and
the individuals to whom he had last addressed himself
hastened to make themselves acquainted with its con-
tents.

It ran as follows:

HOME OFFICE, Saturday evening, Oct. 20.

" SIR: — I am desired by the secretary of state to direct
your attention to the demoralizing effect of capital criminals
addressing observations from the scaffold to the assembled
crowd; and it is requisite that this display, which has been
much too common of late, should be prevented. I have
therefore to request that henceforth the scene outside the
gaol of Newgate, on the occasion of a public execution, shall
be abbreviated as much as possible; and I have further to
desire that you will have the goodness to communicate this
letter to the reverend ordinary of Newgate.

" I have the honour to remain, etc.

" To the Sheriff of London:'

This despatch was duly signed by the under-secretary of
state for the Home Department. The governor, on reading
it, exchanged significant glances with the chaplain, as much
as to imply their regret at having been led by circum-
stances to buoy up Dysart with the hope of a reprieve until
nearly the last minute; but they nevertheless kept the
matter scrupulously secret in their own breasts. Nor did the
governor entertain the slightest suspicion that he had all
along been made a tool in the hands of Lady Ernestina
Dysart, in thus lulling her husband into a false security.

CHAPTER XVII

THE PREFECTURE OF POLICE

A MONTH had now elapsed since Jocelyn Loftus was so
suddenly consigned to a mysterious imprisonment in Paris,
on the ground of some defect or error of nomenclature in his
passport; and it will be remembered that he was thus
held captive, by order of the prefect of police, at the mansion
of the prefecture itself.

The room to which he was conducted has already been
described as small and indifferently appointed. A tent-
bedstead in an alcove, or recess, a table, a couple of chairs,
a washing-stand, and two or three other necessaries, con-
stituted the furniture. There were two windows, each well
protected with iron bars, and looking down into a gloomy
courtyard surrounded with the high walls belonging to other
portions of the same building, so that escape in that quarter
appeared to be impossible. The door was massive and
studded with large iron nails; bolts had creaked and chains
had rattled outside when it was closed upon the prisoner;
and indeed every circumstance but too plainly indicated
that this was in all respects a prison-chamber. Let us add
that it was on the first story and was approached by a long
dark corridor, in which Jocelyn was occasionally allowed
to walk, and our description is as complete as the purposes
of the narrative require.

We stated that while Jocelyn was being conveyed in the
hackney-coach to the prefecture of police, his own conjectures
furnished him with some faint glimmering of the real truth
as to the cause of his arrest. The brief examination he had
undergone before the prefect himself confirmed those sus-
picions which he had already entertained; nor had he much
difficulty in divining who was the real author of his present

185

186 THE COURT OF LONDON

imprisonment. He therefore now blamed himself bitterly
for having rushed so precipitately on the enterprise with
the name of Jocelyn Loftus.

But now let us specially note the incidents of his first day's
incarceration. At about one o'clock a domestic in the
prefect's livery brought in a tray furnished with copious
materials for a succulent repast, but it may be well under-
stood that Jocelyn was in no particular humour to partake
of it. The man, without being precisely stern-looking,
was evidently of a cold and reserved disposition, a character
well suited for such a place as the prefecture and such
functions as those which he had to fulfil. Jocelyn did not
question him; for, in the first place, he was tolerably well
convinced that this menial could know nothing of the
secrets regarding his captivity, and, secondly, even if he did,
he was still more certain not to betray them.

Before quitting the room, the domestic said, in a tone that
was coldly polite, " I am commanded, sir, to wait upon you
with your meals three times a day, and on each occasion
whatever orders you may wish to give shall be obeyed, con-
sistently with the regulations of the place. Books and
writing materials you can have — "

" Yes, bring me books and writing materials," exclaimed
Jocelyn, to whom it was at least some consolation to per-
ceive that he was not to be treated with any extraordinary
degree of severity.

The domestic retired, and shortly afterward reappeared,
bringing with him a large parcel of books and an ample
supply of writing materials; but as he deposited them in
the recess of one of the deep-set windows, he remarked,
" You are at liberty, sir, to write as much as you choose
within these walls, but I must beg you to understand that
not a scrap of paper can pass hence without being previously
examined by his Excellency the prefect.

Having thus spoken, the man again departed, carefully
locking and bolting the door behind him; and when once
more alone, Loftus began to examine the books which had
been brought him. They belonged to almost every branch
of literature, — novels, poetry, travels, voyages, history, poli-
tics, science, and art; but he started back in sudden dismay
from this perfect cyclopedia of amusement and instruction,
for the thought flashed to his mind that here was indeed

THE PREFECTURE OF POLICE 187

enough reading to while away the time of a twelvemonths'
imprisonment. The next moment, however, he felt angry
with himself for having allowed the incident to operate
as an omen or a presage; and he murmured, half-aloud,
" The domestic who brought those books could not possibly
be aware whether my captivity is destined to last days
or years."

Then, with characteristic courage, Loftus conjured up
every possible reflection of a soothing, hopeful, or consolatory
nature.

In the evening the domestic reappeared with the prisoner's
supper, which also consisted of several dishes and a liberal
supply of wine. Candles were furnished without restriction
as to the period of their use, so that Loftus could burn them
throughout the night if he felt disposed. In the morning
the breakfast that was served up to him was as copious as
the other meals; and when he had partaken of the repast,
an old woman was introduced by the domestic to make the
bed and sweep out the room, during which process Jocelyn
was permitted to walk up and down the long dark passage
outside.

We have now afforded an idea of the routine of Jocelyn's
first day at the prefecture, and thence an estimate may be
drawn of the monotonous nature of his imprisonment during
the month which we must suppose to have elapsed since the
date of his arrest. It will, however, be seen that he was
treated at the prefecture of police with as much consideration
as was compatible with the circumstances of personal re-
straint. But was he happy? Far, very far from that! His
natural courage, noble fortitude, and elevated spirit enabled
him to bear up as well as the most heroic of men could do
against the misfortune which had overtaken him, but still
there were moments when he could scarcely restrain an
outburst of bitter anguish as he thought of his much-loved
and far-off Louisa. What could she think of a silence so
unaccountable and an absence so prolonged? Must she not
either believe him false, or else that some terrible calamity
had befallen him? In either case, he pictured to himself all
the anguish which that charming creature was thus doomed
to endure; and it went to his soul to reflect that so young,
so lovely, and so affectionate a being should be plunged
into such deep distress.

188 THE COURT OF LONDON

On several occasions he had written a letter to the prefect,
beseeching that any correspondence which should have
arrived for him at Meurice's Hotel or at the general post-
office of Paris might be given up to him; but the verbal
answer which the reserved domestic invariably brought back
was to the effect " that no communications had been re-
ceived at all, at either place, addressed to Mr. Jocelyn
Loftus."

These announcements the young gentleman knew full
well to be false, for he was convinced that Louisa would
have unweariedly and incessantly written letter after letter,
craving, imploring, and beseeching a response; and it was
therefore with as much bitterness of spirit as indignation
of feeling that Loftus came to the conclusion that the same
arbitrary police power which had violated the sanctity of
his private papers on the day of his arrest had likewise taken
possession of all correspondence that had subsequently
arrived for him from England.

Our young hero's state of mind was not, therefore, very
felicitous; and a month had thus passed in deep uncertain-
ties, varying excitements, and perplexing anxieties.

One night Jocelyn had retired to rest earlier than usual,
for his health had begun to fail him in the close captivity
of that chamber, and, moreover, he had been giving way
with a very painful intensity to the poignancy of his thoughts
during the evening. The clocks in the thousand towers of
the sovereign city of France were proclaiming the hour of
nine when, having extinguished the light, Jocelyn thus
sought his couch, exhausted alike in mind and body. A
deep slumber fell upon him, and he was gradually borne
into the Elysian mazes of a delicious dream.

He fancied that he was sleeping on a splendid sofa in a
magnificently furnished apartment; he thought he saw
himself thus reclining full dressed, as if it were in the day-
time that he had lain down in this manner to rest for a short
while. The saloon to which imagination had thus wafted
him was flooded with a golden light, — a more than earthly
radiance that penetrated throughout, a celestial lustre
that rendered each nook and corner as clear and shadow-
less as the centre of the room itself. And now, in the
midst of that transcendent glow, it appeared to Jocelyn
as if angels were passing through the ambrosial air, beauteous

THE PREFECTURE OF POLICE 189

forms displaying a lithe and slender symmetry in the
scant azure drapery that floated with the grace which no
sculptural skill could ever illustrate in the massive marble.
Some of these empyrean beings were crowned with stars;
others bore lutes which seemed to send forth a delicious
music, realizing the sweet superstition of the harmony of
the spheres; while others, again, carried garlands of flowers
in their hands, or scattered wreaths and posies through the
translucent atmosphere. But as the celestial train swept
past, every angelic countenance was bent with an expression
of sweet encouragement and smiling hopefulness upon the
sleeping form of Jocelyn; and as he slowly awoke from this
delicious dream, while the glory of the vision itself faded
slowly and gradually away from his mental perception, he
could not help thinking that it was an intimation sent from
Heaven to cheer his soul.

While in the fervour of his grateful piety he was silently
breathing a prayer to his Maker, he was suddenly startled
by a singular noise which seemed to come from within the
wainscoting of the alcove or recess that contained the couch
whereon he lay. He listened; the noise ceased. He con-
cluded that he had been mistaken, and he endeavoured to
compose himself to slumber again. But just as his eyelids
were closing beneath the batlike wing of drowsiness, that
strange sound was repeated.

He started up, held his breath, and listened more atten-
tively than at first. The noise was like that of some one
endeavouring to pierce through the masonry by means of
an instrument that worked tediously in a stealthy, scraping
manner, rather than with a boldness which cared not for
discovery. The thought instantly struck Jocelyn that some
prisoner in the next apartment was endeavouring to escape;
and this idea thrilled with a sensation of joy to his heart, for
the same means which could afford the hope of flight to a
fellow captive would avail also for himself.

The noise continued, and Jocelyn was on the point of
knocking gently in order to lead the individual, whoever it
might be, into conversation, supposing that a sufficient depth
of excavation in the wall had been made to render their voices
audible to each other; but the young gentleman, checked
himself and paused to reflect ere he took any step whatsoever
in the matter. Once more reposing his head upon his pillow,

190 THE COURT OF LONDON

but still listening attentively, he reasoned in the following
strain :

" If this be some fellow captive who is endeavouring to
make his escape, he may perchance have been led to believe
that the wall through which he is boring opens either into an
empty room or an unfrequented passage, or even perhaps
into some courtyard or actual outlet. Such may be his im-
pression; and therefore if I disturb him in the midst of his
labours he may become alarmed and desist. It will be better
for me to allow him to proceed so far with his work that he
will ascertain for himself into what place he is penetrating,
and then it will be time enough to make known to him the
presence of a fellow prisoner in this room, supposing that he
is now unaware of its being tenanted."

Having come to this conclusion, Jocelyn Loft us did not
attempt to make himself heard by his neighbour; but he
nevertheless continued an attentive listener to the work
that was going on. The longer he thus listened the more
convinced he became that his first conjecture was well
founded, and that it was indeed some fellow prisoner stealth-
ily pursuing the means which he hoped would lead to escape.
For two hours did the work thus continue, and by following
it minutely with his ears, the young gentleman was enabled
to comprehend its details. Thus was it that he could dis-
tinguish when pieces of mortar were removed or portions of
masonry detached and taken out of the excavation; and at
the expiration of those two hours he heard his neighbour
replacing all the mortar, stones, and bricks in the hollow
thus made between the wainscot, doubtless to conceal the
night's work from the eyes of the morning's visitors.

All was now still; but Jocelyn could not again very
speedily settle himself to slumber, for an incident had thus
arisen not only to break the hitherto monotonous routine
of his imprisonment, but also to excite sudden and fervid
hopes of escape.

Nevertheless, after awhile sleep once more revisited his
eyes, and when he awoke in the morning it was some time
before he could persuade himself that the occurrence of the
past night was not part and parcel — although perhaps
another phase — of that dream which had visited him soon
after he had retired to rest.

Having risen from his couch and dressed himself, Jocelyn

THE PREFECTURE OF POLICE 191

awaited the arrival of the serious-looking domestic; and
when that individual made his appearance at nine o'clock
with the breakfast-tray, the young gentleman inquired, with
an apparent air of indifference, whether there were many
other prisoners in the prefecture.

" I do not know, sir," was the laconic answer; and Jocelyn
felt annoyed within himself for having condescended to even
so slight an attempt to gratify his curiosity through the
medium of his reserved and flinty-hearted jailor.

After breakfast, the livery servant returned, accompanied,
as usual at this hour, by the old charwoman; and while
she was occupied in putting the room to rights, Loftus
walked, as was his wont, in the adjacent corridor. This pas-
sage has already been described as long, dark, and gloomy;
it had a door at the end communicating with the staircase,
and from the side opened at least a dozen doors into no
doubt as many prison-chambers. While walking in this
passage on the present occasion, Loftus paused at the door
of the room next to his own, and listened to hear if he could
catch any sound, but all was still.

In a few minutes the old woman appeared upon the thresh-
old of his apartment, with the intimation that she had
finished her avocations therein. This was a signal for him
to return to its solitude; and as he did so, the old crone
hastily and furtively slipped a note into his hand. He
clutched it tight — oh, as tightly as the rope is clutched that
is thrown out to the shipwrecked mariner struggling in the
waves amidst the boiling surges of an infuriate ocean. The
old woman hurried onward, and the serious-looking domestic,
who had been lounging at the end of the dark passage, now
came to close the door upon our hero once more.

The instant that Jocelyn was again alone he hastened to
examine the note that had so strangely been given to him.
It was not addressed to any one; it was not sealed, but merely
folded up into a small compass, and its contents, which were
written in a beautiful female hand, and in the English
language, were as follows:

" FELLOW PRISONER: — If you value your liberty and are
desirous to escape from this dreadful place, lend your
assistance to one who is already working to the same end.
Be not alarmed, therefore, at any unusual noise which you

192 THE COURT OF LONDON

may hear or at any strange occurrence that may take place
during the coming night, but be in readiness to fulfill any
instructions that you may receive. I am told that you are
an Englishman, and you will see by this that it is a fellow
countrywoman who thus addresses you."

The astonishment of Loftus at thus discovering that his
bold and venturous neighbour was a female may be more
readily conceived than described. Yes, and by her writing
she was evidently a lady of good education. That the old
charwoman was an accomplice in her project of escape was
evident enough; but how this lady could hope to effect
this escape by simply passing from one room into another,
Jocelyn was at a loss to imagine. However, that some
explanation would take place during the next night ap-
peared tolerably evident, the lady having no doubt been
enabled to calculate that it only required a little more labour
to pierce entirely through the massive partition wall.

Slow and tardy as the time ever passes to persons in
captivity, yet this was the slowest and most tardily lingering
day that Jocelyn had yet known in the prefecture of police.
He thought the evening would never come; but when at
last the sombre shades of twilight obscured his chamber,
he even then calculated with considerable impatience that
it yet wanted several hours of midnight. However, as nearly
everything must have an end sooner or later, so did this
wearisome day terminate at last. Nine o'clock struck, the
serious-looking domestic, having brought in the supper-tray,
retired with his wonted coldly courteous " Good night,"
and now Loftus felt that he was free from any further in-
terruption on the part of his crabbed janitor.

Candles had been lighted some time; he endeavoured to
read, but could not settle his mind to any one subject of all
the departments of literature contained in the books at his
disposal. He therefore rose from his chair and paced the
room in an agitated manner; then he sat down again and
perused for the hundredth time that day the mysterious
note which he had received in the morning.

Yes, it was indeed a beautiful handwriting, fluent, clear,
and delicate as that of an educated Englishwoman. But,
ah I if it had only been the writing of his Louisa, what trans-
ports of happiness would he now have enjoyed! However,

THE PREFECTURE OF POLICE 193

if the present adventure upon which his neighbour had
embarked, and in which he himself was about to participate,
if this adventure, we say, should end in the accomplishment
of an escape, then, within a very few days, might he fold in
his arms that beloved Louisa whose image was ever upper-
most in his mind, and on whose behalf he experienced so
much anxiety.

The clocks had struck eleven some time when Jocelyn sud-
denly became aware that the sounds of the previous night
were recommencing in the wall of the alcove. He threw him-
self upon the bed, applied his ear to the wainscot, and listened
attentively. Yes, his adventurous neighbour was evidently
taking out all the loosened mortar and masonry from the
aperture; and in a few minutes he was satisfied that she was
continuing the process of perforation by whatsoever instru-
ment it was that she used. Jocelyn continued to listen with
breathless attention, until presently he heard the instrument
itself come in contact with the wainscot to which his ear
was applied. Then suddenly all was still.

" Is that woodwork? " suddenly inquired a soft female
voice from the other side.

Jocelyn answered in the affirmative.

" Then if you are indeed anxious to escape," resumed
that same musical voice, " or if you will, at all events, assist
me to escape, you must contrive to remove a portion of the
wainscot."

Jocelyn at once gave the lady such assurances that must
have satisfied her both as to his own desire for self-emanci-
pation and his readiness to succour all her heroic attempts.
He then drew forth the bedstead from the alcove, and by
means of the knife which had been left with his supper-tray,
he speedily loosened a panel of the woodwork and lifted
it from its setting. He now perceived that an excavation
had been made of nearly two feet square through a wall
upwards of a foot thick.

" Take all these implements — haste! — quick! " said the
lady in the adjoining room; and as she thus spoke
impatiently, but with the rich melody of youthfulness
in her voice, she thrust several articles through the
opening.

These consisted of a ladder made of twisted silk and pieces
of fire-wood, two or three files, a bottle containing a yellow

194 THE COURT OF LONDON

fluid, three or four skeleton keys, and a very diminutive
crowbar, the whitened end of which showed that it had been
the instrument principally used for making the opening in
the wall. The articles were speedily taken charge of by
Jocelyn; and the appearance thereof instantaneously con-
firmed his former suspicion that an escape was to be at-
tempted that night. But he had little leisure for reflection,
inasmuch as everything was now haste, bustle, and im-
patience with the heroic lady. Indeed, no sooner had he
removed the above-mentioned articles from the opening
through which she had thrust them, than in the hurried but
harmonious accents of her voice she said, " Now help me to
pass into your chamber."

At the same time a pair of well-rounded, plump and snow-
white arms were thrust through the aperture; immediately
afterward came a head covered with a thick black veil,
followed by a bust whose proportions were fraught with all
the first freshness of youth. In fine, our hero, taking hold
of the lady's arms, assisted her as well and as delicately as
he was able to pass her entire form through the opening.

When this was done and the heroine of the adventure,
being raised upon her feet, stood before Jocelyn, the rapid
glance which he threw upon her naturally expressed a certain
amount of curiosity. He observed that she was of the middle
height, with a form of youthful appearance, perfectly sym-
metrical in shape and characterized by much ladylike
elegance. But her head, as already stated, was closely
enveloped in a thick black veil; and although she could no
doubt see perfectly well from behind the invidious screen,
yet it was not equally easy for the eyes of an observer to
penetrate through to her own countenance. That she studied
Jocelyn earnestly and attentively for several moments, he
could judge from the steadiness with which her veiled
countenance was fixed toward him; but on his side he could
positively distinguish neither trait nor lineament of her
countenance at all. We should add that the dark veil, two
or three times folded, was not merely thrown loosely over
her head, but was tied in such a way around her neck that
it served as a perfect mask and was not liable to be dis-
placed by any motion or gesture on her part.

" You are doubtless astonished to see my countenance
thus veiled? " said the lady, in the softest and most melting

THE PREFECTURE OF POLICE 195

tones of her musical voice; " but it is in consequence of a
solemn vow which I have made."

" A vow? " exclaimed Loftus, in astonishment, and almost
with an accent of incredulity and suspicion.

" Yes, it is a vow," answered the lady, with a certain
dignity in her tone and a drawing up of her form as if she
resented the incredulous manner of our hero, " a vow rashly
and precipitately made, it is true, a vow pledged in the
moment of despair, but to which I am not the less bound
to pay implicit devotion."

" But wherefore so singular a vow? " inquired Jocelyn,
now fancying that if the lady were not some adventuress, she
was probably of unsettled intellects.

" You think that I am mad? " she said, thus evidently
penetrating his thoughts once more, but now speaking in a
milder and more mournful tone. " It would be perhaps a
blessing for one so profoundly acquainted with sorrow as I
am to sink into the oblivion of a benighted intellect, or be-
come a prey to the fanciful vagaries of dreams. But, alas!
alas! life has already been and still is too stern a reality
for me. Under such circumstances, and considering the
absolute necessity which exists for me to give you some
explanation, so as to convince you that you are not em-
barking in this night's enterprise with either an adventuress
imprisoned for wrong-doing, or a mad woman confined on
account of her malady, for these reasons, I say, you will not
deem me vain or frivolous in declaring that it is the beauty
of this now veiled countenance which has been the cause
of all my misfortunes. Yes, that beauty which, I solemnly
declare, I myself value not, has rendered me the object of
persecution and even of vengeance on the part of a host of
great, noble, and powerful admirers to whose honeyed words
I would not listen. Being my own mistress, or I should rather
say, being a friendless Englishwoman, thus tormented by a
hornet's nest of French princes, dukes, marquises, counts,
viscounts, and barons, — ay, and by even the very prefect
himself," she added, with a bitter significancy of tone arid
with a gesture of deep meaning, " I have passed through
an ordeal — "

" Ah! then it is because you would not listen to the over-
tures of all those great personages, but the prefect espe-
cially," exclaimed Loftus, now believing the tale and becom-

196 THE COURT OF LONDON

ing indignant at the outrage thus offered to a lady and a
countrywoman, " it is for all this, I presume, that you have
been imprisoned here? "

" Such is indeed the truth," answered the lady. " And
now can you wonder if, when snatched from my home and
brought a prisoner hither three weeks ago, I should in my
rage, my fury, and my despair, have made a vow to the effect
that never, never again will I reveal my countenance to a
being in the form of man! No, never, never," she exclaimed,
with a sort of frenzied petulance, " until I encounter some
one who shall have learned to love me, not for the beauty
of my countenance, or the magnitude of my fortune, but for
those gentle, endearing, and more sterling qualities which
as a woman I possess. Now, therefore," she added, with the
hurried tone of one who was well pleased at having finished
a most painful explanation," now, therefore, let us to work,
and endeavour to ensure our escape."

" That is, after all, the essential point," said Jocelyn, not
thinking it worth while to trouble himself further concern-
ing the eccentric lady's history, as every instant that was
lost in the gratification of mere curiosity could only tend
to diminish the eventual chances of success. " But tell
me — "

" One word! " she interrupted, with a sort of petulant
impatience that appeared to be characteristic of her. " We
must, at all events, know how to address each other during
the short time we remain together. What is your name? "

" Jocelyn Loftus," was the answer.

" And mine is Laura Linden," she immediately rejoined,
in a tone so full of ingenuousness and unaffected simplicity
that our young hero was angry with himself for having in
any way suspected her even for a moment. " Perhaps you
have heard of me before? "

" No, never," answered Jocelyn. " But permit me to
observe that since your enemies appear to be so very ran-
corous, and for such unworthy or rather scandalous causes,
it will become my duty to propose to you, on our escape
hence, such escort and protection as I may be enabled to
afford."

" Which I shall accept cheerfully and thankfully back
to England," replied Laura. " And now let us apply our-
selves earnestly and vigorously to work."

THE PREFECTURE OF POLICE 197

" But have you already any settled plan which you are
pursuing, Miss Linden? " inquired Loftus.

" I have ascertained the whole geography of the immense
range of buildings which constitute the prefecture," replied
the lady. " The old charwoman, yielding to heavy bribes
and to the still more munificent promises which I made her,
has been won over to my interests. It was she who supplied
me with such implements as I required, and she also de-
scribed to me the situation of every part of the entire struc-
ture. There is not a room, nor a corridor, nor a courtyard,
the topography of which remains unknown to me. This
knowledge made me aware that if I succeeded in escaping
from the windows of my own room, I should have to descend
into a courtyard where detection and arrest would be
inevitable. I therefore resolved — on learning that my
neighbour (I mean yourself) was an Englishman — to
penetrate into this room and achieve my flight by means of
one of those casements. There is no sentinel in the court
below. I know all its outlets, and with a courageous spirit
to succour us, we may be free long ere the first ray of dawn
shall glimmer in the eastern horizon."

" I presume," said Loftus, glancing upon the various
articles laid upon the table, " that we are to file away the
bars of the window, descend by the silken ladder into the
courtyard, and make use of those skeleton keys for any door
that may bar our progress? "

" Such is the course which I propose," answered Laura.

" But this bottle of yellow fluid? " said Jocelyn, inquiringly.

" It is nitric acid to moisten the iron bars, and render the
filing of them more easy. But quick! quick! " she again
cried, with petulant impatience; " let us to work! "

" It is now half an hour past midnight," observed Loftus,
consulting his watch; " let us see if we have sufficient time
before us to execute all that is to be done."

Thus speaking, he gently and noiselessly opened one of the
casements; and holding a candle close to the bars, he
examined them attentively.

" Yes, Miss Linden," he observed, " I will undertake
to remove a couple of those bars in two hours, — an hour for
each. Then, judging from your ideas of the topography of
the place, shall we have sufficient time to accomplish all that
may afterward remain to be done ere daylight? "

198 THE COURT OF LONDON

" Yes, undoubtedly," answered Laura, with all the nerv-
ous trepidation of a captive impatient to be free.

But scarcely was this rapid colloquy interchanged when
a gruff voice, coming from the courtyard below, exclaimed
in French, " Shut that window up there, and put out the
lights directly," and at the same time the rattling of a bunch
of keys was heard.

" Good heavens! " murmured the lady, clasping her hands
as if in despair; "it is the watchman going his rounds who
has thus observed us! "

" And now," said Loft us, in a tone of bitter disappoint-
ment, " we must look upon all our hopes as annihilated."

" Not so, not so," ejaculated Laura, as if suddenly inspired
with new courage; " but we must assuredly abandon our
project for this night, and in the morning I will ascertain
from the old charwoman the precise hours at which that
watchman goes his rounds. We can then conduct our
operations accordingly to-morrow night."

" Be it so," said Loftus, well pleased to observe that Miss
Linden, who evidently knew far more concerning the ar-
rangements of the prefecture than he did, was not disposed
to resign herself to despair.

" Now then, Number 15 there! are you going to put out
those lights? " exclaimed the gruff voice of the watchman
from the courtyard below; and again did he clank his keys,
as if backing his words by the sounds of the emblems of
authority.

" My good friend," said Jocelyn, approaching the casement,
which still remained open, " this is the first time that ever
I have been ordered to extinguish my candles — "

"But if you have been allowed to keep them burning,
it was only through an indulgence, and not as a right,"
interrupted the watchman, doggedly.

"Is it because you observed the window open that you
now seek to curtail that indulgence? " asked Loftus, in as
mild and as conciliatory a tone as he could possibly adopt.

" Well, I must say that it does look rather suspicious,"
returned the watchman, curtly; " and therefore, if you want
to avoid being reported to the prefect in the morning, you
will at once do as I bid you, by shutting that window and
putting out those lights."

" For Heaven's sake, keep not the man in parley, Mr.

THE PREFECTURE OF POLICE 199

Loft us! " murmured Miss Linden, from the corner of the
room into which she had shrunk. " He will suspect some-
thing, and all our hopes will be ruined."

11 Good night, my friend," said Loftus, speaking from the
casement to the watchman below. " Your wishes shall
immediately be complied with," and having closed the win-
dow, he blew out the candles.

The room was now suddenly plunged into total darkness;
and the reader will not require to be informed that Jocelyn
was placed in a very singular and awkward predicament.
There he was alone — in the utter obscurity and in the
depth of the night — in a bedchamber with a young and no
doubt beautiful woman, a situation in which most men
would have envied him. But his own high principles of
honour and integrity, his fidelity toward Louisa Stanley,
amounting positively to a devotion and a worship, and like-
wise the generous and manly considerations which he
experienced on behalf of a young, eccentric, but heroic
being whom circumstances had thus so suddenly thrown
in his way, all these combined at once to raise him, as it were,
above the embarrassment of his position and render him
superior to its awkwardness, perplexity, and bewilderment.

" Miss Linden," he said, almost immediately, " I am far
more distressed on your account than on my own that this
enterprise should have experienced so sudden a check, after
all the anxiety, toil, and fatigue which you have undergone."

" Oh, that is nothing — nothing, Mr. Loftus," she said,
" provided success will smile upon the undertaking to-
morrow night."

As she thus spoke our hero could judge by the sound of her
voice, the slight rustling of her silk dress, and the gentle
tread of her footsteps, that she was approaching toward him;
and in a few moments he felt a hand laid gently upon his
arm.

" You are endowed with an extraordinary courage," he
observed, by way of response to her last observation.

" Yes, it is indomitable, so long as it is sustained by the
excitement of the enterprise," answered Laura; " but a
reaction soon comes on, and then, alas! I melt into all a
woman's weakness. Guide me to a seat, Mr. Loftus, for a
sudden faintness is coming over me," she murmured, in a
tone of tremulous entreaty; and at the same time she clung

200 THE COURT OF LONDON

to our hero with her warm naked arms, as if to prevent
herself from falling.

Jocelyn hastened to conduct her to the chair which he
knew to be nearest; and she sank upon it like one overcome
by physical and mental exhaustion.

" This veil suffocates me," she said, with that petulance
which appeared the characteristic of her disposition. " Thank
Heaven a pitchy darkness prevails at this moment, so that
I can take it off and breathe fresh air! " Then, by the
sound which met his ears, Jocelyn knew that she was re-
moving the veil from her head. " Now give me a glass of
water, Mr. Loftus," she said, after a few moments' pause.

He felt his way to a shelf on which a decanter and glasses
stood ; and filling a tumbler with water, he returned to where
the lady was seated.

" Place the glass to my lips," she said, in a faint and dying
tone, so that Loftus became very seriously alarmed lest she
should swoon outright.

He hastened to comply with her request, and by raising
the tumbler to her lips, enabled her thus to imbibe the cool-
ing beverage.

" Enough, enough," she murmured, in a voice that was
now scarcely audible; and her head drooped completely
against Jocelyn's breast, as he stood close by the chair in
which she was seated.

" Heavens! what can I do for you, Miss Linden? " he
inquired, now truly perplexed and most cruelly bewildered.

" Nothing, nothing; I shall be better presently," she said,
still very faintly, but somewhat more audibly than before.
" It is a passing indisposition; let me repose for a few
minutes upon your couch, and then I shall be so far restored
as to be enabled to creep back into my own room."

As she thus spoke, she clung to Joselyn in such a manner
that he was compelled to raise her in his arms, and sustain
her — indeed, we might almost say carry her — toward
the couch. But these attentions he bestowed upon her with
as much tender delicacy as a brother would exhibit toward
a well-beloved sister; and it might have also been with that
sisterly reliance on her part which present circumstances
were so well calculated to inspire, — it might have been,
we say, in that same artless, ingenuous, and unsophisticated
spirit that Laura Linden herself clung so tenaciously to our

THE PREFECTURE OF POLICE 201

hero. At all events, full certain was it that her round plump
arms encircled his neck, her full and well-developed bust
was in the closest contact with his chest, her head lay droop-
ingly upon his shoulder, and her whole form was yielded up,
as it were, in the utter abandonment of exhaustion and
faintness, as a sleeping child is borne in the arms of a father.
He felt her warm cheek against his own, her fragrant breath
fanning his face, her silky tresses commingling with his own
hair; and as she heaved quick, short gaspings, like half-
suffocated sobs, the firm bosom palpitated with rapid un-
dulations against his breast. Thus, had there been aught of
grossness or impurity in his imagination, he must have
yielded to such exquisite temptations; for assuredly that
position was seductive enough to melt the stoicism of an
anchorite or vanquish the virtue of an angel.

Gently depositing Laura Linden upon the couch, Jocelyn
inwardly hoped, by everything solemn and sacred, that
she would not fall off into a complete swoon, but would
speedily recover. He remained standing by the couch, in
that same brotherly spirit of readiness to minister any
attention that might be required; nor could he very well
have retreated, even had he been so disposed, for the lady,
apparently with the nervous tenacity of one whose ideas
are thrown into confusion, had caught hold of his hands and
retained them clasped in her own.

" Do you feel better, Miss Linden? " asked Jocelyn.

" Yes, much better, I thank you," she responded, pressing
his hands as if in gratitude to her bosom. " You have been
kind, very kind to me," she murmured, in a tremulous tone;
" no brother could have been kinder or more affectionate,"
and she imprinted a kiss upon the hand which was nearest
to her lips at the moment.

Jocelyn started perceptibly at what seemed to him an
uncalled-for manifestation of a too tender gratitude; and
the next moment Laura suddenly abandoned the hold which
she had upon his hands, exclaiming, " I feel so much better
now that I will return into my own room. But you must
assist me to pass through the aperture," she added, with
that musical vibration of tone, which showed that she was
smiling at the idea.

Rising slowly from the couch and in a manner which
seemed to indicate that she was still weak and feeble, Miss

202 THE COURT OF LONDON

Linden felt her way toward the opening in the wall, Jocelyn
following close behind her. After three or four vain and
ineffectual endeavours to pass her form through the aper-
ture, she said, in a voice apparently trembling with alarm,
" Good heavens! I cannot possibly accomplish my purpose!
You remember that you had to drag me through into your
own room, and therefore I cannot pass back into my cham-
ber unless similarly assisted by some one there. What is
to be done? " she demanded, impatiently.

" Compose yourself, Miss Linden, and try once more,"
responded Loftus. "It is absolutely necessary that you
should get back without delay, to remove all traces of our
proceedings; otherwise the prefect's livery servant, when
he visits our rooms in the morning — "

" Oh, yes, the chances of detection have now become
fearful," interrupted Laura, clinging as if in despair to our
young hero. " But it is no use for me to try and pass
through that aperture; I can not; it hurts me, it lacerates
my flesh."

" Then what in Heaven's name shall we do? " asked
Jocelyn, more cruelly bewildered and perplexed than ever.

" There is no alternative, I fear," replied the lady, in a
tone that suddenly became solemnly serious, for the pre-
dicament in which she was placed indeed seemed but too
well calculated to shock the feelings of a modest damsel.
" There is only one alternative, I say," she repeated, " and
that is to await as patiently as we can until the first dawn
of morning shall afford us a glimmer of light by which we
may enlarge the aperture. This will not take long to do,
and will still leave ample time ere the coming of our gaoler
to replace all the masonry and woodwork, and thus remove
every trace of our proceedings. I fear, Mr. Loftus, that there
is no other alternative than the course I have pointed out."

" It indeed appears so," observed Jocelyn, in a tone
which expressed all the cruel embarrassment which he so
keenly felt.

Our young hero and the beauteous Laura Linden therefore
found themselves doomed to remain together for several
hours in the darkness of the chamber and surrounded by all
the temptations of this strange predicament.

CHAPTER XVIII

LORD AND LADY SACKVILLE

LEAVING Jocelyn Loftus and his eccentric companion
for awhile in the prison-chamber at the prefecture of police,
we must now return to the English capital.

In a magnificently furnished saloon at Carlton House, and
between ten and eleven at night, Lord and Lady Sackville
were seated together upon a sofa. Nothing could exceed
the splendour by which they were surrounded; and if every-
thing that was luxurious, gorgeous, and superb could render
existence supremely blest, then must this young and hand-
some pair have been preeminently happy.

The gilded furniture, the rich draperies, the thick carpets,
the ornaments of rarest porcelain, the tables covered with
all those fashionable trinkets, trifles, and knickknacks
which, though mere useless nothings, are nevertheless so
preeminently costly, — all these features, phases, and
evidences of consummate splendour and refined luxury
characterized the new abode of Lord and Lady Sackville.
Indeed, one of the handsomest suites of apartments in the
prince regent's palace had thus been assigned to them; and
yet, although they were the envy and admiration of the
entire fashionable world, we now find them seated mourn-
fully together in that splendid saloon.

Nevertheless, Venetia looked transcendently lovely in
the gorgeous dress that she wore; and her husband, as he
gazed upon her, might well have been proud of possessing
such a wife. On the other hand, never had Horace himself
seemed more truly handsome, and any wife might have
been proud of such a husband. Besides, was not their name
gilded with a title? Did not the glory of a patrician coronet
encircle their brow? Had not a pension of three thousand a

203

204 THE COURT OF LONDON

year been conferred upon the newly created peer, in order,
as the cant phrase goes, " that he might be enabled to sup-
port his rank." Had he not an additional income arising
from the office of lord steward in the regent's household, and
did not the tables in that very saloon groan beneath the evi-
dences of the lavish profusion with which the prince showered
down the choicest gifts upon Venetia? Wherefore, then,
was this noble couple a prey to melancholy? Wherefore had
a cloud settled upon their countenances? Had they not all
that honour, wealth, splendour, and distinction could con-
tribute or combine to ensure their felicity? Were they not
the idols of the fashionable world? Was not Horace courted,
flattered, and smiled upon by the proudest dukes and
haughtiest earls? And did not the stateliest duchesses and
the most exclusive countesses regard Venetia as a being
second only to a queen? In a word, was not Lady Sackville
caressed and fawned upon by the whole British aristocracy
because she was the mistress of the prince regent? And
was not Lord Sackville similarly courted because he was
the husband of that royal harlot?

Yes, it was precisely because Venetia was thus the mistress
of the prince, and it was because her husband was the pander
to her shame, — for these reasons was it they were mournful
now. This was almost the first time they had found them-
selves alone together since the whirl of pleasure, gaiety, and
fashionable dissipation had commenced immediately after
Venetia surrendered herself to the arms of the prince.
But on this particular occasion his Royal Highness was
engaged with the Ministers; and it happened that Lord and
Lady Sackville were invited to no fashionable reunion for
the evening, nor had they company in their own apartments.
The consequence was that when the royal dinner-party
had broken up, Horace and Venetia found themselves thus
alone, — thus, as it were, compelled to look each other in the
face despite the feelings of shame that were struggling in their
hearts. For be it understood that they were not yet so
inured to depravity nor so thoroughly steeped in profligacy
as to have become altogether callous to the whispering of
the soul's innermost voices and the influence of the heart's
better feelings.

" Venetia, my dearest wife," said Horace, taking her hand
and pressing it to his lips, " tell me, are you happy? "

LORD AND LADY SACKVILLE 205

" Nay, answer me the same question first," said Venetia,
looking in his face for a moment, then colouring deeply,
and casting down her beauteous eyes, as if the lids were
oppressed with a weight of shame.

" Did we not agree," asked Lord Sackville, " on that
memorable night, or rather, morning, when you returned to
Acacia Cottage from Carlton House — "

" Oh, allude not thus particularly to that night," said
Venetia, with a strong shudder which swept visibly over
her entire form, as a rapid breeze appears to bear a sudden
ruffle along the surface of the lake.

" Pardon me, my love, for being too explicit," exclaimed
Horace, noticing that cold tremor; " but I was merely
desirous of reminding you of a special occasion on which we
agreed that we would make ourselves happy in spite of all
circumstances."

" Yes, I remember full well," returned Venetia; " and
Heaven knows that I have endeavoured to make myself,
and also to make you, as happy as possible. But — "

" But what? " ejaculated Horace, starting from the sofa,
and speaking with the nervous abruptness of a man who is
irresistibly impelled to court explanations which he never-
theless dreads to hear.

" Sit down, Horace, sit down," said Venetia, " and I will
tell you what I mean."

But instead of resuming his place by her side on the sofa,
he seated himself upon a footstool, pillowed his head upon
her lap, and said, " Now speak frankly, Venetia, and tell
me all that you have to impart."

" Ah! this position which you have taken, this attitude
which you have assumed, here, sitting at my feet," exclaimed
Venetia, powerfully moved and profoundly touched, " re-
minds me of the days of our honeymoon, that honeymoon
which was so short, yes, short but beatific like a glimpse of
Paradise. Then we were all love, all confidence, all childish
playfulness; we could look each other in the face, only to
smile, and not to blush. But now — now, how altered is it
all, what a change has come over us ! By rising to an eleva-
tion which makes us envied, flattered, fawned upon, we
have been made to loathe, detest, and abhor ourselves. Oh,
may God grant that we shall not end by loathing, detesting,
and abhorring each other! "

206 THE COURT OF LONDON

" Heavens, Venetia! to hear thee talk thus," exclaimed
Lord Sackville, " drives me mad. Why, even within a few
hours after what may be termed your fall, yes, even the
very next morning, we could look each other in the face
without blushing. But now it seems as if the pangs of
remorse and the poignancy of shame have sprung into keen
vitality again, as if memory, instead of being blunted with the
lapse of days and weeks, is actually becoming sharpened,
as if pleasure could not drown that memory in its roseate
floods, as if luxury could not lull our recollections into repose,
and as if honours, riches, adulation, and rank could not
appease us for what we have done."

" Oh, look up at me, Horace, look up," exclaimed Venetia,
in the melting harmony of that delicious voice which pene-
trated like a strain of celestial music into the soul; " look
up to me a moment, my beloved husband. Let us forget
what we are, let us forget what has passed, let us forget also
what is to come, and think only of this present moment.
For we are here alone together; and oh, let us concentrate
our thoughts into a dream, if it may not be a reality of bliss !
Let us indulge in an embrace as warm, as tender, and as
affectionate as those in which we were wont to steep our
senses ere the date of what you just now so truthfully
denominated my fall! "

" Yes, oh, yes, let us embrace thus," cried Horace, sud-
denly inspired with all the enthusiasm of adoration and
devotion for his young and beauteous wife; then, as he
knelt at her feet, he gazed up passionately into her glowing
countenance, while she looked down with equal tenderness
upon him; and then their lips met in a kiss more delicious
than any in which those lips had joined since the memorable
date of Venetians fall.

But now as Horace, resuming his place upon the footstool,
gazed up at his wife, now that he surveyed her with a fond-
ness as fervid and as impassioned as ever he was wont to
display previous to that night of her degradation and her
shame, he could not help feeling rejoiced at possessing a
woman of such transcending beauty, even though he was
compelled to abandon her at times to the arms of another.
But as his eyes slowly travelled over her entire person,
commencing with that superb auburn hair which lay upon
her brow like dark gold on alabaster, then lingering on that

LORD AND LADY SACKVILLE 207

countenance every feature of which was so faultless in
its chiselling and so classic in its style of beauty, those eyes
of such tender melting blue that not even the hyacinth on
India's fields could compare therewith, those lips of such
delicious redness and dewy moisture, ever remaining the
least thing apart so as not only to give a softly sensuous
expression to the countenance, but also to afford a glimpse
of teeth whiter than the pearls of the East; then, continuing
this survey, to trace the swanlike curvature of that snowy
neck, the voluptuous fulness of those sloping and softly
rounded shoulders, the grandeur of that bust which swelled
into a luxuriance more ample than sculptural richness ever
set forth, rising like hemispheres of polished alabaster in
their well-divided contours, yet with that hue of life wherein
the marble can never rival the living form, and appearing
to the look full of glowing ardour, warmth, and passion;
then, still proceeding with the survey, to mark the wasplike
symmetry of the waist, and the robust proportions of the
naked arms, so admirably rounded, so polished, and so
white; then, with descending look, to gather from the folds
of the drapery an outline or shadowing forth of the splendid
symmetry of all the lower limbs, and to finish the survey
with a view of the well-rounded but slender ankle, and of
the long shapely foot resting on the very ottoman where
he sat, — oh, thus to wander over the beauties of that
woman and linger on all her charms in detail from head to
foot, was it not indeed sufficient to crown the happiness of
any man, to know that this transcendent being was his
own?

" Now I feel happy once more, — as happy as I was
wont to be," said Horace, taking his wife's hands in both
his own and playing with the long tapering fingers so beauti-
fully crowned with the arching nails of pellucid rosiness.
" Thou art indeed wondrously beautiful, my Venetia; and
I am rejoiced that, amidst the whirl of pleasure and dissi-
pation, we have at length found an hour's leisure to be
alone with each other thus."

" Yes, I love thee, my Horace — O God! I love thee,"
exclaimed Venetia, suddenly throwing her arms around his
neck as if with the impulse of frenzied violence; then as a
strong shudder again swept through her form, she cried,
almost with accents of despair, " Ah! would to God that

208 THE COURT OF LONDON

I never more should be clasped in any arms but thine
own! "

" Now tell me what you mean, Venetia," said Horace.
" Come, let there be confidence between us. I see that
something is dwelling in your mind, and it will ease thee
to disburden thyself to the ears of thy husband."

" Listen, then, my beloved Horace, and I will tell thee,"
said Venetia, in a low and stifling tone, as if her very thoughts
were choking her ere she gave utterance to them. " But
there, pillow thy head upon my bosom, with thy face
downward, so that I may not meet thy looks while I proceed
to unveil the secret cause that makes me shudder. It is,"
she continued, in a low, deep, almost hollow tone, as if her
voice had suddenly lost its wonted harmony, " it is that I
loathe, hate, and abhor that prince to whom I have been
sold, — or, rather, to whom I have sold myself; it is that
I detest the hypocrisy which compels me to smile upon him,
to appear to receive his caresses joyfully, and to be com-
pelled to lavish upon him the tenderest caresses in return.
But worse, worse than all that," added Venetia, bending
down her head so that her lips touched her husband's ear
as his own head reposed upon her bosom; then, in words
that seemed to hiss as if coming from the mouth of a snake,
she whispered, " it is, Horace, that I would sooner submit
to the hideous pawings of an imp than to the loathsome
embraces of that filthy sensualist."

Horace started up, with a violent sob suddenly bursting
from his breast; and beginning to pace the room in a manner
fearfully excited, he exclaimed, " O horror! that my own wife
should be doomed to make such a revelation as this to my
ears! Oh, that one whom I have loved so fondly, madly,
devotedly, and whom I still love so well, should be con-
signed to so hellish a fate, so damnable a destiny! But it is
all my fault — my fault," he repeated, striking his breast
forcibly. " It was I who could have saved her while she was
as yet far off from the precipice; it was I who could have
rescued her at the moment she was trembling above it.
But, no, base villain that I was! I suffered her to fall."

" Reproach not yourself, my dearest husband," mur-
mured the well-known voice which had now regained all
its wonted sweetness and characteristic melody, and at
the same instant a beauteous white hand was laid upon his

LORD AND LADY SACKVILLE 209

shoulder. "It is not your fault. I was foredoomed and
predestined even before you and I first met. You know
it — you know it, Horace,7' repeated Lady Sackville;
" and long before you agreed to marry me you were aware
how inextricably I was entangled, by what solemn vows I
was engaged, by what pledges I was bound, and under what
influences I was controlled. You knew that all the appear-
ances of ease, comfort, and wealth which surrounded me
at Acacia Cottage could have been swept away in a moment
had I dared deviate from the path which had been chalked
out for me to pursue. You were likewise aware that Mrs.
Arbuthnot herself was a spy upon my actions, reporting
every look, word, and deed of mine to the supreme authority
in Stratton Street. Such was my condition before my
marriage with you; and since — "

" Ah! since! " ejaculated Horace, with passionate vehe-
mence; " it is that that goads me to desperation. For when
once you were my wife, I could have rescued you from
those trammels which had previously enthralled you; I
might have turned around upon those who had thus en-
meshed you in their toils; I could have said, ' This lady is
my wife, and shall not be the slave of your intrigues.' All
this could I have done, and you would have been saved,
and we might still be enabled to look each other in the face
without blushing at the thought of that crowning degrada-
tion to which you, my unfortunate wife, have been doomed
to submit."

" Not so, not so, Horace," said Venetia, now evidently
taking upon herself the task of consoling, reassuring, and
tranquillizing her husband; " for had we dared, when our
hands were joined in matrimony, to rise up boldly against
the authority which I had previously sworn to obey, — that
very authority, too, which assented to our union only on
express and positive conditions, — all the past would have
been pitilessly and remorselessly made public in order to
stamp me with the reputation of an adventuress."

"They could not have done it — they dared not! " cried
Horace, stamping his foot with indignation. " There was
no ground for it; you were no adventuress. If you were,
'twas by others you were made so."

" Ah! " said Venetia, with a peculiar look, " you forget
into whose hands I fell, and who first introduced me — "

210 THE COURT OF LONDON

" Enough, enough of all this/' ejaculated Horace, sud-
denly. " I see that you are right; we could not have acted
otherwise than we have done. And, after all," he added,
abruptly, " we are fools to make ourselves miserable. I
am Lord Sackville, you are Lady Sackville; I am a peer of
the realm, you are a peeress; we possess titles and pensions
which cannot be taken away from us. Our fortunes are
therefore made for life; and it is now our bounden duty to
endeavour to enjoy that life as well as we are able."

" Yes, we must make up our minds to adopt this course,"
said Venetia. " And indeed," she cried, with a sudden
access of that callous, selfish, heartless feeling which makes
the thorough woman of the world, " we possess all the realities
and substantiate, the essentials and the materials, to make
existence thoroughly happy. It will therefore be our own
faults if we allow sentiment and feeling to interfere with
that happiness."

" Yes/' observed Horace, readily arming himself with
the buckler of that cold selfishness which Venetia had just
assumed; " it will only be a false feeling and a maudlin
sentimentalism that can be allowed to interfere with the
realities of our happiness. Let us then agree, solemnly
agree," continued Horace, " never more to talk softness
and tenderness to each other, but to look, speak, and act as
the thorough man and woman of the world."

" Yes, cheerfully do I subscribe to that agreement/'
responded Venetia.

" Then henceforth our very love shall cease to be a senti-
ment," continued Horace, " and shall merely be a sensualism.
We will have no jealousies, piques, vexations — "

" No boyish and girlish dalliance and romance," added
Venetia; " no poetry of the feelings — "

" Nought save passions, cravings, and impulses that
become men and women of the world," exclaimed Horace.
" And now, my beautiful wife, — as thou art indeed more
ravishingly beautiful than ever this evening, especially with
that rich glow upon thy cheeks, — let us retire to our own
chamber that in each other's arms we may taste the joys of
paradise."

With the wanton glow deepening upon her countenance,
and with a soft and sensuous lustre stealing into her swim-
ming eyes, Venetia was extending her hand toward her

LORD AND LADY SACKVILLE 211

husband, when the door suddenly opened, and the prince
regent burst somewhat unceremoniously into the room.

" My dear Horace, my dear Venetia," he said, tapping
the former familiarly upon the back, but at once flinging
his arm around the waist of the latter, " I thought I should
have been kept up by the Ministers till two or three o'clock
this morning. Fortunately, however, I have got rid of
them, and now I am my own master once again."

Thus speaking, he gave a significant nod to Lord Sack-
ville, who was compelled to obey it by at once leaving the
room. But as he turned away to seek the door, the colour
came and went upon his cheeks in such rapid transitions,
and he bit his ashy lip so violently, that the poignancy of
his emotions may be better conceived than described.

Venetia remained in the gorgeous saloon with the prince,
while her husband, not only baffled in the anticipation of
enjoying the company of his own wife that night, but also
compelled to sneak like a vile cur away, retired to his solitary
chamber. There he was compelled to gloat upon his titles
and his honours, in order to soothe the sense of shame and
degradation that rankled so bitterly in his mind.

Whatever annoyance Venetia might have felt at being
thus forced to yield to the whims and minister to the fan-
tasies of his Royal Highness, she nevertheless most artfully
and successfully veiled her emotions beneath a smiling
aspect.

" Do you know, my angel," said the prince, who had
evidently been drinking with tolerable freedom, and whose
vinous breath was most sickly and nauseating to Venetia
as he bestowed hot kisses upon her countenance, " do you
know," he said, " that those cursed Ministers, by coming
so suddenly and so unseasonably to pester me on state
affairs, deprived me of a little pastime which certain young
ladies had contemplated for my diversion? However, it
is not yet too late," he exclaimed, starting to his feet,
" and if you choose, you shall be a spectatress, though an
unseen one, of the amusement."

" Of what nature is this pastime? " inquired Venetia,
eagerly catching at anything that seemed calculated to
release her from the loathsome caresses which the prince
was now lavishing upon her.

" Come and see," he replied; and giving her his arm,

212 THE COURT OF LONDON

he conducted her across the principal landing, down a long
passage, into an antechamber, at the extremity of which
was a glass door communicating with another apartment.

" Remain here, my love," said the prince; " but if the
fantasy should seize you to come and join our sport, pray
do so without ceremony."

Having thus spoken, and bestowing another parting
caress upon Venetia, the prince hastened by the glass door
into the adjoining apartment.

Lady Sackville now approached this glass door, and
peeping between the crimson blinds in such a way that she
could see everything without being seen herself, she plunged
her looks into the interior of the magnificent saloon which
his Royal Highness had just entered. For magnificent it
indeed was, furnished in the most luxurious style, and
flooded with the light poured forth by numerous chandeliers
and lamps. But what chiefly interested Venetia was the
circumstance that five or six young ladies, all of whom she
recognized as belonging to the proudest families of the
aristocracy, had gathered around the prince, and were
assailing him with all the artillery alike of their charms and
their wit. Venetia was not jealous at the position in which
her royal lover was thus placed. She loathed and detested
him too cordially to experience a sentiment which, though
in itself a noxious weed, yet can only flourish when moistened
by the dews of love; and she likewise despised and con-
temned him more than ever for having brought her to behold
the present spectacle.

" He believes me to be utterly and thoroughly depraved/'
she thought within herself, " and that I take delight in all
kinds of profligacy. Well, perhaps the time may come
when I shall do so. At all events, henceforth I shall never
hesitate to follow my own inclinations, and gratify any
caprices that may take possession of me; for I perceive full
well that virtue is a mockery, delicacy a laughing-stock,
and propriety an imaginery thing, within the precincts of
a court."

Venetia was thus musing to herself, when she became
aware of footsteps behind her. She turned abruptly around,
and beheld Sir Douglas Huntingdon.

Now, it will be remembered that the baronet, when avail-
ing himself of his turn to prosecute the love-campaign

LORD AND LADY SACKVILLE 213

against Venetia (then Miss Trelawney), had proposed
marriage to the lady; and though she had declined the
proposal with a considerable amount of raillery and smart
repartee, they had parted most excellent friends. It is true
that Venetia was fully aware of Huntingdon's having
employed Captain Tash to watch her movements; but as
she had subsequently derived a positive and considerable
advantage (in the Malpas affair) from that circumstance,
she was by no means inclined to cherish it as a grudge
against the baronet. Moreover, she did not forget that he
had been one of the first to congratulate her at St. George's
Church upon her marriage. Altogether she rather liked him,
for he was excessively good-tempered, and we have already
said that he was of handsome though dissipated appearance;
but then it was that pale and interesting aspect of dissipation
which is not without its admirers amongst ladies in the
fashionable walks of life.

From these observations the reader will not be sur-
prised to learn that Venetia extended her hand in a most
friendly manner and smiled very graciously as she thus
found herself face to face with the baronet.

" Ah! Lady Sackville," he exclaimed, evidently astonished
to meet her in that anteroom. " It is always a pleasure to
encounter you anywhere; but may I ask what on earth
your ladyship is doing here? "

" The prince, with that exquisite taste which so often
characterizes him," replied Venetia, an expression of peculiar
contempt curling her lovely lip, " brought me hither to
behold some drama in which he is doubtless to perform
the principal part."

" It was precisely to take a share in this said drama,"
observed the baronet, " that the prince invited me hither
also. It is true that I am somewhat behind time; but I
cannot regret a delay which has produced me the pleasure
of meeting your ladyship."

" You know," said Venetia, in a tone of good-humoured
raillery, " that I always take compliments for precisely what
they are worth."

" If the syllables which fall from my lips were diamonds,"
answered Sir Douglas Huntingdon, " they would still be
of infinitely too poor a value to form a sentence that should
adequately proclaim your praise."

214 THE COURT OF LONDON

" That is assuredly the most costly flattery that has ever
yet been offered up to me/' observed Lady Sackville, with
one of her sweetest smiles. " But are you not going to enter
the room where your presence is doubtless wanted? "

" I would much rather remain here, if your ladyship
would permit me," replied the baronet, his looks settling
upon her with an admiration which though fervid was full
of respect.

" I cannot possibly refuse such agreeable conpanionship,"
answered Venetia; and suffering her eyes to linger upon him
for a moment, she gave him, as it were, that coquettish
kind of encouragement which may in reality mean nothing,
but which an enthusiastic admirer is sure to interpret far
otherwise.

" But will you remain here? " asked the baronet, glancing
toward the door leading into the saloon.

" Most assuredly," returned Venetia. " I am anxious to
behold this drama in which you were to perform a part;
and there can certainly be no harm in my contemplating
the scene, inasmuch as I recognize five or six young ladies of
the highest rank about to join in the diversions."

While thus speaking, Lady Sackville stooped slightly
down, and peeped between the blinds. Sir Douglas Hunting-
don followed her example, and their heads thus came in
gentle contact. The baronet was not likely to withdraw
from so pleasant a vicinage, and Lady Sackville did not.
Their heads thus remained touching each other, their hair
mingling; and in this position did they contemplate what
was passing within the gorgeously furnished and brilliantly
lighted saloon.

The young ladies of aristocratic birth were clad in the
light and gauzy apparel of figurantes, with their hair taste-
fully arranged, so that it appeared as if their forms were
arrayed and their toilet chosen with a view to produce a
dramatic effect. Very beautiful indeed were these young
ladies; but it was evident from their burning looks and
wanton attitudes that modesty with them was but a garment
of convenience.

A strain of music stole softly through the room, issuing
from a piano the position of which was unseen by Lady
Sackville and Sir Douglas Huntingdon at the glass door;
and now the aristocratic young ladies timed their graceful

LORD AND LADY SACKVILLE 215

steps to that delicious harmony. Taking from a sideboard
several garlands and wreaths of artificial flowers, they raised
them with their bare arms above their heads, playing with
them, as it were, in a manner that enabled them to show
off the beauties of their forms in attitudes more classically
graceful, more studiously indelicate, than the most reckless
ballet-dancer or figurante of the present day. Then suddenly
quickening their pace, they whirled around and around
the prince, flinging the garlands and the posies at him,
endeavouring to trip him up with the wreaths, and finally
making him the butt of a variety of practical jokes, more
calculated, however, to excite than to hurt him.

On his side, the prince regent amused himself in several
ways. Sometimes he raced and chased after the young
ladies, at others he threw himself panting and puffing upon
a sofa, one of the aristocratic beauties acting the part of
Hebe and bringing him a delicious beverage in a crystal
cup. Or else he would suddenly assume a thoughtful and
sentimental demeanour, — either taking a seat at a distance,
or else leaning pensively against a pillar, — so as to entice
the ladies toward him; and then, as they gathered around
him again, he would abruptly seize hold of the nearest,
fling his arms about her, and cover her with kisses, amidst
the pealing laughter and delighted cries of all the rest.

For upwards of ten minutes did Lady Sackville and Sir
Douglas Huntingdon continue peeping through the blinds,
their heads still remaining in that contact which we have
before noticed. The spectacle within the saloon was, of a
surety, sufficient to inflame their imaginations, and it cer-
tainly produced this effect. Moreover, on the one hand, Sir
Douglas Huntingdon was in such an attitude that by casting
down his eyes he could plunge his looks amidst the treasures
of Venetia's glowing bust; and on the other hand, the lady
herself, by casting an occasional sidelong glance at her
companion's profile, was led to the reflection that he was
really much handsomer than she had even supposed him to
be.

" What think you of that spectacle? " she suddenly
exclaimed, raising her head from the blinds, and as her
looks met those of the baronet, the colour deepened upon
her cheeks.

" I can only say that I regret we have not some artificial

216 THE COURT OF LONDON

flowers here in this anteroom/' replied Sir Douglas, " as
your ladyship might in that case condescend to practise the
same innocent pastime with me."

" It is a punishment, and not as a jest, that I throw this
at thee," exclaimed Venetia, suddenly detaching a bouquet
from the corsage of her dress and tossing it toward the
baronet.

" Ah! then it is as a revenge, and not as a mere insolent
liberty, that I treat your ladyship thus," returned the
baronet; and suddenly throwing his arms around Venetia's
neck, he pressed his lips to hers.

She received the caress without resentment, certainly,
although perhaps she did not exactly return it. But in
the look which she flung upon the baronet, as she disengaged
herself from his arms, there was something which elevated
his hopes to a frenzied height.

" Begone now," she said, hastily. " Let not the prince
suppose that you have been lingering here with me."

This very remark at once seemed to place the lady and
the baronet upon the most familiar footing, by implying,
as it were, that a secret had suddenly sprung into existence
between them. Intoxicated with the thought that Venetia,
the brilliant, beauteous, incomparable Venetia, would yet
bestow her favours upon him, Sir Douglas Huntingdon
snatched up her hand, pressed it to his lips, and then hurried
from the room.

Almost immediately afterward the prince came forth from
the saloon, carefully closing the glass door behind him;
and perceiving Venetia's flushed cheeks and palpitating
bosom, he attributed her excitement to no other cause than
the voluptuous spectacle which he had indeed purposely
brought her hither to view in the hope that it would inflame
her passions to a maddening height.

" Come with me, adored one," he murmured, as he pressed
his mouth to those lips that still bore the imprint of the
baronet's far more welcome caress; then fixing upon her
a look all burning with desire, the royal voluptuary led his
mistress away to his own suite of apartments.

CHAPTER XIX

AT the period of which we are writing, the authority of
the Secretary of State had not invaded the King's Bench
Prison with those innovations, encroachments, and changes
which have since robbed that establishment of all its peculiar
glory. The immense enclosure had not then been divided
into different compartments and yards respectively appro-
priated for the degrees and grades of insolvency and indebt-
edness; but the Bench was then indeed in its glory, as the
cesspool of the West End of London.

Resembling an enormous barrack standing in the midst
of spacious grounds, girt by a wall of the same height as the
edifice itself, and covered with those revolving iron spikes
that are technically termed chevaux-de-frise, having also
several detached buildings, such as the state house, the
coffee-house, and the kitchen, and with the principal portion
of the grounds themselves divided into racket-courts, —
such was the King's Bench Prison.

But there were many features connected with the place
which were celebrated then, have been celebrated until
very late years, and still remain doubtless memorable in
the minds of thousands and thousands who have passed
through the ordeal of captivity there. For instance, there
was the strong room, in which obstreperous prisoners were
confined, the chapel, where the parson preached to the clerk,
and the clerk said " amen " to the parson, for want of a
congregation, the little market-place close by the kitchen,
and the three pumps which marked the limits of each racket-
ground, the central pump being dignified with the name of
the Dolphin. Then there was the Tap, where the genuine
beverage brewed by Barclay and Perkins found shoals of

217

218 THE COURT OF LONDON

customers from morning to night; and at the other extremity
of the building, there was another public-room for the sale
of beer, and bearing the sign of the Brace. Moreover, in
the coffee-house there was an apartment enjoying the aris-
tocratic distinction of the wine-room, although considerably
smaller and a trifle less comfortable than 'the parlour of
a fifth-rate pot-house out-of-doors.

These and several other features connected with the
Bench are cherished in the memories of thousands and
thousands up to the present day; and now, as some old
prisoner takes his lonely walk up and down the melancholy
parade, he sighs as he recalls to recollection those times
when that parade and the adjacent racket-grounds were
swarming with life, when the whole scene was rather that
of a fair than of a prison, and when the voices of revellers
in the Tap, players and bettors at racket, merry fellows
shouting from the windows, and itinerant venders of all
kinds of comestibles, mingled strangely together and filled
the air.

There were, also, until late years, some curious characters
within the walls of the King's Bench Prison. First and
foremost was a stout, bluff-looking, red-faced man, not
unlike a sailor in his build and rolling walk. This was
Yorke, the crier, whose avocations consisted in escorting
visitors to the rooms of friends whom they came to see,
crying things that were lost, or making announcements of
festivities that were to take place either at the Tap or the
Brace, and performing all kinds of odd jobs for anybody
who was able to pay him. Next, as the presiding genius of
the Market-place, might be seen a tall, gaunt, scraggy old
woman, with a very weather-beaten face -and a nose and
chin that nearly met, like the profile of old Mother Hub-
bard in the picture-books. The female of whom we are
speaking was known as Old Nanny; and she sold fish,
vegetables, and anything else by which she could turn " a
decent penny." She generally wore either a man's great-
coat or else an old brown cloak; and a black bonnet, as rusty
as a japanned coal-scuttle that has been very much neglected,
was perched so airly and jauntily on the top of her head
that one would really have thought Old Nanny was a
coquette in her way.

In a sentry-box at the entrance of the innermost lobby

THE KING'S BENCH 219

invariably stood from morning to night a most dreadful-
looking old man, with his face twisting itself up into all
kinds of malignant, spiteful, and ferocious expressions. He
wore upon his head a great fur cap which gave him, when
viewed from a considerable distance, a false air of the lord
mayor's swordbearer. This nasty-looking veteran prisoner
was called Old Sims, and he posted himself in that sentry-
box that he might obtain alms from visitors entering the
place, to attract whose notice he was wont to shake a few
pence in a great tin box with a hole in the top to receive
any additional pence which the hand of benevolence might
drop in.

Several other remarkable characters were there; and to
a newcomer entering the place as a prisoner, as well as to
every one having business there as a visitor, were all the
above local features and human curiosities duly pointed out.
'Of the latter species we must not forget to observe that
there were several rare specimens in the shape of gentlemen
who had been there for ten, twenty, or even thirty years,
and who could get out at any moment they chose, but
who unaccountably preferred dwelling within those spike-
crowned walls.

Such was the King's Bench in the time of which we are
writing; and indeed, the description would hold good down
to a period of about eight or ten years ago. But, as we have
above hinted, the ruthless hand of official authority sud-
denly annihilated all indulgences and liberties with one
fell swoop. Were an equally sweeping reform to be applied
to all the great institutions of this country, incalculable
advantages would be the speedy result.

On being arrested at the suit of Mr. Emmerson, the
bill-broker, for the sum of five thousand guineas, Colonel
Malpas was borne off to the sponging-house of Mr. Moses
Ikey in Fetter Lane. There he remained for nearly three
weeks, in the hope of being able to come to a settlement
with his creditor; but vainly did he apply to his wife's
relations; they sent him no answer. Vainly also did he
address himself to some of his fashionable friends. The
affair at the banquet and the chastisement he received
from Captain Tash had got whispered abroad, and the
colonel found himself cut accordingly. The propositions
which he made to Mr. Emmerson were likewise treated

220 THE COURT OF LONDON

with silent contempt; and when he wrote a letter full of
penitence to the Countess of Curzon, it was returned to him
unopened in a blank envelope, the handwriting of the
address having been to her ladyship a sufficient indication
from whom the missive came.

Perceiving, therefore, that he had no immediate chances
of extricating himself from his difficulties, and finding it
too expensive to remain any longer at the establishment of
Mr. Moses Ikey, where the meanest and nastiest fare was
served up at the dearest and most exorbitant rate, the
colonel resolved to move over to the King's Bench. His
solicitor accordingly obtained the necessary writ of habeas
corpus; the colonel and his portmanteau were consigned
to a hackney-coach, under the care of a tipstaff; and in
due course the aforesaid colonel and portmanteau were
deposited in the upper lobby of the far-famed prison. There
he was at once called upon to pay a certain amount for
gate-fees; and having done this, it was suggested to him
that " all gentlemen as called themselves gentlemen were
accustomed to behave as sich and treat the turnkeys. "
To this further drain upon his exchequer the colonel like-
wise submitted; and he enjoyed the supreme satisfaction
of having his health drunk by the three thirsty-looking
turnkeys belonging to the upper lobby, and the two hungry
and thirsty-looking turnkeys annexed to the lower lobby.

He was now escorted to the coffee-house, where, upon
inquiry, he found that he could be accommodated with a
bedroom, which bedroom, upon inspection, turned out to-
be about the same dimensions as an ordinary clothes-
press. However, the colonel was compelled to submit to
the necessity of the case; and it being now five o'clock
in the afternoon, he inquired what he could have for dinner.
The reply was " anything he chose to order; " but it sub-
sequently proved that a steak or a chop would come most
conveniently within the culinary capabilities of the estab-
lishment.

Having accordingly agreed upon the materials for his
dinner, the colonel sat down, dolefully and despondingly
enough, to read the newspaper in the wine-room. But
scarcely had he commenced the perusal of a ponderous
leading article on nothing at all, when he was startled by
the sudden bursting forth of a stentorian voice just outside

THE KING'S BENCH 221

the window. He listened, and heard the following announce-
ment duly and deliberately made:

" Oyes! Oyes! Oyes! This is to give notice that if any-
body has found an old pair of black breeches, new seated,
which was took from the winder of MacHugh the tailor's
room, Number 3 in 10 Staircase, and will bring them to
the crier, he shall receive a pot of half-an'-half for his
trouble and no questions axed. God save the king! "

Old Yorke — for he it was who gave forth this very
interesting and exciting announcement — paused for a
few moments, cleared his voice from a little huskiness that
had seized upon it through too powerful a vociferation,
and then communicated another piece of intelligence to
the admiring denizens of the Bench:

" Oyes! Oyes! Oyes! Know ye all whom it may consarn,
and take notice, that a Free-and-easy will be held to-night
in the Brace, for the benefit of Mr. Peter Sniggles, who had
the misfortune to cut his head open by falling dead drunk
down No. 10 Staircase. The cheer will be taken by Mr.
Joseph Tubbs at eight o'clock precisely, when several
comic songs and other wocal harmony will take place.
God save the king! "

Old Yorke then passed on from the vicinage of the coffee-
house to repeat the announcements in other parts of the
building; and the colonel learned from the waiter who
brought in his dinner that those announcements were really
genuine and seriously meant, and not a mere hoax, as
Malpas had at first imagined them to be.

Having partaken of his meal, and while sipping the
first glass of an execrable pint of port, the colonel was
informed by the waiter that a gentleman wished to speak
to him.

" Who is he? " inquired Malpas.

" Well, sir, he's a lawyer as is well known in this here
place," answered the waiter, " and does a sight of business
for genelmen in difficulties. He whispered to me that he
could get you out of quod in three or four days — "

" Indeed! " ejaculated Malpas, his countenance brighten-
ing up. " What is his name? "

" Mr. Joshua Jenkins," answered the waiter. " Shall
I tell him to walk in? "

" By all means," responded the colonel; " and bring

222 THE COURT OF LONDON

a clean glass, as perhaps Mr. Jenkins will do me the favour
to take some wine with me."

The waiter slid out of the room with a most praiseworthy
alacrity, considering that he had to drag with him a pair
of shoes down at the heels and a great deal too large for
his feet. In a few minutes he returned, escorting a short,
seedy-looking individual, with very dirty linen and an
unmistakable Jewish countenance. In fact, the personal
appearance of this gentleman was by no means such as
would have induced a cautious individual to trust him to
get change for a five-pound note. The colonel, therefore,
surprised and disgusted at this unpromising aspect of the
man of business, received him in a somewhat frigid and
haughty fashion, just barely inviting him to be seated, but
not choosing to take any notice of the circumstance of an
extra glass being placed upon the table. Mr. Joshua
Jenkins was, however, a gentleman of the free and
easy school; and at once drawing a chair close up to the
table, he observed, " Well, colonel, so you are lumbered at
last! "

" You speak as if you knew me, sir," remarked Malpas,
surveying him with undisguised disgust.

" Oh, I know everybody by name about town," replied
Mr. Joshua Jenkins, with a cunning leer; " and therefore
it was not likely that the fashionable name of Malpas
should remain strange to me. In fact, I knew when you
was locked up over at Ikey's; and I should have come to
see you there, but I thought by your stopping at such a
place you was making arrangements to get out. Now,
however, that you have come over here, I thought it high
time to introduce myself. So here's better luck to you,
colonel," added Mr. Jenkins, coolly filling the glass and
raising it to his lips; then, with a familiar nod across the
table, he tossed off the contents.

" And pray, sir," inquired the colonel, sinking back
perfectly aghast at this King's Bench ease and hail-fellow-
well-met unceremoniousness, " and pray, sir," he repeated,
in his usual drawling tone, " what can you do for me? "

" Get you out of quod," replied Jenkins, with a knowing
wink, as he refilled his glass.

" Do you, then, know anybody who is likely to lend me
five thousand guineas? " inquired Malpas, surveying the

THE KING'S BENCH 223

seedy-looking lawyer with an expression of mingled incre-
dulity and superciliousness.

" Not I indeed," returned Jenkins. " I suppose you
would not pay the debt if you could; but would rather get
out, snap your fingers at your creditor, run over to France,
and make him take a farthing in the pound."

" But is it possible to manage this? " exclaimed Malpas,
somewhat staggered by the air of decision which the attorney
assumed.

" To be sure it is," was the still more positive response.

" And how? " demanded Malpas, looking and speaking
more civilly.

" By bail," rejoined Mr. Jenkins; and he tossed off two
glasses of wine in rapid succession.

"Ah! I have heard, by the bye, that something could be
done in this way," said Malpas, catching eagerly at the
suggestion.

"To be sure it can," continued the attorney. Then,
tapping his prominent nose with his very dirty forefinger,
and looking what may be termed greasily knowing with
his oily countenance, he said, " You are arrested on mesne
process; and of course by putting in an appearance and
plea you can keep off judgment. Well, then, by appearing
to the writ it is as much as to say that you mean to defend
the action and go to trial; and by meaning to go to trial,
you can put in bail in the interval. This is what is called
justifying; and it's easy done now, as the bail would have
to go before the judge in chambers."

" But I cannot get any two persons to put bail in for me
to such an amount," observed Malpas. " Remember that
I am detained here for five thousand guineas."

" Well, and you must have two bail each able to prove
himself worth ten thousand," returned Mr. Jenkins.

" Two men worth twenty thousand guineas between
them! " ejaculated Malpas, in despair. " I cannot obtain
such security."

" But I can," said Mr. Jenkins, slyly and drily.

" You can? " ejaculated Malpas, starting with joy.

" Yes, to be sure," responded Jenkins. " In fact, I brought
in with me just now a couple of bail for you to look at; and
I think they are just the very thing."

" Good heavens! " cried the colonel, in amazement; " do

224 THE COURT OF LONDON

you inspect bail in the Bench just as you do horses at
Tattersall's? "

" Ay, and a precious sight keener, too, when you want to
see whether they will pass muster," said Mr. Jenkins. " So
if you like to give me a hundred guineas, — that is to say,
forty for each of the bail to put in their pockets, and twenty
for myself, — the job shall be done; and in less than a week
you shall be out."

" But is it possible," cried the colonel, more and more
bewildered, " that any two wealthy gentlemen, worth ten
thousand guineas each, can be moved by such a paltry
consideration as forty pounds to incur so vast a risk on my
account? "

" Oh, yes," said Mr. Jenkins, with a peculiar smile; " the
two chaps that I have got along with me here this evening
would bail the devil if he would only pay them for it."

" You surprise me! " cried the colonel. " But where are
these two immensely rich money-making gentlemen? "

" I left them in the Tap, eating bread and cheese and
onions; and I paid for a pot of half-and-half for them
to enjoy themselves," coolly answered Mr. Joshua Jenkins.

The colonel started with the sudden indignation of one
who thought he was being bantered; but as a sudden idea
struck him and the real truth flashed to his comprehension,
he said:

" I suppose, then, that these people are what you call
straw bail? "

" Just so," replied Mr. Jenkins. " I am astonished you
did not twig it all along. Lord bless you, it's as easily done
as possible. I'll give you a proof. About a year ago a noble-
man owing three thousand pounds was arrested by Simon
the money-lender up at the West End. The nobleman's
father offered Simon fifteen shillings in the pound; but
Simon obstinately refused anything less than the whole.
Well, so the nobleman sent for me. I dressed up a tinker and
a dog's meat man in fine clothes, paid their rates and taxes
for them, took them up before a judge, made them swear
they were each worth six thousand pounds, and so justified
bail for the young nobleman. He was let out and bolted
to Guernsey, where he remained while I made terms with
Simon for him. And now, sir, how much do you think that
Simon was glad to take, after all? "

THE KING'S BENCH 225

" I really can't say," returned Malpas; " perhaps seven
and sixpence in the pound? "

" Nonsense! " ejaculated Mr. Jenkins. " I made him take
five farthings in the pound and stand a bottle of wine into
the bargain. So you see how easy these kind of things can
be done."

" I do, indeed," replied the colonel. " But is it possible
that the judge could be so easily duped? "

" Not he! " exclaimed the attorney. " His lordship
knows devilish well that when bail go up to justify for ten
thousand pounds, they are not really worth ten pence;
he knows, too, that the very clothes they wear at the time
are only lent them for the occasion; but he is obliged to take
their oaths that they are worth so much, provided the
solicitor on the other side can't show the contrary. And we
take devilish good care, colonel, that nothing of the kind
shall be shown at all. Why, would you believe it, I have had
that tinker and that dog's meat man up for bail so often, any
time during these last fourteen years, that their faces are
as well known to every one of the judges and every one of the
judges' clerks as they are to me or to their own wives; and
it is really quite amusing to see how solemnly the judge
always looks these fellows in the face, as if he had never seen
them before in all his life, and how he appears to take in
as gospel all they tell him about their immense resources.
But I don't always take up the same bail; that would be
coming it rather too strong, particularly as there is always
something different as to their profession or trade every
time they do go up. I have got a dog-fancier, — I might
even call him a dog-stealer, without telling a lie, — and
he's a capital bail, with the impudence of brass. The week
before last he went up, and the judge says, ' Well, sir, what
are you? ' ' A merchant, my lud,' was the prompt answer;
and then he went on to describe of what his merchandise
consisted, heaping together more silks, brocades, and costly
stuffs than you read of in the Arabian Nights. Well, last
week he went up again; and it happened to be the same
judge in chambers. ' Now, sir, what are you? ' asked the
judge, looking for all the world as if he had never seen such
a face before. ' I am a farmer and grazier in Scotland, my
lud,' was the dog-fancier's instantaneous reply; and he
went on to describe the thousand head of cattle that grazed

226 THE COURT OF LONDON

upon his hills, and the ten thousand sheep that fed upon
his pastures. So of course it was all right again. Well, at
the beginning of this week I took him up once more; and
it happened to be the very selfsame judge as on the two
former occasions. ' Now, sir, what are you? ' asked his
lordship, so polite and civil as if he no more saw through the
dodge than the babe unborn. ' I am an Oporto wine-mer-
chant, my hid,' replied the dog-fancier, coolly; and he went
on to describe how he had got fifty pipes of port wine in
the Channel Islands, ready for the English market, and how
he had already refused sixty guineas apiece for them. Of
course he was accepted; and so you see, Colonel Malpas, that
I am pretty successful in the bail that I take up. In fact,
I can give you plenty of references to prove that I am the best
straw bail agent in London. And now, with your permis-
sion, I'll ring the bell for another pint of wine."

No sooner said than done; the wine was brought, and
while Mr. Joshua Jenkins discussed it, the bargain was
confirmed relative to the bail by the colonel paying twenty
guineas down and agreeing to deposit eighty more in the
hands of the master of the coffee-house, to be duly handed
over to Mr. Jenkins aforesaid on the bail passing the scrutiny
of the judge. Mr. Jenkins then took his leave; and Colonel
Malpas remained for a short time alone, to ponder over
the singular statements he had heard from the lips of the
lawyer.

But in a few minutes the door was suddenly burst open,
and five or six individuals, of shabby-genteel appearance,
rushed one upon the heels of another into the wine-room.
They evidently thought that this noisy and unceremonious
mode of entrance was highly diverting, for they laughed
boisterously as they flung themselves upon the benches at the
table nearest to that where the colonel was sitting.

Almost immediately afterward the waiter made his ap-
pearance, saying, " Now, genelmen, give your orders/' but
in a tone which showed that he did not highly admire his
customers.

"Wellt what shall it be? " cried one, appealing to his
companions.

" Oh, glasses of negus around," said another. " There
are six of us. Come, waiter, half a dozen glasses of negus.
Look sharp! "

THE KING'S BENCH 227

" Oh, yes, sir, I am looking sharp enough, " responded
the waiter; " but I want to see the money before I serve
the lush."

" What cursed infernal impudence! " ejaculated the one
who had first spoken. " Who the devil ever thinks of
asking a gentleman for money? For my part/' he added,
" I have left my purse up in my room, which is deuced
imprudent, by the bye, seeing it is full of gold and bank-
notes."

" And as for my purse," remarked another of the delectable
party, fumbling in his pocket, " it has got through a hole
down into the linings of my breeches, and I sha'n't be able
to fish it up until I take my small-clothes off. It's deuced
provoking, for I've got at least five pounds of small change
in it, and should have been delighted to stand treat."

" Well, upon my word, we seem to be out of luck," ex-
claimed the third member of the party, " for I've got nothing
but a bank-note for a hundred guineas," he continued,
drawing out an old brown silk purse with a playbill rustling
in one end; " and there's no chance of getting change for
such a heavy piece of flimsy in this place to-night."

" Deuce take it! " cried a fourth; " if I had known that
you were all exposed to such inconveniences as these, I
would not have lent that twenty guineas just now to Lord
Smigsmag. But really it was impossible to refuse his lordship
under the circumstances."

" Oh," exclaimed the fifth, " don't make yourselves
uneasy. I've got plenty of money about me," and thus
speaking, he thrust his hands with all confidence into his
breeches' pocket. Then suddenly starting as if alarmed
by a chimney falling or a cry of fire, he vociferated, " By
heavens! I have lost my purse, I have lost my purse! "
and he affected to be in a tremendous rage.

" Now, was there ever anything so regularly unfortunate? "
exclaimed the sixth member of this precious group, drawing
forth the remains of a cheque-book from which a great num-
ber of drafts had been cut out. " Here am I, not only able
but also willing to write you a cheque for a cool hundred or
two, just as you like; but now it is after business hours in
Lombard Street, and so it's all the same as if I had not
a twopenny-piece in all the world at my banker's."

" Well, it raly is wery provoking," exclaimed the waiter,

228 THE COURT OF LONDON

with a covert sarcasm in his tone, " to see six genelmen all so
well-to-do in their circumstances and so full of blunt as you
are, and not able just at this present speaking to raise six
shillings between you all."

" It is provoking — very," said one of the party, looking
full at Malpas; " and if I knew anybody who would just
lend me as much as six shillings till to-morrow morning,
I would send them in to him with my card and a note of
thanks just as he sat down to his breakfast."

The colonel, who was too wide-awake not to see through
the characters of the six gentlemen, made no remark, and
indeed affected not to observe that any hint had been thrown
out toward himself.

" Did you speak, sir? " said the foremost of the party,
now boldly addressing the colonel, but with a very bland
look and polite bow.

" No, sir, I said nothing," replied Malpas, somewhat
sulkily.

" There, by heavens! the gentleman is a trump," vocifer-
ated the previous speaker. " He offers to treat us to glasses
of negus around. Come, waiter, look alive; the gentleman
is anxious to pay his footing, and we are anxious to drink
his health."

The colonel was so taken aback by the cool impudence
of this proceeding that he could not return a negative to the
inquiring look which the waiter threw upon him; and this
functionary, acting upon the principle that silence gives
consent, at once shuffled away to execute the order.

" Newcomer, sir? " said one of the party to the colonel.

" Yes, I am sorry to say so," responded Malpas, not
deeming it prudent to treat his fellow prisoners with any
marked coolness.

" Going to stay here long? " asked another.

" In for much? " blandly inquired a third.

" Going through the court? " mildly asked a fourth.

" Or going to bail out? " said a fifth.

" If you stay here any time," observed the sixth, " you'll
want a room. Now, as there are only about a hundred and
twenty rooms in the place, each not large enough to swing
a cat in, and seven hundred prisoners to live in them all,
it's rather a difficult thing to get a room to oneself at any
price. But as you seem to be a regular gentleman and are

THE KING'S BENCH 229

standing this negus in so handsome a manner, I shouldn't
mind letting you have my room for about a couple of guineas
a week."

But before the colonel had leisure to answer a single one
of the above questions, or give any reply to the proposal
concerning the room, the waiter made his appearance with
the negus; and the conversation thereupon seemed to take
a new impulse and flow into a variety of other channels.

" Now, my good fellow," said the foremost of the party,
addressing himself to the colonel in terms as familiar as if
he had known him from childhood, " while drinking your
health I must beg of you not to take on too much on account
of this imprisonment. Lord bless you! it's nothing when
you are accustomed to it. Look at me now."

Colonel Malpas did as he was desired, but could not help
thinking that there was nothing very agreeable or pleasant
to contemplate in the appearance of a bloated, dissipated,
rakish-looking fellow, with long, dry, dirty hair, and linen
that seemed to imply that he had forfeited the confidence
of his washerwoman.

" Well, you see me? " continued this individual; " and
such as you see me, so I am," he added, thus enunciating
a self-evident proposition. " I am just twenty-seven years
old, and I've been six years in this place. When I came of
age I had twenty thousand pounds, all of which I spent in
nine months. For three months I played at hide-and-seek;
then I got taken and locked up here, and here I've been ever
since, and am likely to remain God knows how much longer.
That's what I call life; " and he burst out into a fit of up-
roarious laughter, in which his five companions as boister-
ously joined.

" Well, I've seen a little of life, too," remarked the second.
" When I came of age I had a thousand pounds, and made
everybody believe that I had got a fortune of fifty thousand.
So I lived in glorious style, got into debt as much as people
would let me, kept hunters, race-horses, and hounds, drove
my four-in-hand, gave champagne parties, had a town-house,
a country-house, a crib down at Newmarket, another at
Melton, and a shooting-box in the Highlands, and thus
kept up a roaring game for two years. At last the smash
came. Everything went to the dogs, and I was brought over
here. That was eight years ago, and here I've been ever

230 THE COURT OF LONDON

since. Now, wasn't that a lark? " he exclaimed, laughing
most joyously at this unblushing revelation of his rascality,
while his boon companions joined in his mirth.

" Well, I did even better than that," said the third; " for
when I came of age I hadn't a blessed farthing in the world.
But I bought a precious large pair of whiskers and mus-
tachios in the Burlington Arcade, clapped a long, jingling
pair of spurs upon my heels, wore a frogged coat, stuck my
hat jauntily over my right ear, and called myself Captain.
Thus decorated personally and titularly, I took up my
abode at Long's Hotel and lived in the most sumptuous
manner. The fashionable jewellers were delighted to supply
the Captain with all he wanted in the shape of watches,
chains, rings, and so on; and the Captain borrowed their
full value on them from that accommodating relative, his
uncle. Things went on well enough in this manner for nearly
a twelvemonth, and I was on the point of marrying an
heiress with a hundred thousand pounds, when the very
night before the happy morning, I unfortunately left my
pocketbook behind at the house of my intended. Her papa
and mamma — like prying old folks as they were — could
not resist the curiosity of peeping inside, just to catch a
glimpse of the Captain's little secrets, when, lo and behold!
to their astonishment and dismay, they found the said
pocketbook crammed with pawnbrokers' duplicates. Early
next morning, just as I was dressing for my bridal, not
having previously missed the pocketbook, nor suspecting
the storm which was about to burst over my head, a parcel
was put into my hand by the head waiter at Long's. I tore
it open, and out dropped the fatal pocketbook, accom-
panied by a note from my intended's papa, couched in terms
which always make me feel very uncomfortable when I think
of them. Of course it was all up with the matrimonial
scheme; the landlord of Long's arrested me for my bill, I
was brought to the Bench, and here I have been vegetating
for the last four years. How the devil I shall ever get out,
not daring to face all those jewellers in the insolvent's court,
I really don't know, nor yet particularly care," and this
conclusive observation was the signal for another uproarious
burst of laughter.

"Ah! my career was equally short, perhaps not so bril-
liant, and most assuredly ten thousand times more foolish,"

THE KING'S BENCH 231

exclaimed the fourth of this delectable party, when the
laughter had again subsided. " On coming of age, I received
thirty thousand pounds of my own fortune, and married a
young lady who had fifty thousand pounds as her fortune.
But within three months after this marriage I was introduced
to Madame Profligata, the celebrated actress, and though
she is not half so good-looking as my own wife, yet I was fool
enough to fancy that it was a very grand thing to have such
a woman as my mistress. I accordingly made overtures,
and came to an agreement to allow her a house, carriage, and
five hundred a year; but the very day after she was installed
in her new dwelling, she told me that she could not possibly
stir out for want of diamonds. I accordingly sent to the
most fashionable jeweller to bring up some sets of brilliants;
and I offered madame a present of gems valued at about
a thousand guineas. Thereupon she burst out laughing in
my face, and told me if I meant to do things in a chandler's
shop style we had better cut it at once. I trembled at the
idea of being ridiculed before all the world by losing my
mistress for such a trifle, and therefore allowed her to select
diamonds to the amount of six thousand guineas. To be
brief, madame required so many valuables of all descriptions,
had so many long-standing debts which must be paid, and
went out shopping so incessantly, that in less than three
months she positively wheedled me out of twenty thousand
pounds. Her extravagance grew more unbounded as she
perceived that I was soft and yielding, so that before we
had been a year together she had swallowed up not only my
own fortune, but also my wife's. And now, speaking of my
wife, I may as well state that she returned home to her
friends, while I lived altogether with madame. All my ready
cash being gone, my insatiate mistress taught me how to
raise money upon bills; and strange, almost incredible as
it may seem, I negotiated in one year my own acceptances
to the tune of eighty thousand guineas, for which all the
value that we obtained was about three thousand in money,
ten thousand in wine, which nobody could drink, ten thou-
sand in pictures, the veriest of daubs, and all the rest was
absorbed in what was called discount and commission.
At last, when my name was so regularly worn out that not
a discounter would look at it, madame picked a quarrel
with me, and we parted. The very next day I heard that she

232 THE COURT OF LONDON

had picked up another flat whom she took to live with her.
As for myself, being immediately arrested on some of the
bills falling due, I was brought over to the Bench; and being
uncommonly hard up, I pocketed my resentment against
madame, and wrote to her to lend me fifty pounds, as I
happened to be well aware that she had received five thou-
sand two days before from her new lover. But she laughed
in my messenger's face, and told him to go about his business.
To conclude, I have been three years in this place, and
during that period have beheld the arrival not only of the
flat who succeeded me in the favours of Madame Profligata,
but also of four others who during the interval have succes-
sively been her paramours and her dupes. But never
mind," he exclaimed, assuming an air of jollity which was
not, after all, quite natural, " we must take things as we
find them, and fling care to the dogs! "

" Yes, that's the only maxim to be followed in a place like
this," said the fifth individual. " I suppose we have all been
very gay and very foolish in our time. For my part, although
now only in my twenty-sixth year, I have run through three
fortunes, amounting altogether to a hundred and fifty
thousand guineas. The first was left me by my grandfather,
the second by an uncle, and the third by my father; but I
had a mania for aristocratic acquaintances, and what with
playing at dice with dukes, at ecart<§ with earls, at cribbage
with counts, and billiards with baronets, I got so completely
plucked that I at last found myself here, and not a feather
to fly with."

" And I suppose not one of your fine acquaintances has
ever been in to see you? " observed the sixth individual.
" Ah! that is just like them. Five years ago, on coming of
age, I inherited a fortune of fourteen thousand pounds, and
a certain fashionable friend honoured me with an introduc-
tion to his Royal Highness the Prince Regent. His Royal
Highness, hearing I had come of age and inherited prop-
erty which was at my own disposal, was pleased to smile
upon me most graciously. The next gracious mark of the
princely favour was a very gracious invitation to a select
supper at Carlton House, where I was introduced to five or
six of his Royal Highness's boon companions. After supper
his Royal Highness was most graciously pleased to propose
dice; and while playing with me, I could not help noticing

THE KING'S BENCH 233

that his Royal Highness was no mean adept at securing a
die, — or, in other words, cheating most flagrantly. But who
could tell a prince that he was a downright sharper, — es-
pecially such a gracious prince as that, who robbed you be-
fore your very eyes in a style so well becoming the first gentle-
man in Europe! As a matter of course I submitted with the
best possible grace to be thus graciously fleeced of all I
possessed; and after five or six select little suppers at Carlton
House, I was as thoroughly cleaned out by that same gracious
prince as it was possible for man to be. Finding myself
thus agreeably and pleasantly ruined, and calling to mind the
numerous promises which his Royal Highness had so gra-
ciously made to provide for me, I ventured to call at Carlton
House and explain my exact position to that gracious prince.
He listened with his wonted suavity of look while I frankly
declared how penniless I was and besought him to lose no
time in fulfilling his generous intentions by bestowing a
situation upon me. ' And so you have got no more money? '
his Royal Highness was most graciously pleased to observe.
' Not a farthing, sir/ I answered. ' Then, damn your eyes/
he exclaimed, becoming quite purple in the face, ' what the
devil business have you here? ' and, turning upon his heel,
he rang the bell for me to be shown out. Reduced to despair
by this proceeding, and being painfully brought to the
conviction that his Royal Highness was the most ungracious
prince in the world, I plunged headlong into all kinds of
dissipation to drown care. Dissipation led to extravagance,
extravagance to debt, and debt to the King's Bench, where
I have been for the last four years, and mean to stop because
I can manage to pick up a guinea by hook or by crook within
these walls, which I should be somewhat puzzled to do out-
side."

Our readers will not have failed to observe that despite
all their previous blusterings, vapourings, and boastings
about well-filled purses, lost purses, lent money, cheque-
books, and so forth, the half-dozen gentlemen really and
truly were reduced to the sad alternative of living upon
their wits, even within the walls of a debtors' gaol, where it
might be thought that everybody's wits were too sharp
to permit the possibility of being lived upon by any save
their owners. It will likewise have been observed that when
once the half-dozen comrades had induced the colonel to

234 THE COURT OF LONDON

treat them to the negus, — or, rather, had succeeded in
obtaining it in his name, — they very freely put him in
possession of the incidents of their past lives. Finally, as
their tales and conversation served to while away the
colonel's time, he encouraged their garrulity by a fresh
supply of negus; and in this manner did the party continue
chatting and drinking until eleven o'clock, when the lights
were put out in the coffee-room.

Malpas then went up to bed, and the six friends strolled
forth " to make the tour of the whistling shops," or, in
other words, to visit every room where gin (prohibited by
the gaol regulations) was sold on the sly.

CHAPTER XX

A SCENE IN THE DARK

WE must now return to Jocelyn Loftus and Laura Linden,
whom we left together in the dead of night and in the utter
darkness of a chamber at the prefecture of police.

The reader will remember that the young lady declared
it to be utterly impossible for her to pass through the opening
into her own apartment, and it had been agreed that she
was to remain in our hero's chamber until daylight should
enable them to enlarge the aperture, for be it recollected
that they dared not light the candles again after the per-
emptory command and undisguised menace of the watchman.

The moment Jocelyn thus found that it was absolutely
necessary — or, at least, to all appearances — that Laura
should remain until dawn in his apartment, he again rose,
as it were, superior to the perplexities of his situation, and
in the calm and courteous tone of a gentleman who wishes
to show that his aim is to observe the most delicate con-
sideration toward a female companion, he said, " Miss
Linden, I pray you to use my couch as a sofa, and I will
envelop myself in my cloak and repose in the armchair
between the windows."

This observation was significant enough, inasmuch as the
position which Loftus thus specified, and to which he at
once felt his way in the dark, placed the whole length of
the room between himself and Laura Linden. Accordingly,
enveloping himself in his mantle, Loftus threw himself
in the armchair, and for a few minutes a profound silence
reigned in the apartment.

" Is not this a most romantic and singular adventure? "
said Laura, at length, in that low, tremulous, and half-
plaintive voice which is ofttimes woman's most dangerous

236

236 THE COURT OF LONDON

weapon, inasmuch as it steals insidiously into that heart
from which the more boldly played artillery of other charms
has innocuously rebounded.

" It is one of those incidents which are more frequently
encountered in novels than in real life/' answered Loftus,
sorry in his heart that the previously prevailing silence was
thus broken by renewed discourse; and at the same time it
struck him that the young lady's voice had undergone
some slight change since she had last spoken. Indeed, a
vague and undefined suspicion stole gradually into the breast
of our young hero that this voice, as he had last heard it, was
not altogether unknown to him.

" What would the world think if it knew of this adven-
ture? " continued Laura, her voice appearing as if it were
passing from a previously feigned to a now more natural
tone, as if she either forgot that she had previously been
disguising that voice somewhat, or as if she were now pur-
posely allowing it to resume its wonted intonation.

" The world will never know from my lips anything
that might be disagreeable or unpleasant," observed Joce-
lyn, a vague feeling of uneasiness now coming over him as
his suspicions relative to the voice grew stronger and
stronger.

Not that he could yet call to mind where he had ever
heard that voice before, even if he had really ever heard it
at all until this night, but he was full certain that it was
undergoing a gradual change from an assumed melody
to its natural one.

" Ah! you do not think, Mr. Loftus," observed Laura,
her voice becoming more tremulous, as if vibrating with
some strong feeling or growing passion, " you do not think
that the world would give us credit for being such a good
girl and boy as we really are? You fancy that the world,
like a too suspicious parent, would be certain to believe that
we have been naughty children? "

" Heavens, Miss Linden! " exclaimed Loftus, shocked at
the gross indelicacy of the remark, and therefore speaking
in a tone of unmistakable displeasure. " let us not talk in
this strain. Indeed, unless you compose yourself to sleep,
you will be thoroughly exhausted with fatigue and totally
unfit to encounter all that we may have to accomplish
to-morrow night."

A SCENE IN THE DARK 237

"It is impossible to sleep with a strong current of air
coming through this aperture/' said Laura; and Jocelyn
could hear by the elastic bound of her feet alighting upon
the floor that she had leaped from the couch.

" Permit me to do my best to stop that aperture," he
said, rising from his seat and slowly advancing through the
darkness toward the alcove. " Perhaps I can replace the
panel of the wainscot in such a manner as to protect you
from the draught."

" I do not believe it possible," said Laura, in a tone which
evidently came from lips that were pouting with subdued
ill-humour at the moment.

" Then let us light a candle at any risk — "

" Ah! doubtless for you to see my face, now that you
know the veil is off," she cried, with a merry laugh.

" I can assure you, Miss Linden, that I have no imperti-
nent curiosity of such a nature," answered Jocelyn, in a voice
coldly expressive of displeasure.

" Oh, no, no," ejaculated Laura, her humour suddenly
changing again, and this time into a bitterness which she
did not attempt to conceal, " you have no curiosity of any
kind, Mr. Loftus; your heart is ice — ice to the very core.
I declare that it is almost an insult to a young and beautiful
woman as I am, that you have not spoken to me a single
word such as young gentlemen do speak to young ladies.
There — you know what I mean — but I cannot explain
myself any better. At all events, I feel slighted, neglected.
Why don't you answer me, sir? " she exclaimed, with a
petulance almost amounting to rage as she stamped her foot
upon the floor.

" Heavens! what a little demoness," thought Jocelyn
within himself; but in a cold and apparently unmoved
manner, he said, " Miss Linden, you thanked me just now
for the brotherly kindness which, as you were pleased to
observe, I manifested toward you when you felt unwell,
and therefore you will perceive the inconsistency of at
present accusing me of deliberately slighting you."

" Answer me one question, sir," exclaimed Laura, hastily
and impetuously; " do you wish to escape hence? "

" Most assuredly," replied Loftus. " But wherefore a
question so singular under the circumstances? "

" Because you cannot escape without my assistance/'

238 THE COURT OF LONDON

returned Laura; " and that assistance you are not so certain
of having as you were just now."

" Good heavens! " exclaimed Loftus, bewildered and
chagrined; " is it possible that I have really offended you? "

" I have already told you," said Laura, in a voice that
again became low, deep, and tremulous, — but whether
with real or affected emotion Jocelyn knew not, — "I have
already told you that men of the highest rank and most
brilliant position have besieged me with their overtures,
some upon honourable terms, others upon dishonourable,
and while I have spurned the latter, I have steadily refused
the former. But wherefore? Because in my own heart I had
already conjured up the ideal image of such a being as alone
could win my love. To that idealism have I clung; it has
been to me a dream and a worship, until at last I have felt
that my very happiness depended upon its realization.
I have pondered and pondered upon that image until I have
led myself, as it were, to become desperately enamoured of
it, and I have vowed that never, never, would I bestow my
affections upon any one who did not realize in his person and
his mind all that was beautiful, attractive, and endearing
in that creation of my fancy. Conceive, then, my astonish-
ment and my delight when on passing ere now into this
chamber I beheld in you the personification of that delicious
idealism."

" Miss Linden, not another word, not another syllable in
this strain, I conjure you, I command you! " cried Loftus,
in a tone but too plainly indicative of outraged feeling.
"This scene reminds me of temptations, arts, and wiles to
which I was exposed ere my captivity; and did I not believe
that the three ladies to whom I now allude are far, far
away from Paris, I should actually fancy that you were
one of them," he added, vehemently. " Therefore, Miss
Linden, for Heaven's sake, let us have no more of a scene
which in truth is as derogatory to you as it is painful and
revolting to me."

" Mr. Loftus," interrupted Laura, suddenly assuming
a tone of decision, " I see that it is now necessary we should
thoroughly understand each other; for you are more flinty-
hearted than I had at first imagined."

" Yes, let us understand each other," said Loftus, " since
it would seem that we had mistaken each other's character,

A SCENE IN THE DARK 239

— I, in believing that you were a young lady of discretion
as well as magnanimity, and you in supposing that I am
unmindful of my duty alike to you and to myself."

" Oh, that we had a light!" exclaimed Laura Linden,
sarcastically, " so that I might see your countenance flushing
with the virtuous indignation that is doubtless now reddening
it."

" But for the explanations? " said Loftus, impetuously.

" They will soon be given, so far as I am concerned,"
answered Laura. " Anxious and longing as I have been
to effect my escape hence, yet that aspiration has now
become secondary indeed to another hope which I have
conceived, and on the fulfilment of which the former shall
even be made to depend. For I am self-willed, Mr. Loftus,
yes, self-willed and headstrong as I am petulant and impetu-
ous; and therefore you must know, in one word, that I love
you, and that if you scorn this love of mine it shall turn
to the bitterest hatred."

" Miss Linden," observed Loftus, coldly indignant, " you
will provoke me to say things to which I should be sorry
to give utterance."

" Mr. Loftus, if you mean war to the death, then war
let it be," cried Miss Linden; " but in that case, remember
that I shall not hesitate to sacrifice myself in order to be
revenged on you. I will therefore confess to the prefect's
servant in the morning all the preparations for escape which
have been made — "

" Foolish young woman! you will draw down a terrible
punishment upon yourself," ejaculated Loftus. " You
will perhaps be moved to another and far more dreadful
prison."

" What of all that, so long as I gratify my revenge? "
exclaimed Laura. " It is for you to decide whether you will
provoke that vengeance, — whether you will continue to
scorn, slight, and even insult me, or whether you will consent
to gratify this whim I have conceived by becoming my lover
for a week, a day, or only an hour, as you may choose. Oh,
Mr. Loftus, do not remain thus hard-hearted! Remember
that I am beautiful, very beautiful, and the world will know
nought of what takes place between us in an hour of yielding
tenderness."

" Temptress, who art thou? " exclaimed Jocelyn, now

240 THE COURT OF LONDON

becoming angry and almost enraged. " Thy voice is familiar
to me; I am certain I have heard it before — "

" Yes," interrupted Laura, in a low tone; " and I have
seen thee before, and I know more of thee than thou thinkest,
and I could breathe in thy ear the name which ought to
have been in the passport."

" Then, who art thou? Tell me who thou art," exclaimed
our young hero, becoming more and more excited; " for
there is something so strange, so mysterious in all this."

" Stay, let me whisper a word to your ear," said Laura,
" and you will then see that I know everything concerning
you."

" Speak aloud, -Miss Linden! " cried Jocelyn, who per-
ceived by the rustling of her dress that she was approaching
him through the pitchy darkness which prevailed.

" Ah! you are afraid of me? " she exclaimed, scornfully.
" Oh, what sickly sentimentalism, what a maudlin affecta-
tion of virtue is all this! Even the beauteous Louisa Stanley
herself," she continued, with a marked accentuation upon
a name which made Jocelyn start suddenly, " could scarce
think well of one who seems not to be made of flesh and
blood."

" You have alluded to a young lady," said Loftus, " whose
example it were well, Miss Linden, if you would follow. But
let me beseech and implore you to put an end to a scene as
derogatory as it is painful, as humiliating as it is ridiculous."

There was a dead silence of nearly a minute, and then
the lady's voice suddenly vibrated upon Jocelyn's ear,
exclaiming, " Oh, I love thee, I love thee! " and the next
instant he heard her come bounding toward him like a ser-
pent flinging its coils through the utter darkness at some
object which a mysterious instinct impelled it to seize upon,
so that ere Jocelyn had leisure to step back even a couple
of paces, he was clasped in the arms of his midnight com-
panion.

Violent was that embrace, as if the young lady's impas-
sioned nature were wrought up to a frenzied pitch. The
plump white arms were thrown so suddenly around his
neck and held him in so firm a clasp, and the lips of the
temptress were instantaneously glued to his own with so
burning an intenseness, that it seemed as if it were impos-
sible for him to escape from the empire of such an Amazonian

A SCENE IN THE DARK 241

assailant. But, immediately recovering his presence of
mind, he endeavoured to disengage himself from her em-
brace, in which, however, she held him with all the greater
tenacity. He used a little more violence, and then she clung
to him with the force of desperation.

" Miss Linden, take care, I shall do you a mischief," cried
Jocelyn.

" You would not ill-use a woman," replied Laura; and
she covered his face with frantic kisses, as if hurried away
by the torrent of raging passions which she could not control.

"By Heaven, this is intolerable!" cried Jocelyn. " O
shameless young woman! "

" Ah! revile, abuse me as you will," said Laura, with a
triumphant tone; " but I will either perish or compel you
to fall vanquished into the arms of my consummated de-
sires."

" You force me to extremes," cried Loftus, now seizing
both her arms and somewhat violently disengaging them
from about his neck.

Laura struggled desperately to retain her hold, and
Jocelyn could hear her gasping and moaning with rage, like
a subdued tigress, when she found herself baffled and de-
feated in the conflict. But be it well understood that he
exhibited not the slightest unnecessary violence toward her;
he merely put forth his strength to a sufficient degree to
unlock her arms from his neck. The struggle was neverthe-
less a difficult one, inasmuch as it took place in the depth of
a pitchy darkness, and it was therefore no fault of our hero's
if Laura, suddenly tripping over a rug, fell heavily upon the
floor, where she remained senseless.

For a few moments Loftus, though deeply grieved at
this incident, fancied that her immovability and silence
were only a pretence, but finding that she continued thus
still and speechless, he stooped down and laid his hand
upon her forehead. It was cold, and there was a clammy
perspiration upon it. Beginning to be seriously alarmed,
he placed his hand upon her heart, and felt that though
it beat, the pulsation was nevertheless slow and feeble. A
mortal terror now seized upon him, for he feared that she
might be in reality seriously injured and perhaps about to
die, and for a few instants he felt so bewildered as scarcely
to know what course to pursue.

242 THE COURT OF LONDON

But suddenly it struck him that under such circumstances
he must not hesitate to procure a light at any risk. The
resolve was adopted and executed. Tinder, flint, steel,
and matches were at hand; in another moment they were
put into requisition, and he accordingly at once proceeded
to strike a light.

The candle was lighted, he held it over the countenance
of the lady who was stretched upon the floor, and an ejacu-
lation burst from his lips. Heavens, was it indeed possible?
And was the half-suspicion which he had ere now expressed
so signally confirmed?

But at that ejaculation which thrilled from his lips the
lady herself opened her eyes, looked up, and then gave
vent to a wild cry of mingled disappointment, rage, and
terror, for she saw that detection had overtaken her sooner
than she had purposed or anticipated; and thus did accident
reveal to Jocelyn Loftus the identity of the false Laura
Linden with the depraved though beautiful Julia Owen.

CHAPTER XXI

THE PREFECT AND HIS GUESTS

WE must now inform our readers that on this same
memorable night when Jocelyn Loftus and Laura Linden,
alias Julia Owen, were thrown together, the prefect of police
entertained a few special friends at a choice supper in the
saloon belonging to his own magnificent suite of apartments.

The prefect himself was in uniform, he having attended
the Legislative Assembly that day in his ministerial capacity,
and the gentlemen whom he was thus regaling with the
elegant little banquet consisted of his own two private
secretaries, the under-secretary of state for the Department
of the Interior, and three well-dressed young men who had
no ostensible profession nor any visible sources of income,
but who nevertheless lived well and cut an excellent figure
in the French metropolis. In plain terms, these last-men-
tioned individuals were pensioned spies, or mouchards,
secretly attached to the prefecture of police.

We need hardly say that all the guests thus assembled
were Frenchmen, and the conversation flagged not during
the meal, as it usually does with Englishmen when similarly
employed. On the contrary, the gastronomic proficiency
of the prefect's cook, displayed as it was in substantial
specimens of the art now served up on massive silver dishes,
afforded not only delicious food for the palate but also for
the discourse. The wines were of the most exquisite descrip-
tion and circulated freely; but with true French refinement
in Apician indulgence and epicurean luxuriousness, the
party lingered a long time over the banquet, drinking the
healths of all the most beautiful women of the day, and
pledging each other with brimming glasses and fervid pres-
sures of the hand, in the true French style of cordial, heartfelt

243

244 THE COURT OF LONDON

conviviality. Now, as it was eleven o'clock before this
festival commenced, it was some time past midnight ere
it terminated. The prefect and his companions then passed
into an adjoining saloon, where the tables were spread with
a choice dessert, another and still more rare selection of
wines, coffee, and burnt punch.

" I thought, my dear friend," said the under-secretary
of the Interior, addressing the prefect of police, " that you
promised to have that enormously rich English nobleman,
the Marquis of Leveson, here to-night? "

" Such was my intention," responded the prefect, " and I
believe it will yet be fulfilled. The marquis would have joined
us earlier, but is obliged to be at the ball given by the
British ambassador to-night. He however promised that
he would get away soon after twelve and then come and
join us."

"Is he making a long stay in Paris? " asked the under-
secretary of state, whose name was Jules Martignac.

" He has been here about a fortnight, on business of a
somewhat particular and delicate nature," returned the
prefect, with a meaning smile.

" No doubt Monsieur Jules Martignac is as well acquainted
with that business as ourselves," observed one of the pre-
fect's private secretaries.

" No, indeed I am not," exclaimed the under-secretary
of state. " Of course I could be if I chose, inasmuch as
there are no secrets at the prefecture which are not known
at the Ministry of the Interior. But to tell you the truth,
I have been so very gay lately."

" Ah! Jules, you have doubtless found a new mistress? "
exclaimed the prefect, laughing. " But was there ever such
inconstancy as yours! "

"It is not in my nature to remain long faithful to any
woman," observed Martignac, who was as vain and con-
ceited as he was really handsome in person and elegant in
manners. " But I was telling you that I have not lately
had time to look over the secret reports from the prefecture
to the Ministry of the Interior, and therefore I am not
entirely acquainted with the object of Lord Leveson's visit
to Paris. An inkling thereof I have gleaned, it is true, from
what has been said in my presence on two or three occa-
sions by the Minister and his confidential secretary."

THE PREFECT AND HIS GUESTS 245

" Well," exclaimed the prefect, who from the first moment
he sat down to table with his friends had thrown off all
official reserve, and who now laughed heartily at the thoughts
which the present discourse had conjured up in his mind,
" with regard to Lord Leveson's visit to Paris, I can safely
say that of all the amusing incidents which ever came to
my knowledge, certain matters involved in this affair are
the most eminently diverting."

" I presume his lordship's visit to our gay capital," said
Jules Martignac, " is in some way or another connected
with the mission of those three young English ladies, —
the Misses Owen, I mean, — who were appointed to proceed
to Italy in order to occupy certain situations about the
person of her Royal Highness the Princess Caroline? "

" That is to say, the wife of the present prince regent of
England," added one of the gentlemen spies.

" Precisely so," continued the prefect. " Well, and then
these three girls, these Misses Owen, fall in with a certain
young gentleman calling himself Jocelyn Loftus; and he,
with more generous candour than astute discretion, tells
them in plain terms that he has embarked in the Quixotic
enterprise of thwarting all their schemes and preventing
them from proceeding to Italy to fulfil their mission."

" The insensate Englishman! " exclaimed Jules Martignac.
" But, after all, whether he had thus revealed his purposes
to the young ladies, or not, would scarcely have signified in
the long run; for the moment he set foot in Paris, every
act and proceeding on his part was sure to become known
to the authorities and be duly chronicled in the Black Books
at the prefecture. Ah! " added the handsome but affected
official, " what a blessing it is to have such a well-ramified
system of police as we have got! "

" But you must observe in this case, Jules," said the
prefect, " that it was not my business to trouble myself
about Mr. Jocelyn Loftus or the Misses Owen unless in
pursuance of the special wish of certain parties in England;
and such wish was speedily intimated to our government.
I need not remind you, my friends, that at the restoration
of his Majesty Louis XVIII to the French throne in April
last, a secret compact was made between this august monarch
and the illustrious prince regent of England, to the effect
that they should mutually forward, advance, and succour

246 THE COURT OF LONDON

each other's interests, aims, and purposes to the utmost
of their power. Hence it followed, as a matter of course,
that whatever project the prince regent of England might
put in force with regard to his wife now in Italy was certain
to be privately aided and abetted by the government of his
Majesty Louis XVIII. Now, when Mr. Jocelyn Loftus,
with more candour than discretion, made known his
chivalrous designs to the three Misses Owen, they at once
wrote off to England for instructions; and the immediate
consequence was a private communication from the prince
regent to our own most gracious sovereign, requesting
that the person calling himself Jocelyn Loftus might be
immediately arrested and detained in some secure place.
As a matter of course, our excellent king, mindful of his
compact with the prince regent, lost no time in complying
with the demand ; and the order to take the necessary steps
in the matter was forthwith sent to me from the palace.
Hereupon, I lost no time in causing the young man passing
under the name of Loftus to be apprehended, on the ground
that he was residing in France with a passport made out in
a false name."

" And did not the police agent take possession of all the
young Englishman's papers at Meurice's Hotel? " inquired
Jules Martignac. " Methinks I heard something of the
sort mentioned at the Ministry of the Interior."

" As a matter of course," replied the prefect; " all his
correspondence was taken possession of and brought hither.
The contents of those letters were not, however, very
important, chiefly tending to show that Mr. Loftus was
engaged to be married to a young lady named Louisa Stanley,
who resides at Canterbury."

" Ah! that's the capital of the beautiful county of Kent,"
exclaimed Jules Martignac. " For you know that I have
visited England? Well, and I have passed a few days in
that fine old city of Canterbury. Its cathedral is sublime.
But pray proceed. What else did the letters and papers
show? "

" That there was a Miss Mary Owen, the youngest sister
of the girls whom we have already been speaking of."

" Well, what of this Mary Owen? "

" Simply that she had run away from home, I believe, or
else deserted her mother and sisters in some peculiar man-

THE PREFECT AND HIS GUESTS 247

ner, and had found a refuge with that same Miss Louisa
Stanley at Canterbury. These were the principal points
developed by the letters and papers seized at Meurice's
Hotel," continued the prefect; " and not knowing how
serviceable they might prove, I at once despatched them
all to his Royal Highness the Prince Regent in Lon-
don."

" But the three Owens who were on their way to Italy,"
inquired Martignac, " have they not continued their jour-
ney? "

" Two of them have," responded the prefect; " and have
joined her Royal Highness the Princess of Wales by this
time. They travelled under the escort of a certain Mrs.
Ranger, who had charge of them."

" But first, your Excellency should recollect," exclaimed
one of the prefect's private secretaries, " that even after
the arrival of the instructions from England to arrest Mr.
Loftus, it was deemed advisable that the three sisters
should remain in Paris a few days, so as to await any fresh
commands from England that might follow after the receipt
of the letters and papers which were sent over to the prince
regent."

" Exactly so," observed the prefect; " and in due course
the Marquis of Leveson came over himself."

" The London papers hinted at the time," remarked one
of the gentlemen spies, " that his lordship left England so1
suddenly to be out of the way while his niece's husband, a
profligate fellow of the name of Dysart, was tried and
hung. The statement was copied into all the French
papers."

" To be sure! " exclaimed the prefect. " It was an
excellent excuse for his lordship's sudden departure from
England and visit to Paris. But I can assure you, from what
I have heard the marquis himself say, that he felt not the
slightest sympathy on account of his niece's husband; and
we know that his lordship really came over to Paris about
this affair of the Owens and Jocelyn Loftus. Well, the day
after his arrival he sent the two eldest young ladies, — Miss
Agatha and Miss Emma, I think their names are, — he
sent them, I say, post-haste forward on their journey to
Italy, along with Mrs. Ranger. But he kept the youngest
of the three girls, whose name is Julia — "

248 THE COURT OF LONDON

" I thought you just now said Mary," observed Jules
Martignac.

" No, no," replied the prefect. " Mary is the youngest of
all, and is living with Miss Louisa Stanley at Canterbury.
It is Julia, the youngest of the three over in France, whom
the marquis kept with him."

" The wicked old fellow! " exclaimed Jules. " But I
have heard that these Owen girls are ravishingly beautiful — "

" True! But you are quite wrong in your present sus-
picions," interrupted the prefect; " for the very same day
that Miss Agatha and Miss Emma departed for Italy, Miss
Julia was consigned a prisoner to the prefecture."

" Ha! ha! capital, was it not? " exclaimed the three
gentlemen spies and the two private secretaries, all rubbing
their hands with the air of men who were relishing an
excellent joke. " Only fancy that sweet pretty girl, Julia
Owen, being locked up in a gloomy room in the prefecture! "

"Indeed! and what was that for?" demanded Jules
Martignac, now completely at fault as to the meaning and
motive of the circumstances just related.

"You must know, in the first place," said one of the
gentlemen spies, with a peculiar look, " that it was entirely
of her own accord."

" And after full deliberation with Lord Leveson," observed
another of the mouchards.

" And it must be borne in mind that the room in which
she is placed," added the third spy, " is next to that of the
handsome young Englishman who chooses to pass under
the very euphonious and romantic name of Jocelyn Loftus."

" By all means tell us about this," exclaimed Jules
Martignac. " It seems to be one of the most thoroughly
romantic affairs I ever heard of."

" Well," said the prefect, now resuming the discourse,
" I must observe, en passant, that the English people,
with the disgusting pride and arrogant self-conceit that is
so natural to them, are exceedingly fond of denouncing the
French as being utterly demoralized; but from the very
incidents of which we are speaking, and a variety of others
which have come to my knowledge, I can assure you my*
candid and honest impression is that the aristocratic and
higher classes of English society are the most depraved,
profligate, and licentious in all the world."

THE PREFECT AND HIS GUESTS 249

" But the affair of this Julia Owen and Jocelyn Loft us? "
exclaimed Jules Martignac, who did not want a lecture
upon morals; " is it so very racy? "

" You shall judge for yourself," replied the prefect. " It
appears that this same young gentleman, whom we shall
still continue to call by his pseudonym of Jocelyn Loftus,
professes a stoical degree of virtue which has naturally
given great offence in certain quarters, where licentiousness
is thereby put to the blush. Now, when the Marquis of
Leveson came over to Paris, it was privately whispered in
his ear by Mrs. Ranger that all the three sisters had become
desperately enamoured of Jocelyn, but that Agatha and
Emma had vainly attempted to thaw his ice-cold heart.
The marquis, having a particular reason for breaking down
all the ridiculous scruples which have taken such a hold
upon Loftus, became much interested in what Mrs. Ranger
told him; and summoning the three sisters, he succeeded
in wheedling out of the two eldest a confession of all the wiles,
manoeuvres, and artifices which they had adopted to ensnare
the object of their passion, while from young Julia's lips he
elicited the avowal that she had not found an opportunity
of trying the effect of her charms, but should rejoice at
being enabled to enter on such a love-campaign. The mind
of the marquis was at once made up, his plans were settled,
and he proceeded to put them into execution. Agatha and
Emma were sent forward with Mrs. Ranger, as I have
already told you, to join the Princess Caroline in Italy;
and the marquis then came to me with a request that Julia
Owen might at once be placed in the next room to Jocelyn
Loftus. As a matter of course, his lordship explained his
reasons for a proceeding which at the first glance struck
even me as extraordinary. He represented how necessary
it was to undermine that stoical virtue which led Jocelyn
Loftus into such Quixotic extremes, and which would
inevitably lead him, when he regained his liberty, not
merely to thwart, but also blazon forth to the whole world
the long-concerted plots and deeply ramified intrigues that
are now in progress relative to the Princess of Wales. It
was quite clear, as the marquis observed, that Jocelyn
knew too much on that point; and the only way to render
him powerless was to detain him in prison, or else drag him
down from the pedestal of his exalted virtue. Now, to keep

250 THE COURT OF LONDON

him for a very long time in custody would be to stand the
risk of incurring great scandal; the thing might get men-
tioned by some opposition member in the Legislative
Chamber, and the enemies of the government would make
much of it. Therefore, as the marquis reasoned, what
scheme could be better than to inveigle the young man
within the circle of those temptations to which he was more
likely to become susceptible in a state of captivity than
when free? ' He must be looked upon as a serpent whose
sting is his virtue/ said the marquis; ' let us rob him of
that sting, and we render him powerless. We may thus
defy him, whereas at present he is dangerous to a degree.'
Thus reasoned the Marquis of Leveson; and I not only
understood his views, but cheerfully consented to assist
them to the utmost of my power. Julia Owen was to be
the temptress to allure the young man from the pinnacle
of his lofty virtue; she was the sorceress whose spells were
to entice him from the pedestal of his exalted chivalry.
The first step in the singular drama was therefore to assign
her to the chamber next to Jocelyn. This was done, and
the girl entered with romantic delight upon the task, all
the details and arrangements of which she promptly planned
and chalked out. Knowing that it was vain to endeavour
to work at once upon his animal passions, she resolved to
appeal to his refined and delicate sentiments. She there-
fore purposed to introduce herself to him in the light of a
heroine, secure his admiration, win his confidence, and thus
establish herself firmly in his favour before she allowed him
to discover who she really was. The charwoman who waits
upon the prisoners in that gallery was secretly ordered by
me to further the designs of Miss Julia to the utmost of her
power. To be brief, a variety of implements were supplied
the young lady, to enable her to excavate an aperture in
the wall, so that she might obtain entrance into Jocelyn's
apartment. She would thus appear before him as his good
genius, the heroine of an adventure promising escape for
himself as well as for her."

" Ah! then she would be revealing herself too abruptly,"
exclaimed Martignac, " and before she was well assured
of obtaining a strong hold on his confidence."

" All this was well weighed, considered, and calculated
beforehand," returned the prefect; " and, as a heroine

THE PREFECT AND HIS GUESTS 251

ought to be a somewhat mysterious character, in order to
inspire a deep interest as well as other engrossing senti-
ments, Miss Julia purposed to conceal her countenance in
the folds of a thick veil, to disguise her voice, and to assume
the sweetly romantic name of Laura Linden. The plan
was altogether well digested. Conceive a heroic young
lady breaking at midnight through the wall into a young
gentleman's chamber, amusing this young gentleman with
some romantic tale to account for her captivity and anxiety
to escape, seeking every little opportunity to play upon his
senses and bewilder him with a strange mystification, then
holding out to him the promise of immediate flight from
dreary prisonage, — conceive all this, I say, and then you
will admit that it must indeed be a heart of stone on which
such seductive influences could fail to make an impression.
And now, Jules," continued the prefect, " and now what
will you think when I tell you that this is the very night on
which Julia Owen and Jocelyn Loftus are thus to meet. Yes,
this very night is the curtain to rise upon the first act of
the well-conceived drama; and indeed/' added the prefect,
as he consulted his watch, " it is probable that they have
already met, for 'tis near one in the morning."

" But they are not really to escape together? " said Jules
Martignac, inquiringly.

" Do you think me mad? " exclaimed the prefect. " No,
no, Jocelyn will remain here as long as his virtue continues
stubborn; but if he yield to the temptations of the siren
Julia, then may he go about his business, and welcome."

" And how is the pretended endeavour to escape to be
contravened? " asked Jules Martignac, delighted with the
whole narrative.

" Not a link in the chain of the proceedings is deficient,"
responded the prefect; " everything is duly weighed,
considered, and prearranged. For instance, the watchman,
as he goes his rounds, will suddenly command the lights to
be extinguished in Jocelyn's chamber. The order will be
given authoritatively and accompanied with menaces;
and therefore the light must be put out. Now, what is
the result? The young gentleman and the young lady are
left together in the dark, and Heaven only knows with
what wiles, seductions, and blandishments the false Laura
Linden will assail her very virtuous companion. At all

252 THE COURT OF LONDON

events, this young man must be something more or less
than human if he resist the combined influences of such
circumstances, temptations, and opportunities."

" I think so, too," observed the under-secretary of state,
in a laconic tone, but with a salacious smacking of the lips.
" And, therefore, you say that if he does really succumb
either this night or on some early occasion — "

" Oh, once let him sink vanquished and overcome into
the arms of Julia Owen," cried the prefect, " and he can no
longer hold up his head as the champion of virtue. Ashamed,
disgraced, and degraded in his own estimation, pulled down
from the pedestal of his austere rectitude and immaculate
chivalry, he will either be glad to conceal his diminished head
in some solitary nook, or else, in an access of despair, will
plunge deeper into the fount of bliss. And this latter theory
is the more probable; for if the wiles, artifices, and seduc-
tions of the siren Julia once triumph, he will henceforth yield
to the current of so irresistible an infatuation and devote
all his thoughts to the beautiful mistress whom he will thus
have gained, neither thinking of interference with the
designs of the prince regent on the one hand, nor remaining
bent upon contracting an unequal marriage with Louisa
Stanley on the other."

" Ah! then there is an objection to this marriage, is
there? " exclaimed Jules Martignac.

" Yes, I believe so," responded the prefect. " But that
appears to be altogether a minor consideration in comparison
with the one grand aim of disarming him as to his inter-
ference with the mission of the Owens."

While the prefect was yet giving utterance to the latter
portion of this sentence, a valet entered the room; and the
moment his master had ceased speaking, the servant ad-
vanced and whispered a few words in his ear.

" Good," said the prefect; then waiting an instant until
the valet had withdrawn, he observed, " Well, my friends,
it is as I had anticipated; for the watchman has just sent
in word that he saw Mr. Loftus examining the window,
and that upon raising his voice to command the lights to
be put out, he beheld the shadow of a female form reflected
upon the opposite wall, as it flitted across the young English-
man's chamber."

" Oh, happy fellow," cried the under-secretary of state,

THE PREFECT AND HIS GUESTS 253

" if he will but avail himself of the happiness within his
reach! "

The door now again opened; but this time it was to usher
in the Marquis of Leveson, who made his appearance in full
evening costume, he having just quitted the mansion of the
British ambassador. As soon as the wonted greetings were
exchanged between himself and the prefect, and when also
the nobleman had been duly presented to the assembled
guests, he glanced significantly at the great police authority
as if to inquire what news he had to impart relative to
the affair that so particularly interested himself.

" We are all friends here, my lord," said the prefect;
" and being all, as it were, officially connected, there are
no secrets between us. My two secretaries are of course
acquainted with all that transpires at the prefecture;
these three gentlemen," he continued, glancing toward the
spies, " hold secret offices of great trust in connection with
the establishment; and that gentleman," added the prefect,
looking toward Jules Martignac, " as the under-secretary
of state for the Home Department enjoys of course a com-
plete insight into everything that regards the police. But
although, my lord, so many persons are thus acquainted
with your special business in Paris and with all that regards
the mission of the young English ladies in whom you are
interested, yet the secret itself is as safe as if it were locked
up only in your own breast; for the police establishment of
this great capital sees but with the same eye, hears with
but one ear, speaks with but one tongue, and thinks with
but one brain. Although consisting of many persons,
therefore, it is one great and indivisible whole, and impos-
sible of proving faithless to itself."

" I thank your Excellency for these explanations and
assurances," replied Lord Leveson; " and I entertain not
the least apprehension for the safety of my secret. Since,
then, we are all acquainted with its nature," he continued,
glancing with an urbane smile around the board, " we
may discourse without reserve thereon."

" Most assuredly," replied the prefect. " And now, my
lord, I have the pleasure to announce to you, from informa-
tion which I received a few moments before your lordship's
arrival, that the grand scheme has reached its crisis, — the
point at which it will either succeed speedily or fail signally."

254 THE COURT OF LONDON

" Ah! " exclaimed the marquis, his countenance lighting
up with joy; " do you mean really to tell me that Julia
Owen is at this moment with your prisoner? This is excel-
lent, especially as I have brought some one with me — "

" Did I not assure your lordship this morning," inter-
rupted the prefect, not heeding the last words of the noble-
man, " that it would be for to-night? "

11 Yes," responded Leveson; " and relying upon the
accuracy of your Excellency's information, I have brought
a certain person with me whom I wish to become a specta-
tress of her beloved Jocelyn in the arms of the seductive
Julia."

" Ah! " ejaculated the prefect; "is it possible that you
have caused Miss Louisa Stanley to come all the way from
England to view her lover's infidelity, — supposing that
such infidelity shall really take place? "

" And wherefore not kill two birds with one stone? "
said the marquis, with a knowing look. " The opportunity
was too good to be lost, and I accordingly availed myself
of it."

" 'Tis an admirable stroke of policy! " exclaimed Jules
Martignac. " Yes, an admirable stroke of policy if your
lordship be indeed anxious to break off the contemplated
match between Louisa Stanley and this Jocelyn. And, by
the bye, since I have heard that this Louisa is so beautiful,"
continued the vain young Frenchman, with a self-sufficient
air, " perhaps your lordship would afford me an opportunity
of making myself agreeable to her; for I should really like
to have an English mistress."

" I am sorry that I cannot gratify you in this respect,"
returned the Marquis of Leveson, smiling; " but the fact
is that Louisa Stanley is such a perfect angel of beauty I
intend to try my own fortune with her first."

" But where is she? " inquired the prefect.

" On leaving the ambassador's just now," responded the
marquis, " I drove around to the hotel where she is staying
with me, and brought her hither in my carriage. She is
now in the anteroom."

" And Mary Owen, who was staying with her at Canter-
bury? " said the prefect.

" Is still remaining there," answered Leveson, " in order
to take care of Louisa's sick aunt during her absence.

THE PREFECT AND HIS GUESTS 255

Mary is harmless enough while thus employed, and while
thus buried in that seclusion. But let us now take a peep
into Jocelyn's chamber," added the marquis, turning his
eyes upon the prefect as he rose from his seat.

" I am at your service, my lord," said that functionary.
" Gentlemen, you must excuse us for a few minutes. We
cannot take so large a party with us, especially as it appears
there is a young lady to accompany us."

The Marquis of Leveson and the prefect, now quitting
the saloon together, passed into the anteroom where Louisa
Stanley was waiting. Her form was enveloped in an ample
cloak; and a large bonnet, of the Swiss shepherdess-hat
style then in vogue, shaded her features. But at the first
glance which the prefect threw upon her he was indeed
struck by the extraordinary beauty of her countenance,
although the pallor of grief and the restless expression of
acute suspense were upon every feature. Nor less was he
enabled to remark that the very drapery which concealed
her figure also developed its matchless symmetry; and
beautiful as the prefect had fancied Julia Owen to be when
he saw her on the day she was introduced to the prefecture,
he was now instantaneously struck with the fact that her
charms were thrown completely into the shade when com-
pared with the transcendent loveliness of Louisa Stanley.
The thought therefore traversed the prefect's brain that
it would really, after all, be but a little matter of wonder
if the mere image of the pure-minded, innocent, and angelic
Louisa should preserve Jocelyn's fidelity immaculate and
intact against all the seductive wiles and wanton fascinations
of Julia Owen.

" This gentleman, Miss Stanley," said the Marquis of
Leveson, introducing the French official to the young lady,
" is his Excellency the Prefect of Police; and he will
now explain to you, painful though the subject must be,
that the individual whom you have known and unfortunately
learned to love as Jocelyn Loftus has been incarcerated in
the prefecture on account of his grievous immoralities and
wild excesses."

" Oh, heavens, if this be indeed true! " exclaimed Louisa,
clasping her hands and bursting into tears; but almost
instantly wiping away those crystal drops of bitter, bitter
anguish, and with a sudden resumption of an air of maiden

256 THE COURT OF LONDON

dignity, she said, in a tone of forced calmness, " But I am
nerved to hear the worst, after all the terrible things that
your lordship, with so much disinterested and indeed paternal
kindness, has told me."

While giving utterance to this latter portion of her sen-
tence, with a frank and artless confidence in what she believed
to be the good feeling of the Marquis of Leveson, the maiden
fixed her blue eyes mournfully upon him; and then she
turned those plaintive regards upon the prefect, with a
look that seemed to implore him to state all he knew at
once with as much brevity as possible.

" Young lady," said the prefect, now also thinking it
right to play the paternal, and therefore assuming an air
and a tone which seemed to imply that he was performing
a very painful task and accomplishing a most disagreeable
duty, " young lady," he repeated, " it is better that you
should hear at once the real character of him who has gained
your affections than that you should make so important a
discovery when it has become too late to retreat from an
unfortunate marriage. The plain truth is, that you have
been wooed and your heart has been won by a mere adven-
turer living under a feigned name, and pursuing a career
of reckless extravagance, deep dissipation, and inveterate
profligacy."

" O God! have mercy upon me! " murmured the unhappy
Louisa; and then she compressed her lips forcibly to keep
back the scream that rose up from her anguished heart to
the very tip of her tongue. " But pray go on, sir, go on,"
she cried, with nervous trepidation, as she once more
wrestled successfully against the harrowing poignancy of
her feelings, or, rather, fortified herself with the unnatural
composure of despair.

" It is too true, then, Miss Stanley," said the prefect,
encouraged by the significant signs and nods which the
marquis gave him, unperceived by the unfortunate girl
whom the two wretches were thus basely torturing, " it
is too true that Jocelyn Loftus has conducted himself in
such a manner since his arrival in Paris as to scandalize
society; and the strong arm of the law has been compelled
to interfere to punish him for his excesses. Not that he
has committed any positive crime; but his debaucheries,
his seductions, and his moral offences have brought dishonour

THE PREFECT AND HIS GUESTS 257

on the name of Englishmen. Therefore, availing myself
of the fact that he was sojourning in France under a false
name, — a circumstance rendering him amenable to the
law, — I have been compelled, in my capacity as guardian
of the public morals, to incarcerate him within these walls.7'

" I dare not disbelieve you, sir, I cannot doubt your
word," said Louisa, gazing vacantly around, as if her senses
were abandoning her; " but yet it appears to me so impos-
sible, indeed, it looks so like a monstrous dream — "

" Alas! my dear young lady," said Lord Leveson, as he
took her hand with much apparent kindness, " you perceive
that it is but too true. Besides which, so high a functionary
and so honourable a man as the prefect of police would not
possibly be guilty of an injustice, on the one hand, toward
the person calling himself Jocelyn Loftus, nor, on the other
hand, would he so uselessly deceive or so wantonly afflict
a young damsel like you."

u Assuredly not," exclaimed the prefect. " But I forgive
these doubts, this uncertainty, this incredulity, which
Miss Stanley displays. They are the evidences of that
generous confidence and sublime trust which the loving heart
naturally reposes in the object of its affections. But as it
is my painful duty to put an end to all your doubts, come
hither, young lady, come hither."

Thus speaking, the prefect opened a side door, and led
the way into a little cabinet, or office, where a lamp was
burning on a table. And upon this same table lay an
enormous book with a black cover. It was thicker and larger
than the thickest and largest Bible ever used in a Protestant
church; and upon the back of the binding, which was at
least a foot wide, were stamped, in dingy gold letters, these
words, " Le Livre Noir; " which, being translated into
English, mean, " The Black Book."

Opening this huge volume, and hastily turning over the
leaves, which were full of manuscript entries in as many
different styles of writing as it is possible to conceive, the
prefect paused at a particular page, ran his finger down a
certain column, stopped at a special entry, and said, " Be-
hold, Miss Stanley, the record of the arrest."

Louisa threw her shuddering looks upon the ominous page,
and hastily scanned the particular lines which were pointed
out to her. Those lines comprised an entry which, if trans-

258 THE COURT OF LONDON

lated into English, would read as follows: " An Englishman;
aged about three and twenty; arrested for having his
passport made out in the false name of Jocelyn Loftus;
his real name is known to the prefect, but for special reasons
is not mentioned here. See, however, Prefect's Private
Minute Book, Folio 2011, second column, fifteenth line
from the top."

" I wish to see no more," murmured the unhappy Louisa,
in a dying tone. " I have already seen too much."

" And yet, young lady," said the marquis, " for your own
complete satisfaction you will consent to behold the crowning
proof of your false lover's wickedness and depravity, —
that crowning proof which I have brought you hither at
this late hour to witness. By your Excellency's permission,"
continued the marquis, turning toward the prefect, " we
will now repair — "

" I understand," interrupted the prefect. " Come with me."

Thus speaking, he led the way from the little cabinet, the
door of which he carefully locked behind him; then, passing
out of the anteroom, he took a lamp in his hand and con-
ducted the marquis and Louisa up a staircase, at the summit
of which there was a massive door. Having noiselessly
and cautiously opened this door by means of a key which
he had with him, he led the way down a long, gloomy
passage containing a row of doors, at the last but one of
which he stopped short.

" Now follow me with the utmost caution and on tiptoe/'
he said, speaking in a low whisper to the marquis and
Louisa; then, having opened the door with an evident desire
to avoid the chance of even a hinge creaking, he deposited
the lamp in a niche in the passage, and stole into the chamber.

Louisa Stanley now hung back, and staggered against
the wall, as if a faintness was coming over her; for shocked,
afflicted, and also indignant as she was at the thought of
her lover's profligacy and perfidy, her pure soul nevertheless
revolted from the idea of becoming a witness of any proof
of his guilt.

" Go on, young lady, go on," whispered the Marquis of
Leveson, in a hurried tone; " you must see out this matter
to the end, and sustain your courage until the very last."

Startled into a feverish excitement rather than inspired
with any real feeling of curiosity, Louisa Stanley passed

THE PREFECT AND HIS GUESTS 259

into the chamber, whither, however, the marquis did not
follow her. But he remained upon the threshold, as if
contented to hear the report which might presently be
made to him, instead of witnessing with his own eyes the
scene itself.

Noiselessly and rapidly did Louisa glide into that chamber;
but scarcely had she advanced half a dozen paces, when
through the gloom which prevailed she beheld a light shining
dimly in, as it were, from the depths of some recess. At
this moment the prefect took her by the hand, and hurried
her forward in the direction where that light seemed to be
burning. A few paces more, and Louisa now saw that this
light was really in an adjacent chamber, whence it emanated
through an aperture in the partition wall.

Close up to this opening did the prefect hurry the affrighted
maiden, for affrighted she really was at an appearance of
so sinister a nature, inasmuch as it really seemed at the
moment as if through the vista of gloom her eyes were
resting upon a light coming from a vaulted sepulchre.
But at the same instant that this thought traversed her
imagination, a well-known voice struck upon her ear, —
ay, struck upon her brain, vibrating down every chord that
led even unto her heart's core; and this voice said, in a tone
of impassioned remonstrance, " Oh, you will drive me mad,
you will drive me mad! "

A shriek rose to the very margin of Louisa's lips, even as
a fountain, when disturbed at its depths, bubbles up to the
very brim. But the sound was instantaneously stifled and
subdued before it burst forth; for an overwhelming sense
of utter misery fell crushingly upon the maiden, like aiv
awful consternation, as she heard the melodious tones of a
female voice replying, with the fervour of passion, " Oh,
Jocelyn, dear Jocelyn, thou knowest that I love thee! "

Louisa heard no more. The consternation which stifled
her scream struck another blow and deprived her of con-
sciousness, so that she reeled half-around and fell heavily
upon the floor.

" Good heavens! " exclaimed Jocelyn, from the inner
apartment, " what sound was that? " and seizing the light
from the table, he sprang toward the aperture.

Thrusting the lamp to the entire length of his arm through
the opening, its rays fell full upon the countenance of the

260 THE COURT OF LONDON

damsel, whom the prefect was now hurriedly raising from the
floor. But, oh, what words can depict the hurricane of amaze-
ment and the tornado of agonizing thoughts and wildering
ideas which swept, all in a moment, like a flight of barbed
arrows, through Jocelyn's brain, when the glare of that lamp
fell upon the pale, inanimate, but ever lovely countenance
of his own Louisa?

A cry of rage, a yell of madness burst furiously from him;
but, quick as thought, the prefect bore the senseless maiden
from the room, the door of which was immediately closed.
In the frenzied excitement to which he was now a prey,
Jocelyn dropped the lamp from his hand; and it was instan-
taneously extinguished as it fell upon the floor of the
adjacent chamber, into which he had thrust it through the
aperture.

" Heavens! what is the matter? " exclaimed Julia Owen,
startled and affrighted by the suddenness of the scene
which thus terminated all in a moment in utter darkness.

" Oh, wretch, profligate, demoness that thou art! "
cried Jocelyn, in a voice indicative of a rending anguish;
" thou hast ruined me in the eyes of my beloved! "

And as the last word thrilled from his lips with all the
wildness of delirium, he fell heavily upon the floor.

" Jocelyn, Jocelyn, speak to me, speak to me! " shrieked
Julia Owen, a mortal terror now seizing upon her, for this
scene was dreadful in the depth of that pitchy darkness.
" Good heavens! he does not answer me! " Then groping
her way to the spot where he had fallen in the alcove whence
the bed, it will be remembered, was drawn out, she stooped
down and placed her hand upon his face.

His features were motionless, though bathed in those
cold damps that send a chill through the warm living flesh
that comes in contact with them; and her terror now
increasing almost to an agony, she placed her ear to his lips.
But she could catch the sound of neither breathing nor
gasping; and while her brain reeled and she felt as if she
were going mad, she placed her hand upon his heart. It
throbbed not, no pulsation could she feel, and with a loud
cry that rang forth thrillingly and wild upon the night air,
she said, " He is dead, he is dead! My God! 'tis I whose
wickedness has killed him. O God! O God! " and then
all consciousness abandoned her.

CHAPTER XXII

THE HANGMAN IN HIS GLOEY AGAIN

IT was about ten o'clock in the morning; and Mr. Daniel
Coffin, having disposed of the beards of all his customers,
proceeded to scrape off his own. Seldom was the ludicrous
more singularly blended with the ferocious than in the
expression of that man's countenance, as he stood before
the glass making those grimaces which usually accompany
the progress of the razor over the parts whence the capillary
stubble is to be removed. Having shaved himself as closely
and neatly as he could, the Hangman ascended to his bed-
chamber, where he proceeded to dress himself in his Sunday's
apparel; and his toilet being completed, he went down
again to his parlour, where he ordered Sally Melmoth to
give him a dram of brandy, " to keep the cold out of his
stomach."

" And where are you off to so smart this morning? " she
inquired, as she handed him the liquor.

" Ay, where indeed? " asked her brother Dick.

" Well, you'll be surprised, perhaps, when I tell you,"
returned Coffin; then, looking hastily around, and observing
that Jack the Foundling was not in the room at the moment,
he said, in a low voice, " I am going to call on our friend,
Mr. Larry Sampson."

" Larry Sampson! " ejaculated the brother and sister,
with looks of amazement. " What on earth can you want
with him? "

" Well, I suppose you are not afraid of my going to his
place," observed the Hangman, with a grim smile of mingled
cunning and ferocious satisfaction; " it's no longer the
lion's den into which a fellow situated as I was didn't dare
poke 'his head; and though Larry himself was for a short

261

262 THE COURT OF LONDON

time a lion in my path, yet he has lost his claws and his
teeth now so far as I am concerned. He can't bite or yet
scratch. The royal pardon," added Coffin, tapping his
pocket significantly, " has made me proof against all dangers
in that quarter."

" Of course, we know that," observed Sally Melmoth.
" But why go near such a person at all? The very look of
him must be odious, after all you suffered on his account,
playing at hide-and-seek as you was, and all the latter part
of the time not daring to go to your old haunts either at
the Folly Bridges, or Polly Scratchem's, or any of the
flash cribs, because we got the information that they were
all being watched by Larry's men."

" Well, well, what's the use of recapitulating all these
things that we know so thoroughly? " cried the Hangman.
" The fact is, Larry got scent, somehow or another, of my
being alive and kicking; and, by jingo! now that the
thought strikes me," ejaculated the man, his countenance
suddenly assuming a look terribly ferocious, " I do really
believe that I can guess who it was that gave Larry a hint
of my having escaped the Thames and being still in the
land of the living."

" Ah! who do you think? " exclaimed Dick Melmoth.

" Not the Foundling, eh? " said Sally.

" Not at all," answered Coffin. " I know poor Jack is
staunch. But who was the first person that I went to after
leaving Beechey Manor? "

" Taggarty, to be sure! " cried both brother and sister,
as it were, in the same breath.

" Ay, that's it," said Coffin, with a look gloomily ominous.
"Don't you recollect the fellow wouldn't either have me
in his house to live a short while, nor would he lend a hand
in putting Larry quietly and comfortably out of the way
when there was such a capital opportunity. Besides, the
very fact that Larry was there that night —

" Yes, but that was about Jack the Foundling," observed
Dick Melmoth.

" Ah! but when once a fellow gets any way in league or
connection with a Bow Street runner," exclaimed the
Hangman, dogmatically, " you never can tell what he
may be enticed into. At all events, it's very certain," he
continued, " that from the moment I went and showed

THE HANGMAN IN HIS GLORY AGAIN 263

myself at Taggarty's, all the flash cribs and boozing-kens
were closely watched by Larry's spies."

" To be sure! The information was deuced soon passed
around to all the knowing ones," observed Dick Melmoth,
" and so we lost no time in putting you up to what was
going on. Why, there was Joe Parkes's on Saffron Hill,
Sharp Mawley's over in the Mint, Meg Blowen's in the
Almonry, Polly Scratchem's down in Whitechapel, and
Bencull's crib in Jacob's Island, — they were all close
watched, day and night, without ceasing."

" And devilish lucky it was, then, that I hadn't gone to
either," said Daniel Coffin, " as was my original intention.
But by going and staying first with Old Jeremy Humpage
in Whitechapel, then with the Swag Chovey Bloak in St.
George's Fields, I managed to escape all Mr. Sampson's
devices till the very day that Dysart was to be hung and I
was wanted again at the Old Bailey. Come, give me another
glass of lush," he exclaimed, with a chuckle that sounded
like the subdued growl of a hyena; " for, after all, I like
talking of these things when they are all past and gone and
the danger's over."

" And so you really do suspect Taggarty? " said Sally
Melmoth, as she refilled the Hangman's glass.

" Well, I don't see how the devil I can help suspecting
him," returned Coffin. " The idea flashed to my mind all
in a moment; but it at once took a deep root there, and
now let me tell you that if I was to think over it a hundred
years, I couldn't be more convinced than I am at this instant
that it was Taggarty who must have peached."

" But what are you going to Larry Sampson's for this
morning? " asked his mistress.

" Why, there's five or six fellows to be tucked up down in
the country," answered the Hangman, with a sinister leer;
" and I was going to ask Larry just to drop a note to the
sheriffs of those counties and recommend me as a gentleman
which does his business in a neat, agreeable, and workman-
like manner in the hanging line," and he gave another low,
chuckling laugh the mirth of which was as pleasant as that
of a hyena.

" But you don't want such country custom, do you? "
asked Sally, in surprise.

" No such thing," returned Coffin; " but what I do want

264 THE COURT OF LONDON

is an excuse to have a chat with Larry Sampson. I dare
say he'll let bygones be bygones and talk pleasant enough
when he sees that I am civil on my side. Larry isn't a fellow
to bear grudges; but I am, though, desperately, infernally,"
he added, with terrible emphasis.

" And what do you want to talk to him about? " asked
Sally, now questioning the Hangman with more timidity
than at first, for his temper appeared to be lowering. " But
perhaps you hope to be able to worm out some secrets from
Larry Sampson? "

" A little in that way," responded the Hangman, with a
grim smile, which reassured his mistress and her brother
as to the condescending and communicative humour he
was in. " What I chiefly want to see is whether Larry will
speak to me about Jack the Foundling at all. For don't
you see that it was so odd he should get all that information
from Taggarty, drop so many hints about the lad's probably
being the son of well-to-do parents, and then suddenly
take no more notice of the matter than if he had never
made any such inquiries at all? So I mean to try and draw
Master Larry out in that respect."

" And how shall you do it? " inquired Dick Melmoth.

" Don't you see, I've got my excuse all ready cut and
dried for Larry," continued the Hangman; " and I shall tell
him that the reason I want to get these country execution
jobs is to have an opportunity of letting the Foundling try
his hand at tucking the chaps up, as I shall say that I mean
to make a Jack Ketch of him. So now don't you see that
if there is any truth at all in the idea of the Foundling belong-
ing to a respectable family, Larry will deuced soon be
horrified at the idea of the young fellow taking to the
gallows functions; and he'll tell me to wait awhile or
think better of it, or something of that sort; and if
he does this, then we shall really know that he didn't
make all those inquiries about the lad Jack for nothing at
all."

:i Well, really, Daniel," said his mistress, coaxingly,
" I always knew you was a wide-awake fellow, but I didn't
give you credit for so much cunning as all this."

" Nor I," observed Dick Melmoth; " and I do believe
you'll succeed in getting something out of Larry, after
all."

THE HANGMAN IN HIS GLORY AGAIN 265

" And if you do find that Jack is the son of respectable
parents," observed Sal, " you'll be able to make a pretty
penny of the business, eh? "

" Well, we shall see," and the Hangman was about to
sally forth, when suddenly recollecting something, he felt
the pockets of his coat, and then exclaimed, " By Satan!
I was going without my tools, and that's a thing I don't
often do, seeing that they very frequently come into use at
a moment when it's least expected that they'll be wanted
at all."

Dick Melmoth hastened to open a cupboard, whence he
took forth a bunch of skeleton keys, which he wrapped up
in paper so as to prevent them from jingling. He next
produced from the same place a small " jimmy," or crowbar,
about a foot and a half long, and about the thickness of
the thumb, but of the strongest wrought iron, and admirably
shaped for burglarious purposes. He then drew forth a small
tin box an inch and a half in diameter, and filled with wax,
which was used to take the impression of a key should such
process be required for ulterior purposes. Lastly, Dick
Melmoth produced a couple of knitting-needles, pointed
in a particular manner, and used for cutting panes of glass
in the same way as a glazier's diamond.

All the articles just detailed did Mr. Daniel Coffin secure
about his person; and as he wore a sort of shooting-coat,
the crowbar lay easily enough lengthwise at the bottom
of one of his capacious pockets. But it must not be sup-
posed that the Hangman had any special purpose now in
view in thus arming himself with the implements of his
secret profession. The fact was that he seldom if ever
stirred abroad without those little articles, which
might at any moment come unexpectedly handy; and
as habit is second nature, he positively would not have
felt comfortable had he omitted his usual practice in this
respect.

Sallying forth accordingly, with the royal pardon in one
of his pockets and the implements of burglary distributed
about in all the others, Mr. Daniel Coffin took his way to
Long Acre. On knocking at the door of Larry Sampson's
house, his summons was answered by Dame Margery, the
officer's housekeeper, to whom the person of the Hangman
was not known. Not that she was, however, at all prepos-

266 THE COURT OF LONDON

sessed in his favour; for, as the reader is already aware,
he had a most hangdog look about him, even when attired
in his best apparel.

" Is Mr. Sampson at home? " he asked.

" No, he is not," responded Dame Margery, eying him
askance, and keeping the door half-closed.

" But I want to see him very particularly," said the
Hangman. " Indeed, it's about professional business," he
added, with a significant look.

" Then who are you? " inquired the woman.

" Lord bless you! " returned the Hangman, " my functions
are up there in the Old Bailey," and as he spoke, with a
still deeper significancy of look, he jerked his thumb over
his left shoulder in the direction of the locality which he
had named.

Now it instantaneously struck Dame Margery that the
fellow must be a turnkey from Newgate; and, with this
belief, she had no longer any hesitation in admitting him
into the house. She accordingly requested him to walk
in and wait a short time, observing that it was more than
probable that Mr. Sampson would not be long before he
returned. Daniel Coffin at once accepted the invitation,
and was forthwith conducted into the breakfast-parlour,
where Dame Margery left him. But after waiting upwards
of three-quarters of an hour, the Hangman got tired of
remaining there doing nothing; and he thought that he
might as well repair to the nearest public-house and regale
himself until Mr. Sampson should return. He accordingly
issued forth from the parlour with the view of telling the
housekeeper whither he was going, and requesting that a
message be sent to inform him when her master came back;
but though he coughed, hemmed, and stamped with his
foot, in order to attract the attention of Dame Margery, no
response was given to his summons. Fancying she might
be up-stairs, he coolly and quietly ascended to the story
above; for Mr. Daniel Coffin was not accustomed to be over-
nice or delicate in the observance of ceremony and the
punctilios of etiquette.

" Hem! hah! I say, now then! Will nobody answer? "
he exclaimed, on reaching the landing of the first floor;
but all was silent, — for the very simple reason that Dame
Margery was down in the kitchen attending to her culinary

THE HANGMAN IN HIS GLORY AGAIN 267

duties, and being rather deaf, she heard not the Hangman's
voice.

As for the servant of all work, she had gone out upon an
errand; and thus did it happen that no attention was paid
to Mr. Coffin.

" Well, I suppose the place is deserted," he muttered to
himself, in that low, growling tone which was peculiar to
him when vexed or annoyed; and opening the door that
was nearest, he looked in and perceived that it was a hand-
somely furnished drawing-room. " Upon my word, Mr.
Sampson is quite a gentleman. Ah! he must have made a
good thing of his business — no doubt of it!" added the
Hangman, as he glanced around the well-appointed apart-
ment. Then stepping forth upon the landing again, he
closed the door behind him. " I wonder what this room is,"
he now said, as he grasped the handle of another door; but
it was locked.

Obedient to some strange and scarcely accountable
impulse, Daniel Coffin stooped down to peep through the
keyhole; but he found it impervious to his view, being closed
on the inner side, and he muttered to himself, " Well,
this is a peculiar lock, made on purpose to prevent anybody
from looking through it."

Such a circumstance was quite enough to arouse the
curiosity of the Hangman; and without any more ado he
at once took forth his skeleton keys, and thrust one of
them into the lock, in which it turned without difficulty.
The door was opened accordingly, and Coffin entered the
apartment.

And now it would be difficult to describe this individual's
amazement at the first glance which he cast around the
room; for the walls were studded with innumerable pegs,
to which hung an infinite assortment of male and female
dresses. These were evidently intended and used as dis-
guises; and as the Hangman contemplated this singular
wardrobe with a closer scrutiny, he observed that it con-
tained the specimen of almost every costume then existing
in England. There was even the court dress, as well as the
soldier's uniform; the fashionable suit of a West End dandy
was side by side with the lace-bedizened livery of a domestic
servant. The complete costume of a sportsman was sus-
pended next to the ragged garb of a beggar; the dress of

268 THE COURT OF LONDON

a stone-mason was in contrast with that of a sweep. The
characteristic apparel of a parish beadle hung next to the
mud-besmeared garb of a peasant ; and the rough dress of a
sailor was close to the modest uniform of a postman. In
fine, the dresses of all grades and classes, as well as of both
sexes, were comprised in this perfect museum of costume;
and it was quite clear that the individual possessing such
an extraordinary collection could at any moment transform
himself into the semblance of a peer or a peasant, a parson
or a postman, a sportsman or a soldier, a tailor or a tinker,
a gentleman or a gipsy, a mariner or a pickpocket, a rollick-
ing highwayman or a mean petty thief, a substantial farmer
or a needy mendicant, a costermonger or a ballad singer,
a fortune-teller or a match- woman, a fish-fag or a gipsy r
or, in fine, any member of any grade, class, or section of
society.

But these transformations were not to be made only by
means of the various dresses suspended around; other
auxiliaries and accessories were likewise at hand in this
apartment. Thus, upon a long shelf stood a row of barber's
blocks, each surmounted with a wig; and as a matter of
course these wigs were of different colours, shapes, and
qualities, affording specimens of all the varieties of the
peruke species. Then, on another shelf, there were false
whiskers, mustachios, and beards, — yes, and even false
eyebrows; and on a third shelf were pots of rouge, hair-
powder, paints, colours, and dyes of all shades, degrees,
and descriptions.

There was one more feature of interest in this room
which came in for a due share of the Hangman's attention;
and this was an enormous book, as large as a church Bible,
and the contents of which were divided into three specific
departments. The first was a list of all the bad characters,
male and female, infesting the metropolis; and against
every name was affixed the date of its entry in that book,
thereby showing how long each individual in the category
had been under the surveillance of Mr. Lawrence Sampson.
The second compartment contained a list of all the flash
cribs, boozing-kens, fence-shops, low lodging-houses, and
places of vile resort in which the metropolis abounded;
and so complete was the information given by this list, that
to every den thus specified was added the name of the

THE HANGMAN IN HIS GLORY AGAIN 269

person keeping it, followed by memoranda of what sort of
characters frequented it, the sums paid for accommodation
or refreshment, and all other particulars calculated to be of
service to a Bow Street officer. The third compartment
of this extraordinary book consisted of a journal, or diary,
in which Mr. Lawrence Sampson was wont to enter minutes
of his proceedings, remarkable incidents, gleanings and
experiences, personal adventures, or any other matters
worth recording in connection with his avocations.

The reader will naturally suppose that on discovering
this book of mysteries the curiosity of the Hangman was
instantaneously excited to ascertain first of all whether his
own name figured in the category of bad characters; and
on turning to the proper page and column, according to the
alphabetical arrangement of the entries, he not only found
the name of Daniel Coffin duly chronicled, but also the
startling fact, as proved by the date annexed, that Mr.
Lawrence Sampson had been aware of his real character for
some years past.

As a matter of course, all the low cribs and boozing-kens,
as well as all other vile haunts and infamous receptacles
throughout the metropolis, were chronicled in the second
compartment. But as the reader may perhaps be curious
to learn the manner in which Mr. Sampson kept his ledger
of demoralization, debauchery, poverty, mendicity, and
crime, we will quote a few miscellaneous extracts from this
division of the great book:

" Rose and Crown, Church Lane, St. Giles's. Weekly
club held here; chiefly of street-hawkers, costermongers,
labourers, chimney-sweepers, and beggars; the women
frequenting this place are nearly all Irish. A young fighting
fellow in a flannel jacket (name forgotten) generally presides;
always has a plate before him containing the subscription-
money to pay for the gin, beer, and tobacco. Sometimes
the company amuse themselves by dancing reels; or else
a fellow named Garry, formerly in the 18th Hussars, gives an
exhibition of the shillalah dance. The landlord's name is —

" Sidney Smith, Dock Street, Whitechapel. Evening
concerts; dreadful low class of women, always on the look-
out for sailors flush of cash. Dancing as well as music;
each person who dances pays twopence for the benefit of
the musician.

270 THE COURT OF LONDON

" The Black Bull, Windmill Street, Haymarket. Music
and dancing at this place; singing to a piano accompani-
ment. Most of the men frequenting this house are cross-
coves, thimblemen, or swell-mobsmen; the females are
women of the town. A great many juveniles visit this
house, young thieves with their girls. The waiter is a comic
fellow, sings comic songs, is on good terms with everybody,
and sips of everybody's brandy and water with the most
condescending friendship; always calling out for ' ladies
and gentlemen to give their orders.' The songs sung at
this place are not indecent; mostly humourous. One of
the most favourite flash songs begins in this way:

" « A cross-cove is in the street for me,
And I a poor girl of a low degree ;
If I was as rich as I am poor,
Ye never should go on the cross no more.

CHORUS
" < He's a right down chap, a chickle leary chap, and a loving cove 1 *

" Penny Theatre, Shorts' Gardens. Frequented by boys,
girls, and all kinds of juvenile thieves and prostitutes;
always dreadful bad language before the curtain draws up.
The last night I was there saw a drunken combat as
an interlude between ' George Barnwell ' and a scene from
the ' Beggar's Opera.' Performers about ten in number;
most of them go about attending fairs and shows in the
season.

" Red House in the Mint. Two people sleep in each bed,
threepence a night. The grossest scenes of immorality
constantly occurring in this place.

" The Mogul, Drury Lane. Large room holding several
hundred persons; concerts and performances every night.
Frequented by all kinds of people; great numbers of disso-
lute livery servants meet here, also young apprentices and
their girls. The landlord keeps it as respectable as he possibly
can.

" Thompson's Lodging-houses, Castle Street, Long Acre,
Nos. 23, 24, 25. Make up between sixty and seventy beds
between them. Thompson has similar houses over in Mint
Street; most detestable places, frequented by the worst of

THE HANGMAN IN HIS GLORY AGAIN 271

characters. Every feeling of decency totally lost sight of,
persons of both sexes and all ages sleeping promiscuously;
grown-up brothers and sisters thus sleep together.

" Southgate's Lodging-houses are in Mitre Court, St.
John's Street; New Court, Cow Cross, Smithfield; Turn-
mill Street, Cler ken well; and on Saffron Hill; altogether
making up three hundred beds every night.

" Grout's Lodging-houses in St. Giles's are filled with low
truckle-beds, supplied with a straw mattress, two coarse
sheets, and an old rug. Here the poor but honest labouring
man is in nightly company with the professional thief;
while perhaps his wife and grown-up daughters are com-
pelled to herd with the vilest prostitutes. As a matter of
course, the people frequenting these lodging-houses consist
of various descriptions, and each description may again
be subdivided into various classes. It is a most truthful
remark which I have heard, that ' the miscroscope shows the
subdivision of atoms, and a minute inquiry into various
classes subdivides society into unimagined grades.'

"No. — , Wentworth Street, Whitechapel, is a kinchin-
ken. The fellow who keeps it is called the kidsman; he
boards and lodges young boys, training them up to be
thieves. Always has at least twenty boys in his establish-
ment; the young ones are instructed by the elder, and are
never allowed to go out before they are quite perfect."

These and numerous other entries, especially those
regarding the Hangman's favourite haunts, met his view;
nor did he fail to observe that Taggarty's shop on Mutton
Hill was mentioned in the category as a place where cheeses,
flitches of bacon, bladders of lard, and all kinds of chandlery
were purchased " without any questions being asked."
But no words can describe the amazement, the consterna-
tion, and even the stupefaction which seized upon Daniel
Coffin when on searching for the entry relative to Bencull's
Dark Crib in Jacob's Island, he found the following memoran-
dum appended: " See my journal, Wednesday, Sept. 19,
1814, for the account of how I visited this place disguised
as a knife-grinder, and how I was thrown into the black ditch,
escaping with my life in a manner truly miraculous."

Yes, stupefied indeed was the Hangman as these words
met his view. All his thoughts were suddenly congealed,
all his ideas were frozen in a moment. But when he some-

272 THE COURT OF LONDON

what recovered himself, and his reflections once more
flowed on in their proper channel, mystery after mystery
was cleared up relative to past incidents, and truth after
truth revealed itself to his comprehension. Yes, for when
he glanced around and beheld all those varied and admirably
contrived disguises, he was no longer at a loss to understand
how the whole plot relative to the burglary at Mrs. Owen's
had been discovered by Larry Sampson; for that the knife-
grinder and the officer were identical was a fact now placed
beyond all possibility of doubt; and what, then, was more
probable but that the country bumpkin in the tap-room
of the King's Arms at Richmond was also the ubiquitous
and protean Lawrence Sampson?

But while he was still pursuing his hurried and startling
reflections in this manner, Daniel Coffin hastened to turn
to the third compartment of the great book; and there,
sure enough, he discovered a detailed account of all the
officer's proceedings while engaged in prosecuting his
inquiries and researches into the outrage offered to the
prince regent and the Marquis of Leveson, as detailed in
earlier chapters of our narrative. A further investigation
into Mr. Sampson's diary showed Daniel Coffin that Taggarty
had not betrayed him to the officer, but that the seeming
beggar-woman who had so importunately solicited alms
of him as he issued from Taggarty's house on the night in
question was in reality Lawrence Sampson. Other facts
did the Hangman also ascertain concerning matters that
either interested himself or those persons with whom he
was connected; but we shall not pause to enter into minuter
details now. Suffice it to say, that without for an instant
recollecting the possibility, or indeed the probability, of
being interrupted while prying into the mysteries of the
bulky volume, he continued to study its contents with the
deepest attention; and the more profoundly he examined
into it, the more was he astonished and bewildered at the
extraordinary mass of information which Lawrence Samp-
son had acquired relative to all the bad characters and flash
houses in London. Nor less was the Hangman astounded
at the remarkable perseverance, the unflinching dauntless-
ness, the exquisite skill, and the reckless indifference to
danger which characterized the Bow Street officer, and
which qualities were made apparent enough by the various

THE HANGMAN IN HIS GLORY AGAIN 273

adventures, enterprises, and proceedings chronicled in the
diary.

We must, however, leave Daniel Coffin for a few minutes
to peruse the entries chiefly regarding himself or his com-
panions in iniquity, while we proceed to furnish our readers
with a few specimens of those parts of Mr. Sampson's journal
which may be termed his comments or experiences. And
therefore, without further preface, we quote the following
extracts :

" Parliament being over, most of the beggars are going
out of town to make the round of the country-seats of the
nobility and gentry. A great many of them are dressed
like old soldiers or sailors; and they are all well provided
with lists of those houses and estates where military or
naval officers dwell. Be it observed that before the beggars
go out into the country upon these expeditions, they meet
at certain cadgers'-haunts, low lodging-houses, or boozing-
kens in London, and exchange information as to what
country-seats are good to call at. Because as the same
parties cannot call twice at the same place during the
season, they lose nothing by giving each other such infor-
mation. In fact, it is a constant practice with beggars to
compare notes in this manner. When once out in the country
in autumn, they remain out while the hareskin time is on;
because while buying and selling hareskins they are able
to pass away a great quantity of bad money.

" Women hire infants for fourpence or sixpence a day
each, and make at least five shillings a day by carrying them
about, — particularly if a woman hires two children at
the same time and represents them as twins.

" There are some beggars who know every good house
in the country. Some who go the highfly, or play the part
of broken-down gentlemen, manage to make ten or fifteen
pounds a week. Sometimes they take drawings with
them, which they present to the ladies whom they see at
parlour windows, or walking in gardens, or on lawns, at
country-seats, leaving the reward to their generosity.
Sometimes they bribe gentlemen's servants to take in their
begging letters, and just throw in any little word of com-
miseration that may assist their case. Just the opposite of
these are the beggars that go upon the shallow, — that is,
half-naked. They obtain from compassionate persons

274 THE COURT OF LONDON

quantities of left-off clothes, by which they make as much
sometimes as twelve or fifteen shillings per day. This is
one of the most lucrative systems of beggary; but it of
course succeeds best in the cold weather, when the beggars
manage to shiver and shake like aspens, and thus attract
a vast amount of sympathy. The system of hawking is
also excellent; many small shopkeepers do not make in a
day so much as some of these itinerant venders. Take for
instance; a pair of knit cotton braces; the hawker buys
them at fourpence, and sells them at one shilling and two-
pence, or at all events a shilling. He puts on the extra
halfpence, expecting to be beaten down.

" Beggars not only provide themselves with lists of the
residences of benevolent people in town and country, but
also have lists of all charitable societies and institutions,
to which they constantly apply in the winter, such as for
coals, potatoes, etc., which they always sell as soon as
obtained for half their value. Women get baby-linen,
tickets of admission to lying-in-hospitals, etc., all of which
they immediately sell for what they can get.

" Of an evening in London, the beggars meet at their
favourite haunts, where they eat and drink of the best.
At night they generally stay indoors and get drunk; but
a few of them dress themselves out in decent style and go
to the cheap concerts or to low gaming-houses. In Petti-
coat Lane, Whitechapel, there are several low gaming-
houses, kept by Jews; and as it is chiefly here that the
beggars sell the clothes which they obtain when out on
the shallow, so it is hither they come to lose their ill-got
money again at the gaming-table. Nearly all the Jews in
Petticoat Lane are receivers of stolen goods, or fences;
one or two of them keep fence-shops up at the West End
as branch establishments, and even sometimes send large
quantities of stolen property abroad. There are a great
many publicans who buy stolen property, and then sell it
again at a profit to the Jew fences. Some of these Jews
go into the country once or twice a year, travel from town
to town, and sell to country-dealers the plunder of the
metropolis. There are many Christian jewellers and
silversmiths who buy property direct from thieves;
and it is common enough with refiners, who never ask
any questions at all. The wealthiest Jew fences have

THE HANGMAN IN HIS GLORY AGAIN 275

agents, and are themselves but seldom seen in the trans-
actions.

" Another dangerous class of persons who profit by the
crimes which they do not directly commit themselves are
the putters-up of burglaries; and these are very often
marine-store dealers, or else flashy-looking fellows frequent-
ing public-houses. This latter class is specially dangerous;
they get hold of servant girls who come to fetch the beer,
pretend to court them, worm out of them the secrets of
the houses to which they belong, and then give the requisite
information to the cracksmen or burglars. Livery servants
are frequently putters-up of burglaries. The cracksman
or burglar generally dresses shabby, like a distressed trades-
man; they remain all day in low public-houses or boozing-
kens, drinking or playing at skittles.

" At the bottom of Red Lion Street, Cler ken well, is Capel
Court; and there lives a blacksmith who makes house-
breakers' implements. Cracksmen go to him and give their
orders; he tells them when the implements will be ready,
and appoints to meet them at some boozing-ken, perhaps
quite in another part of London. The sum agreed upon is
paid at this interview; and the blacksmith hands over a
brown paper parcel, containing all the implements, stating
that the packet has just come up from the country."

Having thus afforded our readers a specimen of Mr. Larry
Sampson's diary, we will now return to the Hangman,
whom we left busily engaged in consulting those entries
and statements which specially regarded himself and the
members of the gang to which he belonged.

He was still deep in his somewhat unpleasant though
interesting studies, when the thought suddenly floated to
his mind that he was incurring a great risk of detention by
prolonging his intrusion in the privacy of the officer's
sanctum. He therefore resolved to beat a precipitate retreat ;
and closing the book, he stole forth from the room, shut the
door behind him, relocked it by means of the skeleton key
which had ere now opened it, and then crept stealthily
down-stairs into the breakfast-parlour.

Fortunate indeed was it that he took this step just at
the moment; for scarcely had he seated himself in the
parlour, when Dame Margery made her appearance.

" Mr. Sampson," she said, " has this moment sent up

276 THE COURT OF LONDON

from Bow Street to inform me that he shall not be home
to dinner, and indeed that I must not expect to see him
before the evening, as some pressing business has trans-
pired to demand his immediate attention elsewhere."

" Oh, very well, ma'am," said Daniel Coffin, inwardly
rejoicing to think that he had not been surprised by the old
dame up in her master's private room. " Then I needn't
wait any longer, and so I'll call another day."

" Who shall I say has been? " inquired the housekeeper.

The Hangman hesitated a moment whether he should
give his name; but immediately recollecting that the woman
need only describe his personal appearance in order to make
her master understand who the visitor was, he said, boldly,
" Mr. Dan' el Coffin, of Fleet Lane."

" Ah! " she ejaculated, her looks filling with evident
disgust and horror as the mention of that name, striking
upon her ear like a pestilence upon the entire frame, revealed
to her the fact that she stood in the presence of the public
executioner. " Good morning, good morning," she hurriedly
observed, as she flew to open the front door with an
undisguised longing for the departure of so unwelcome a
visitant.

" Good morning, ma'am," said Coffin, not choosing to
take any notice of her altered manner; and he issued from
the house.

CHAPTER XXIII

THE CONSULTATION

IT was between eight and nine o'clock in the evening of
the same day, that the Hangman knocked at the door of
BenculPs dark crib in Mill Street, Jacob's Island. He was
no longer apparelled in his Sunday's best, having put off his
gala garb on his return from Larry Sampson's house; and he
was now attired in his usual coarse and ruffian-looking style.

" Who's there? " demanded the well-known voice of
Bencull from within.

" Mr. Dan' el Coffin," was the answer, accompanied by
a peculiar whistle.

" All right! " said Bencull; and the next moment the
door was opened.

" Anybody here yet? " demanded the Hangman, as he
entered the passage of that ominous-looking house.

" No, nobody yet," replied Bencull, as he closed and
bolted the street door.

" So much the better," observed Coffin; " because I want
to speak to you very particular indeed."

The two men proceeded into the back room which has
been described in a previous chapter. Liquor and pipes
were produced; and when the glasses were filled and the
blue wreaths of the tobacco-smoke were curling upward,
Bencull said, " Now, old fellow, what is it? "

" Well, my worthy friend," responded the Hangman,
looking moodily solemn and savagely serious as he spoke,
" I've made a discovery to-day that regards me, you,
everybody pretty nearly that we know, and thousands of
folk besides."

" What the devil do you mean, Dan'el? " exclaimed the
landlord of the dark crib, taking his pipe from his mouth

277

278 THE COURT OF LONDON

and gazing with mingled astonishment and alarm upon his
companion.

" Why, I mean that there's a man in existence/' replied
Coffin, " who for years past has been spreading out a great
web until he has covered the whole of London with the
invisible meshes. And in the middle of this web does he
sit like a sharp, cunning spider; while hundreds of flies
are getting entangled in it without knowing it, as one may
say, so that this great spider has got nothing to do but to
come forth at any moment and seize upon any one of the
flies that it fancies for its own precious picking. Or else
maybe it will bide its time and pounce upon half a dozen
or a dozen at a time, and of course make a terrible smash of
them all."

" I say, Dan'el, I can patter flash as well as any cross-
cove going," observed Bencull; " but, by jingo, if I can
understand a single word of all this gibberish that you've
been jabbering. Come now, let's have a bit of English;
'cos why, all that there is Greek to me."

" I can deuced soon explain myself," rejoined the Hang-
man. " Only fancy that Larry Sampson is this precious
great spider, and that all the cross-coves, macers, magsmen,
prigs, and cracksmen in London are the flies. Now do you
understand me? "

" I begin to do so," answered Bencull; " but only just
as a feller has a wacant idea of what he's about just when
he's getting sober after a deuced good booze."

"Then listen," said the Hangman. "Larry Sampson
has got a thundering big book, divided into three parts.
In the first part he puts down the names of all people that
the law looks with a suspicious eye upon; and I need hardly
tell you that your name and mine ain't omitted. In the
second division of the book, there's a list of all the flash
cribs, fence-shops, and travellers' houses in London; and
again I need hardly say that your establishment isn't
forgotten. But what's more, every soul frequenting it is
also put down in Larry's book; so there's me to begin with,
then Jeremy Humpage, next the Swag Chovey Bloak, then
Bob the Durrynacker, the Mushroom Faker, the Highflyer
of Fakements, the Buttoner, Nell Gibson, and, in fact, all
the select company that honour Mr. Bencull's house with
their presence."

THE CONSULTATION 279

" Well, I'm not over and above surprised to hear this,"
observed the landlord of the dark crib. " Of course Larry
Sampson knows all these things; his spies are everywhere — "

" Wait a moment, old fellow," exclaimed Coffin, " and
just hear what the third part of this great book says. It's
a sort of narrative or journal of all Larry's proceedings,
adventures, and enterprises; and what will you think when
I tell you that that knife-grinding fellow which we chucked
over into the ditch was never drowned at all, but is alive
and kicking at this moment."

" No, by jingo! is this true? " cried Bencull, turning
deadly pale. " Why, 'tis enough to hang us all! " and he
put his hand to his throat, as if he already experienced the
unpleasant sensation produced by the contact of a halter.

" I can't be hanged for it, at all events," exclaimed
Daniel Coffin, " seeing that I've got the royal pardon safe
and sound in my pocket. But you haven't heard quite all
yet; for if you are astonished at what I've already told
you, I don't know how you'll feel when I tell you that the
knife-grinder and Larry Sampson were one and the same
person. "

" Nonsense! " ejaculated Bencull, half-starting from his
chair, and chucking down his pipe so abruptly upon the
table that it broke into a dozen pieces. " You are either
mad or drunk, Dan'el. Which the devil is it? "

" Neither, you fool," answered the Hangman, with one
of his characteristic growls. " What I tell you is true;
and more than that, I have read in the great book sufficient
to show me that Larry Sampson is acquainted with the
secrets of nearly the whole lot of cross-coves in London."

" But why doesn't he take us up by hundreds, and have
us hung by twenties at a time? " asked Bencull, gathering
courage from the reflection which prompted the query.

" Why, don't you see," exclaimed Coffin, impatiently,
" that there's a wide deal of difference between knowing
all these kind of things, and being able to get together the
necessary evidence to convict a chap at the Old Bailey.
But you do see that Larry is constantly nabbing fellows
under extraordinary circumstances. Look how he ferrets
them out, traces their whole proceedings, follows them, as
one may say, step by step, from the moment they plan a
crime till the instant it is completed, brings the whole mass

280 THE COURT OF LONDON

of evidence to burst like a storm around them, and sends
them to the scaffold at last. Don't you see this constantly
being done, I say? And isn't it often a matter of wonder
how Larry does contrive to bring things home to people?
Well, then, now it ceases to be a matter of wonder, after all
that I have seen and learned to-day."

The Hangman then proceeded to inform his friend Ben-
cull how he had penetrated into Larry Sampson's private
apartment, and how he had beheld there all the costumes
and other accessories for an infinite variety of complete
disguises. Bencull was as much amazed and as thoroughly
petrified with wonder at hearing this recital as Coffin
himself had been when first entering that mysterious apart-
ment at Sampson's house. Indeed, several minutes elapsed
ere Bencull could recover in the slightest degree from that
stupor into which he was thus plunged.

" Well, there is one thing I can't understand," he said,
at length, when he had lighted another pipe and taken a
few whiffs. " How was it that within an hour after Larry
Sampson escaped from the ditch behind this house he did
not have you and me and all the others taken up and lodged
in Newgate at once? "

" Oh, I can understand his reason full well," returned the
Hangman. " You was one of the party that did that job
with the prince and Marquis of Leveson at Beechey Manor."

" Well, what of that? " exclaimed Bencull.

" Only that Larry Sampson, as it appears by his book,
was employed to sift that affair to the bottom," continued
Daniel Coffin; " and the better to follow out his researches,
he took the disguise of a knife-grinder, first going down to
Richmond to make inquiries there, and then coming down
here. Now, if he had handed us all over to justice, he would
have had to say why he came to the dark crib, so as to make
out his tale; and that would have been to tell on what
special service he was engaged at the time, and consequently
to proclaim to the whole world what had happened to the
prince and the Marquis of Leveson on a certain memorable
night. But as neither the prince nor the marquis wanted
it known at all, but, on the contrary, had certain reasons of
their own for wishing it to be kept deuced quiet, Larry
Sampson thought it best to hold his peace about his adven-
ture down here."

THE CONSULTATION 281

" Well, all this may be likely enough," said Bencull;
" but still it's quite clear that Larry knows a great deal more
than is convenient. And now I recollect, the night when
he was down here disguised as a knife-grinder, he went up-
stairs and saw old Jeremy Humpage -

" Well, well," interrupted the Hangman; " never mind
anything about the details of what happened on that par-
ticular night. What we have chiefly to think about at
present is whether we are to take any step to ensure our
safety for the future."

" In what way? " asked Bencull, with that kind of omi-
nously significant look which showed that he had caught
an inkling of the idea then uppermost in the Hangman's
mind. " Come, speak out, Dan'el; you and me are old pals,
and can trust each other."

" Then my mind is made up as to Larry Sampson,"
answered Coffin. " It's quite clear that no business is to
be done in future with any degree of safety, as long as Larry
is alive. He has got a halter around your neck, and around
the necks of all our pals and confederates, and he won't
be long before he gets one around my neck again also. And
when it is considered that he can pull these halters tight at
any moment he chooses, by Satan! to make away with such
a fellow would be conferring a blessing on the whole fra-
ternity."

" You and me, Dan'el," observed Bencull, jerking his
pipe toward the back of the house, " have shoved out more
than one stiff 'un into the black ditch; and therefore I don't
see why we should hesitate in making a croaker of Mr.
Larry Sampson."

" To be sure not, and it shall be done! " cried the Hang-
man. " But we must also take measures to get possession
of his book at the same time that we do his business for
him; or else, if that great volume fell into the hands of
another officer, it would soon put him into the right way of
becoming as knowing, and consequently as dangerous, as
Larry Sampson himself."

" Well, have you got any scheme in your head? " de-
manded Bencull.

" Larry Sampson must be enticed down here," said the
Hangman, " by some means or another; and while you and
two or three of our most trustworthy pals are doing his

282 THE COURT OF LONDON

business for him, I will call at his house in Long Acre on
some pretence and get possession of the great book."

" Well and good," said Bencull. " But how the deuce
do you hope to entice Larry to trust himself again in the
dark crib? "

" Cunning as he is, let us see if we can't be more cunning
still. What think you of planting some woman upon him
to make him believe that through revenge she wants to
betray a scheme in which her flash man is engaged? This
looks so devilish nat'ral, if we could only get a blowen of
the right sort to carry it out."

" What say you to Nell Gibson? " demanded Bencull.
" She's the most artfullest gal which I ever happened to be
acquainted with, besides which, she's got such a way of
looking so precious innocent and sincere when she's really
plotting the deepest mischief."

" Yes, we'll make use of Nell Gibson in this matter.
But are you quite sure that Nell is the most trustworthy
young woman that we could employ in the matter? You
know her better than I do."

" Why, my maxim always is never to trust any woman
farther than you can see her," replied Bencull; " and there-
fore it's my advice that while setting Nell Gibson to work
against Larry Sampson, we should also set somebody to
watch Nell Gibson."

" A very capital plan of yours, old fellow," observed the
Hangman. " And now, taking it for granted that Nell
Gibson will embark in this business, who shall we plant in
turn upon her? "

" Well, of all coveys that ever come to this house,"
answered Bencull, after a few moments' reflection, " that
Buttoner, or thimble-rig feller, is the downiest. Besides
which, he's been rayther sweet upon Nell Gibson for some
time past; but Nell won't have nothing to say to him
because he's down in his luck, and hasn't done overwell
lately. If we was only to rig him out with new toggery
from head to foot, give him a few cooters to flash about
with, and set him up in Swell Street, Nell would precious
soon take up with him, 'cos he's not a bad-looking chap by
no means."

" Well, I don't mind venturing fifteen or twenty guineas
for this part of the business," observed the Hangman;

THE CONSULTATION 283

" and you can therefore make it all right with the But-
toner."

" Agreed," said Bencull.

The Hangman accordingly produced his pocketbook and
drew forth bank-notes to the amount of twenty pounds,
which he handed to his accomplice; then rising from his
seat, he said, " I will go and see Nell Gibson at once. She
lives at Mother Young's, don't she? "

" Yes, where that old witch Mother Franklin is," replied
Bencull.

" To be sure, — I know all about it. I've been there often
enough before. So I'll just go and make it all right with
Nell, and will then come back to take another glass with
you. Perhaps I shall bring her with me."

Daniel Coffin then quitted the dark crib.

CHAPTER XXIV

NELL GIBSON

TURNING abruptly out of Mill Street into the narrow
passage that went shelving down toward the black ditch,
the Hangman hastily traversed the rickety old wooden
bridge, pausing only for an instant to cast a look down on
that stagnant water, the surface of which seemed like black
marble as the feeble moonlight played upon it. Cutting
straight through the fearful rookery constituting Jacob's
Island, he passed over another bridge on the farther side,
and at once plunged into the maze of vile, narrow, dark,
and filthy streets in the immediate vicinage.

In a few minutes Daniel Coffin reached a street somewhat
wider and to all appearances more respectable than the
rest; and presently he paused at a house whose shutters,
blinds, and door were all green. A subdued light shone forth
from every window, and the sounds of several female voices
emanated from the front room on the ground floor. The
Hangman knocked at the door, which was opened by a
very stout, red-faced woman of fifty. She was dressed in
a shabby black silk gown; a faded neckerchief, that once
had displayed the gaudiest colours, was thrown over her
immense s*houlders; and a dirty cap, adorned with tawdry
ribbons, was set awry upon her head, either through a
lingering sentiment of coquetry which had not deserted her
though she had fallen into the sear and yellow leaf, or else
for the less romantic reason of having been thrust aside in
some scuffle. She wore a false front to conceal the hair
which years of debauchery had tended even more than time
to rob of its pristine darkness; the tip of her nose was
rubicund and shining, and if any other evidence had been
wanting to prove her devotion to the bottle, it might have

284

NELL GIBSON 285

been perceived in the strong odour of the juniper which
infected her breath. A trumpery mosaic chain hung around
her great thick neck; and two or three flaring rings of base
metal, set with great pieces of coloured glass, were stuck
upon her very dirty fingers.

She held a candle in her hand; and the moment the light
fell upon the Hangman's countenance she exclaimed,
" Ah! Mr. Coffin is that you? Well, I raly am delighted to
see you alive again, after hearing as how you was dead and
feeding the fishes in the Thames. But, howsomever, you
are not looking the wuss for your late adventures."

" Not a bit, mother; they did me good, on the contrary/'
observed the Hangman, with a low chuckle, and with as
amiable a look as such a hangdog countenance as his own
could possibly assume; " besides which, you see, I've re-
sumed office at the Old Bailey again."

" I read all about it, Mr. Coffin, in the newspapers,"
returned the woman; " and I was struck all of a heap when
I seed how sudden you turned up again. But I hope," she
added, with a leering smile of coarse familiarity, " that if
so be I should come to Tuck-up Fair to dance upon nothing,
you'll treat me as a lady should be treated at a gentleman's
hands."

" That I will, mother," exclaimed Coffin, with a laugh
which almost sounded ominous to the woman's ears, and
made her repent of her joke as it sent a shudder coldly
quivering through her frame. " Depend upon it that if ever
you come to be taught the fall of a leaf in the Old Bailey, I'll
make the hempen neckcloth as comfortable for your old neck
as possible; and I'll let the drop fall so gentle under your
feet that you shall slide down as easy as a boy off a haystack."

" Well, come in, come in, Mr. Coffin," said Mrs. Young,
somewhat impatiently, as if she had had quite enough of that
terrible tragi-comic jesting. " Come in, I say, and wash
your mouth out with a drop of summat short."

Thus speaking, the woman led the way into the little
front parlour, where an immense fire blazed in the grate,
giving forth a stifling heat. Huddled together on an old
faded rickety sofa sat four young women, whose faces
highly coloured with rouge, shameless exposure of the
bosom, and immodest looks, but too plainly announced
their avocation. Lounging in an armchair near the fire sat

286 THE COURT OF LONDON

Nell Gibson, with one of her feet upon an old footstool, and
the other resting upon the hob, while her form was thrown
back with a lascivious abandonment mingled with reckless
indolence. She was, however, dressed more neatly and care-
fully than the girls upon the sofa, whose apparel was a mix-
ture of poverty-stricken meanness and scantiness, disguised
and embellished as much as possible by tawdry finery. But
Nell Gibson wore a good stuff dress, cut very low in front so
as to display the really fine bust which had not yet entirely
lost the first freshness of youth. Her arms, too, were bare,
but they were plump and white; the hands were not only
well made, but also scrupulously clean; and her well-shaped
legs were provided with clean white stockings and a new pair
of shoes. In fine, this young woman was altogether of a
beauty that shone in remarkable contrast with the faded
forms and worn-out looks of the girls upon the sofa. For,
alas! although these latter females were still but mere girls
as to age, yet were they old women, yes, old, old women in
sad experience, and also in the waste and ruin of those
charms which, even at the age of one or two and twenty,
required cosmetics to conceal the ravages of dissipation.

Having paid his respects to Nell Gibson and the other
females, the Hangman desired Mrs. Young to produce a
couple of bottles of wine; and as he threw down a guinea at
the same moment, the woman bustled about with alacrity
to give the necessary order. An old harridan of nearly
ninety, bent double with age, and who had passed the whole
of her long life in houses of crime, acted as Mrs. Young's
servant; and she was accordingly despatched to the nearest
public-house to fetch the wine. When she returned and
placed the bottles upon the table, the Hangman exclaimed,
in a bantering tone, " Halloa! Mother Franklin, are you
still alive? "

" Yes, you see I be," answered the old hag, wagging her
toothless jaws with a merry laugh.

" Why, how old are you now, you witch? " demanded the
Hangman.

" Eighty-nine, come next Febiverry," responded the hag;
" and you'll never reach that age, Mr. Coffin, for you're
doomed to go out of the world in the same way as you've
helped a many others to quit it," and she laughed with a
hideous cackling sound that presently merged into a choking

NELL GIBSON 287

cough which brought the scalding rheum into her bleared
eyes.

" By Satan! " exclaimed Coffin, ferociously, " I shall have
the satisfaction of tucking you up before I die, you infernal
old beldam ! Why, I don't believe you were ever in a respect-
able house in your life! "

" That's true enough," answered the hag, with her horrible
chuckle. " I was born in such a house as this, I was bred in
it, I became prematurely old in it," she continued, glancing
significantly toward the girls upon the sofa. " I have been
the child of crime, the mother of crime, and the widow of
crime; and now I may say I am the great-great-grand-
mother of crime. Lord bless ye, you won't see one in a
thousand, no, nor yet one in a million, that comes to my
age after passing all one's life in such houses as this here.
They mostly die in ditches, or on dunghills, or in hospitals
or workhouses, long, long before they come to even half
my age."

" Hold your tongue, you old witch! " ejaculated Nell
Gibson, half-starting from her chair in a rage. " I declare
if you're allowed to let your tongue run on like this, I'll
leave the house."

" It's shameful to let Mother Franklin talk just as she
likes," observed the young females upon the sofa; but they
did not threaten to leave the house, for they were entirely
in Mrs. Young's power; whereas Nell Gibson was totally
independent of the woman.

" There, take that, you old beldam, and be off! " said the
Hangman, savagely, tossing her a shilling.

Mother Franklin, who had thrown a look of diabolical
spite upon Nell Gibson when she threatened to leave the
house, now fastened the same malignant look upon the
Hangman, muttering to herself, " What! only a shilling, a
beggarly shilling, for fetching that wine and standing all this
abuse! " Then suddenly picking up the coin, she bustled
out of the room, laughing with that hideous laugh which
was between a cackle and a cough.

The Hangman, perceiving that he had just drawn the
ancient harridan into a conversation which had thrown
a damp upon the spirits of those present, hastened to pour
out the wine and pass around the glasses, the contents of
which were speedily disposed of. The girls upon the sofa

288 THE COURT OF LONDON

were specially prompt in emptying their glasses, and they
looked particularly satisfied when Mr. Coffin refilled them.
Then, after chatting on various subjects for about a quarter
of an hour, the Hangman said to Nell Gibson, " I want to
speak to you upon very particular business."

She looked at him for a moment with a strange gaze, in
which astonishment, indignation, and disgust were all clearly
and plainly blended; then, suddenly bursting out into a
loud laugh, she said, " No, Mr. Coffin, any living soul but
the public executioner."

" What does the girl mean? " growled the Hangman,
his countenance all of a sudden assuming a look of diabolical
ferocity; but the next moment, recollecting that it was
his policy to conciliate instead of angering Ellen Gibson, he
said, in as mild a tone as it was in his nature to adopt, " I
didn't mean any tender proposal, Nell; but it's on a matter
of business I want to speak to you, and so if you'll just put
on your bonnet and shawl and step out with me, we can
chat as we walk up and down the street; or may be you
would step around as far as Bencull's for half an hour or so."

" No, I don't want to go out to-night," said Nell; "it's raw
and damp, and I've got a cold. But we can talk here," and
she made a sign to Mother Young and the four girls, who all
took the hint accordingly and quitted the room. " Now,
then, what is it? " inquired the young woman, still retaining
her indolent attitude as she lolled in the armchair near the
fire.

" And so you wouldn't have accepted me as your lover? "
said the Hangman, with a jocose look, as he really began to
feel somewhat excited by the provoking abandonment of
the young woman's fine person in that attitude of indolent
wantonness.

" Faugh! there is a smell about you as if you had been
touching dead bodies," replied Nell, who was of a very
independent spirit and did not mind saying what she thought.
Indeed, vile, depraved, remorseless prostitute as she was,
and ready also to sell herself to even the most disgusting old
men so long as she was adequately paid, she nevertheless
recoiled in unfeigned loathing and aversion from the idea
of such contact with the public executioner.

" Well, at all events, you are candid, Nell," said Daniel
Coffin, after a brief pause, during which he bit his lip almost

NELL GIBSON 289

till the blood came, so desperate for a moment was his
vexation at the disgust with which the young woman re-
garded him. " But come, it's no use for you and me to
wrangle while there's business to be done; so I suppose we
are all good friends again? "

" To be sure," answered Nell, instantaneously recovering
her good humour; " so long as you don't talk to me in a
particular way, we shall be the best friends in the world, as
we always have been hitherto; and if there's anything to
be done in which my services can be made handy, you know
very well that you can command me."

" I am glad to hear you speak in this sensible way," said
Coffin, laying aside all his recent resentment, " because there
really is something important on hand. You recollect that
night, down at the dark crib, when you enticed a young lady
there — "

" To be sure; and she had plenty of trinkets and a well-
filled purse," exclaimed Nell, " out of all which we were
shamefully bilked. But what of her? "

" Oh, nothing about her; but you remember that rascally
knife-grinding fellow that undertook to send her into
kingdom-come? "

" As if it was possible to forget that man whom we sent
to sleep at the bottom of the black ditch," said the young
woman, her tone and her looks both suddenly becoming
serious.

" Yes, but what will you think," exclaimed the Hang-
man, " when I tell you that the fellow does not sleep at the
bottom of the black ditch at all, but, on the contrary, must
have been awoke into consciousness and life when plunged
into that slimy pool? And what else will you think when
I tell you that not only is that knife-grinder safe and sound
in the land of the living, but that he is none other than our
mortal enemy Larry Sampson? "

With a surprise that rapidly increased into a speechless
wonderment did Nell Gibson hear the announcements thus
made by Daniel Coffin; and even before she could so far
recover from this stupefaction as to be able to give utterance
to a word, did the Hangman proceed to recite the same
account as he had already given to Bencull concerning his
visit to Larry Sampson's house and the discoveries he had
made through the agency of the great book. We need hardly

290 THE COURT OF LONDON

say that Nell Gibson's surprise soon became commingled
with alarm and dismay; for there were many episodes in. her
career which she had hitherto fancied to be utterly unsus-
pected by the myrmidons of justice, but which, from what
the Hangman now told her, were indeed too well known to
Larry Sampson. It was true that, save and except her share
in the attempt to murder the officer when disguised as a
knife-grinder, there was no enormous crime which could
positively and unquestionably be brought home to her;
otherwise, perhaps, Larry would not have allowed her to
remain at large so long. But it was quite clear that he knew
more about her than was pleasant to be thus known, and
that such knowledge of her antecedents would render her
future career an object of constant suspicion and surveillance,
thereby planting, as it were, a thousand hidden dangers in her
way.

When, therefore, the Hangman proposed that she should
embark in some enterprise the aim of which was nothing less
than the murder of the Bow Street officer, she experienced
no compunction in giving a prompt and even cheerful assent
to the scheme. Coffin then proceeded to develop his views,
in the discussion of which the extraordinary keenness and
astuteness of the young woman afforded no inconsiderable
help, leading to many practical suggestions of importance
to the infernal project. Finally, after a lengthened delibera-
tion, the Hangman and Nell Gibson came to a complete
understanding together; and the former, taking leave of
Mother Young's establishment, returned to the dark crib
in Jacob's Island, to report to Bencull the success of his
mission.

But little did either Daniel Coffin or Nell Gibson suspect
that throughout their private interview and important
colloquy, old Mother Franklin, the toothless harridan
belonging to Mrs. Young's establishment, had been listening
eagerly and breathlessly at the keyhole of the parlour door.

CHAPTER XXV

VENETIA AND HEK ADMIRERS

A FORTNIGHT had elapsed since the occurrences just
related, and it was now the middle of November, — that
month of short days and dark fogs in which Englishmen are
reputed to show a greater predilection for suicide than at
any other season of the year.

On the particular evening of which we are about to write,
the prince regent was entertaining at his dinner-table Lord
and Lady Sackville, Sir Douglas Huntingdon, and the Earl
of Curzon. The reader will therefore perceive that it was
quite a select little party; and Venetia, being the only lady
present, was of course compelled to render herself as agree-
able as possible. We were wrong, however, to use the word
compelled, because the beautiful creature possessed that
admirable tact, ladylike discernment, and natural flow of
spirits which always enabled her to be affable and agreeable
without an effort; and the spells of fascination seemed to
belong as naturally to her manners as loveliness hung like
a charm upon her person, or as the sweetest and richest
melody poured itself forth in the tones of her voice.

It will be remembered that the Earl of Curzon had cher-
ished a great deal of animosity toward Venetia, not only
for having rejected his advances, but also for having bestowed
her hand upon Horace Sackville; and the reader may like-
wise suppose that Venetia, on her side, did not immediately
forget the cowardly threats which the earl had held forth
when he visited her at Acacia Cottage, or the malignant
irony of his manner when he congratulated her immediately
after the ceremony at St. George's, Hanover Square. But
when Horace and Venetia became not only Lord and Lady
Sackville, but also took up their quarters at Carlton House

291

292 THE COURT OF LONDON

and were at once admitted by the acclamation of the whole
fashionable world to be the idols of the day, no sooner,
we say, were the newly married couple thus elevated on so
lofty a pedestal, than the Earl of Curzon was one of the first
to pay his court to them. For he felt that to be at war with
Horace and Venetia would amount to total exclusion from
the banquets, the balls, and the soirees at Carlton House;
and to such exclusion the earl's vanity would not permit
him to submit. Swallowing, therefore, his resentment and
putting the best possible face upon the matter, he had
hastened to make his peace with the Sackvilles; and they
had succeeded too well in their ambitious projects not to be
able to afford forgiveness in this respect. Indeed, it had
become a part of the conventional tactics of Horace and
Venetia not to make enemies if they could prevent it, and
to disarm all existing hostilities, so as to afford as little
impulse as possible to the ill-natured things which were cer-
tain to be said relative to individuals who had experienced
so sudden and remarkable an elevation to rank, fortune, and
power.

The Earl of Curzon was a consummate hypocrite when it
suited his purpose to act with duplicity; and no sooner had
he made his peace with the Sackvilles when he became most
fervid in his demonstrations of friendship toward them.
He made Lord Sackville a present of a splendid horse; and
he now and then sent Venetia beautiful bouquets of flowers,
the newly published prints, and such gifts as a gentleman
may without indiscretion proffer to a lady. All this he did
without any obtrusiveness or any apparently interested
motive; his visits were not more frequent than they ought
to be, and he invariably behaved with the most courteous
respect toward Lady Sackville. The result was that his past
conduct was at length pretty well forgotten; and though
he was not perhaps regarded in the light of a friend, he at
all events was considered as a very intimate acquaintance.

And now a word or two with regard to Sir Douglas Hun-
tingdon. Upwards of a fortnight had elapsed since that
memorable evening on which the baronet and Venetia had
met in the anteroom leading to the saloon where the aris-
tocratic young ladies had made a pastime of dancing and
throwing flowers around the prince. During this fortnight
Sir Douglas, emboldened by the encouragement which

VENETIA AND HER ADMIRERS 293

Venetia appeared to give him upon that occasion, had be-
come a more frequent visitor at the suite of apartments which
she and Horace occupied at Carlton House; and it is quite
certain that he received no discouragement on the part of
Venetia. On the contrary, she always managed to be " at
home " to him; and when he took his leave of her on each
occasion, she generally contrived to give him a hint as to the
most convenient hour for him to call the next day. At the
outset of these visits, he had ventured to press her hand to
his lips; and the chiding he received was so gentle that it
did not prevent him from snatching a kiss from the damask
cheek. At the next visit, therefore, — as this boldness on
his part had excited but a moderate degree of resentment, —
he was venturous enough to cull the sweets of her delicious
mouth. This liberty experienced no very cruel chastisement,
and therefore Sir Douglas felt himself justified in cherishing
the fervid hope that ere long these little favours which he
obtained in detail would be crowned by the complete sur-
render of the fortress.

Thus stood matters at the time specified at the opening
of this chapter; namely, on that evening in the middle of
November when we thus find the Sackvilles, the Earl of
Curzon, and Sir Douglas Huntingdon dining with the prince
regent.

It was about nine o'clock, the dessert had just been placed
upon the table, and the wine was beginning to circulate
pretty freely, save with respect to Venetia herself. Never-
theless, a little champagne which she had taken at dinner,
and the glass of fine old port which she was just sipping now
had slightly enhanced the bloom upon her cheeks, deepening
it into a richer carnation, while her beautiful blue eyes
appeared to swim in a more softly sensuous and melting
languor. Delicious, too, was the dewy moisture of those lips
which seemed to invite the tenderest kisses, and to be able
to give them back again ; and as the lustre of the lamps shone
upon her rich auburn hair, crowning her with light and
setting forth the grandeur of her forehead in all its alabaster
purity, she appeared to be one of those beings who can only
have an ideal existence in the verse of the poet or the page
of the novelist.

It was about half-past nine when a footman entered
and whispered something in the ear of the prince.

294 THE COURT OF LONDON

" Show his lordship up immediately," exclaimed his
Royal Highness, aloud. Then, so soon as the servant had
retired, he observed, " It is Leveson, who has just come
back from Paris; and, as a matter of course, he will be wel-
come amongst us."

" Oh, assuredly! " exclaimed the Earl of Curzon. " But
what did he go to Paris for? "

" Ah! that, I suppose, is his secret," replied the prince,
who, however, knew full well wherefore the marquis had
gone so suddenly abroad more than a month previously,
and why he had remained so long in the French capital.

The Marquis of Leveson now made his appearance; and
when the usual greetings and complimentary phrases were
exchanged, he took a seat on the left hand of the prince, ' —
Venetia being on the right of his Royal Highness.
The conversation was continued upon general subjects for
some time; but presently when Lord Sackville, the Earl
of Curzon, and Sir Douglas Huntingdon had become involved
in a warm though friendly discussion upon some moot-
point, to which Venetia was listening with great interest, the
prince and the Marquis of Leveson seized the opportunity
to exchange a few hurried and whispered observations.

" What news? " inquired the prince.

" Did you not receive letters from me yesterday, stating
that I should be home to-day? " asked Leveson.

" Yes," replied the prince. " And nothing, I suppose,
is changed since the date at which you wrote those letters? "

" Nothing," returned the marquis. " As you are aware,
Julia Owen has gone on to rejoin her sisters in Italy — "

" Yes, that I know well enough," interrupted the prince;
" and she must have reached them by this time. Why, it is
a fortnight since you despatched her from Paris, on the
failure of that precious affair between her and the falsely
styled Jocelyn Loftus."

At the mention of this name, which caught Venetia's
ear, she gave a start, though it was unperceived by any one
present. Then, while apparently continuing to listen with
interest to the discussion between her husband, the earl,
and the baronet, she in reality lent an earnest and attentive
ear to the whispered and confidential discourse that was
going on between the prince regent and the Earl of Leveson.
The latter proceeded to make certain observations relative

VENETIA AND HER ADMIRERS 295

to Jocelyn Loftus, which revealed to the ears of Venetia a
remarkable secret in connection with that young gentleman,
showing to her how it was that the prince had ere now spoken
of him as the falsely styled Jocelyn Loftus.

But why is Venetia interested in aught that concerns
Jocelyn Loftus? Does she know him? Has she ever seen
him? In a word, wherefore has her heart begun to flutter
like a frightened bird in its cage, and why does it need all her
resolution, all her firmness, all her presence of mind to pre-
vent the betrayal of those emotions which the mention of
this name has suddenly excited within her bosom?

We cannot answer these questions at present; and there-
fore must we pursue, without delay, the thread of our nar-
rative.

" And is he still in the prefecture? " inquired the prince,
continuing the whispered discourse with Leveson, while
Venetia was straining every sense to catch each word that
passed between them.

" Yes," returned the marquis. " What else could possibly
be done with him? He is proof against all temptation; his
virtue would put the old Stoic philosophers to shame; and
if he were set at large he would blow to the winds all that
fine scheme which, if successful, will relieve you from the
trammels of your accursed marriage."

" But will the French government consent to retain him
a prisoner much longer? " asked the prince. " Seeing that
the pretext is so shallow, I fear lest it should be under the
necessity of setting him at liberty."

" Not at all," returned the marquis. " King Louis
acknowledges his obligation to succour your Royal Highness
to the utmost of his power, and he pledged himself to me
to do so."

" Then the imprisonment of that mad-brained, obstinate
young man is likely to be prolonged indeed? " said the prince.
" But what have you done with that beautiful Louisa
Stanley of whom you wrote to me in such glaring colours? "

" Would you believe it, sir, I have brought her back
from Paris and managed to entice her to Albemarle Street,"
said the marquis, with a leer of most sensual satisfaction.

" Do you mean to say that you have already won that
prize? " asked the prince.

" No, no, not yet. I have been playing the paternal,

296 THE COURT OF LONDON

and she looks up to me quite as a father. She has got a
sister somewhere in London; but she has evidently mistaken
the address of this sister's residence. However, I will tell
you all about this another time; suffice it to say that Louisa
is a charming creature, and I have obtained such influence
over — "

The whispered dialogue between the prince and the
marquis, and the animated discussion on the part of Sack-
ville, Curzon, and Huntingdon, were both alike interrupted
at this particular moment by the circumstance of Venetia
suddenly upsetting her wine-glass by a too abrupt move-
ment which she made; and as the wine was spilt upon the
rich satin dress that she wore, she started from her seat,
evidently much confused and chagrined at an accident which
had drawn all eyes upon her. Then faltering forth a few
words of apology, she hurried from the room.

Hastening to her own chamber, she threw herself upon the
sofa and fell into a profound reverie. Painful it no doubt
was, for her troubled spirit seemed to look through the eyes
that were bent down fixedly, beaming not with a voluptuous
languor now. Painful, too, that reverie was, because the
colour had fled from her cheeks and an unrelieved pallor
sat upon her countenance. Presently she pressed her hand
forcibly to her heart, as if to still its throbbings; and that
superb bosom which was wont to swell so warmly and glow-
ingly with amorous emotions now appeared to palpitate
beneath the empire of other and far different thoughts.

But suddenly starting from the sofa, she assumed a look
of forced composure, — that look which an energetic woman
puts on when, in the presence of dangers, difficulties, or
annoyances suddenly starting up before her, she resolves
to adopt a decisive course. Ringing the bell to summon her
faithful attendant Jessica, Venetia hastened to put off the
soiled dress and array herself in another robe. Then, ere
she quitted the chamber, she said to Jessica, " You must
hasten up to Stratton Street at once, and tell Miss Bathurst
that it is probable inquiries may be made for a certain person
and that she must be upon her guard accordingly. Whisper
this much in Miss Bathurst's ear; or if Miss Bathurst should
not happen to be at home, tell it to Mrs. Arbuthnot, and the
meaning of the message will be thoroughly understood."

Having given these instructions, Lady Sackville descended

VENETIA AND HER ADMIRERS 297

to the saloon belonging to the suite of apartments which she
and her husband occupied at Carlton House; and after re-
maining there for a short time, until she had entirely regained
an outward appearance of calmness as well as some of the
lost carnation hues upon her cheeks, she rang the bell and
ordered her serious-looking valet, who answered the sum-
mons, to go and inform his Royal Highness and his guests
that she should be happy to see them to take coffee with
her.

Half an hour afterward, the prince, the marquis, the earl,
and the baronet, accompanied, of course, by Lord Sackville
himself, repaired to the saloon where Venetia was thus
awaiting their presence; and as the company partook of
the fragrant coffee and the choice liqueurs which followed
she conversed as gaily and as cheerfully as if she had ex-
perienced no sudden paroxysm of low spirits during the
entire evening.

Sir Douglas Huntingdon had seated himself next to her
at the tea-table; and the influence of the wine he had drunk,
mingling with that of her transcendent charms and the
melody of her fluid voice, filled him with a species of delirious
intoxication which rendered all control of his feelings a
matter of utter impossibility. Availing himself, therefore,
of a moment when no one else observed him, and hurried
along by an irresistible current of ecstatic emotions, he
whispered, " By Heaven! Venetia, you are adorable to-
night! 0 for one hour of your love, and I would cheerfully
resign all the remainder of my existence to enjoy it."

" Are you serious, and would you do me a great — a very
great service? " she inquired, in a low, deep whisper, ac-
companying her words by a look which seemed to blend a
profound earnestness of purpose with a tender intimation
that she was willing to pay the highest price which woman
can give for the service to which she had just alluded.

" Tell me what I can do for you, adorable being," mur-
mured the enraptured baronet, " and I will peril my life in
your service."

Venetia threw a hurried glance around; and perceiving
that this rapid and whispered colloquy at the tea-table was
still unobserved, she darted a sudden look of vivid intelligence
upon the baronet, saying, in an equally hurried but low-
breathed tone at the same time, " I will write presently upon

298 THE COURT OF LONDON

a slip of paper that which I should blush to say in your
presence."

Having thus given a sort of promise to which the baronet
instantaneously attached the tenderest and most delicious
interpretation, Venetia rose from her seat; and crossing
the room, she threw herself upon a sofa at the farther end,
as if to get as far as possible from the heat of the very large
fire that was blazing in the grate.

The Earl of Curzon now approached her, and negligently
taking a seat by her side, he began to converse upon a variety
of those topics which make up the sum of fashionable dis-
course. But Venetia was preoccupied with other and more
important matters, so that at times she fell into a pensive
mood, from which she would suddenly start and then gaze upon
the earl with a look of vacant inquiry, as if in wonder at what
he had been saying. In fact, there was altogether a peculi-
arity in her manner which she could not control, and which
she even rendered more strange by attempting to subdue it,
or to repair the awkwardness of its effects.

Now the Earl of Curzon had been drinking freely; and
the wine had produced upon him a certain excitement
which the magic of Venetians charms speedily enhanced to
an almost frenzied degree. Thus, losing his head, as it were,
in the fumes of the generous grape and in the intoxicating
influences of his own desires, he mistook that peculiarity
of Venetians manner for the embarrassment and confusion
attendant upon a favourable feeling experienced toward
himself. His vanity assisted this belief; and thus blindly
abandoning himself to it, he ventured to touch Venetians
hand with a significant tenderness. She perceived the cir-
cumstance and threw upon him a glance which was about
to shoot forth the fires of indignation, when all in a moment
the truth flashed to her mind. She remembered that her
manner had been strange and preoccupied, and this recollec-
tion furnished her with the key to the mystery of the earl's
conduct. Yes, it was quite clear; he fancied she was in love
with him, and that all the last half-hour's absence of mind
and preoccupation were the proofs of this affection on her
part.

Thus was it that the sudden flashing of the truth to her
comprehension checked the indignation which her looks were
about to pour forth upon the earl; and at the same moment

VENETIA AND HER ADMIRERS 299

another thought sprang up in her mind. But this second
thought was of importance to herself, suggestive as it was
of a means by which she could render the earl serviceable
in certain matters upon which she had this night resolved.

Suffering, therefore, her hand to remain in contact with
his own, she bent upon him a look into which she threw as
much tenderness and encouragement as she dared without
incurring the risk of being deemed too ready to accept his
overtures and too willing to fling herself into his arms.

" Have you forgiven me for the insolence of my conduct
on the first day of our acquaintance? " he inquired, in a low
voice.

" Most assuredly, " she softly answered. " Has not my
conduct proved this much? "

" Ah! if I dared to hope," murmured the earl, with a
sigh.

" If I were to bid you hope," whispered Venetia, after a
few instants' pause, and speaking as if in obedience to the
sudden impulse of a feeling stronger than herself, " would
you be ready to perform any service which I might demand? "

" Did you order me to kill myself at your feet as a proof of
my devotion," responded the earl, transported with raptures
and incredulous even to the amount of that happiness which
the present discourse inspired, " I would do it unhesitatingly
— oh, unhesitatingly this momentf "

" And you swear by your God, and by your honour as a
man," whispered Venetia, earnestly and even solemnly,
" that you will keep secret whatever may pass between us? "

" I will, I will," answered the earl. " I would sooner die
than deceive you."

Venetia appeared satisfied with this reply; for her looks
brightened up, and she threw upon the nobleman a glance
of mingled gratitude and tenderness. Then, after reflecting
deeply for a few moments, she said, " I cannot tell you more
now, but presently I will slip a note into your hand."

Having given the earl this assurance, which seemed to
promise joys and favours that should crown him with a
triumph and a bliss which even an hour before appeared to
be not merely incalculably remote but scarcely probable or
possible at all, having thus breathed those honeyed words of
hope, we say, Venetia rose from the sofa and advanced to-
ward the prince and the others who were standing in a group

300 THE COURT OF LONDON

before the fire and conversing upon some animated topic of
politics.

But as Venetia thus drew near, that topic, usually con-
sidered to be so unwelcome to ladies, was instantly aban-
doned; and the prince, fixing his eyes upon his beautiful
mistress, said, " Is your ladyship inclined to favour us with
music, or are we to betake ourselves to cards? "

" I am somewhat indisposed this evening, sir," answered
Venetia, " and cannot sing. Indeed, it is my intention to
retire early; but if you will agree to amuse yourselves with
cards, I am sure that Horace will himself make you a bowl
of curagoa punch according to that receipt which you have
all on former occasions pronounced to be so fine. I presume
your Royal Highness does not wish us to stand on cere-
mony? " added Venetia, with one of her most winning and
fascinating smiles; " and no one beyond these walls need
know that the lord steward of the regent's household con-
descends to manufacture punch."

There was a great deal of laughing and joking at this
proposition so good-naturedly and humourously made,
and we need hardly say that it was at once accepted. The
prince, the marquis, the earl, and the baronet sat down to
whist, and Lord Sackville retired into his dining-room to
make the punch. Thither he was presently followed by
Venetia, and as she assured herself that he had every ingre-
dient he required, she observed, in a low tone and with
a sudden pouting of her beautiful lips, " After all, I am
sorry that I proposed this very inebriating mixture."

" And wherefore? " asked her husband, astonished at the
remark.

" Because," she replied, with a downcast look and a glow
upon her cheeks, " as I just quitted the saloon, the prince
made a sign which I could not but too well understand — "

" Ah! I know what you mean," observed Sackville, biting
his lip. " The prince means to pass the night with you."

But the blush almost immediately passed away from
Venetians countenance, and the pang which shot through her
husband's heart was only momentary; for the delicacy of
feeling which had conjured up the former and produced the
latter was almost completely extinguished within their
breasts so far as their connection as man and wife was
concerned.

VENETIA AND HER ADMIRERS 301

Alas! alas! that such dreadful depravity should have
prevailed where there was so much beauty, such intelligence
and such naturally godlike qualities on either side!

Venetia now left her husband to continue the manufacture
of the punch, while she hastened up to her own boudoir;
and sitting down to her writing-desk, she penned the follow-
ing note, which she intended for the Earl of Curzon:

" I promised that I would slip a few lines into your hand,
and I keep my word. The reason why I thus commit myself
to paper is to furnish you with a proof of my sincerity, so that
in return you may hesitate not to render me the great and
important service which I require at your hands. Come
to me to-morrow morning at eleven o'clock. I will receive
you in my boudoir, where we may converse for half an hour
without restraint.

" VENETIA."

Having penned this note in her beautiful fluent hand, Lady
Sackville took another piece of paper and wrote thereon
the following words, intended for Sir Douglas Huntingdon:

" I promised that I would slip a note into your hand this
evening, and I keep my word. Yes, I love thee; and I accept
thy love in return. The reason why I write these lines is
because I can make upon paper that appointment which
I should never have dared to breathe with my lips. The
punch will be strong; you can affect to be overcome by it,
and Sackville will offer you a chamber for the night in our
suite of apartments. I shall be alone in my boudoir, the
door of which faces the marble statue of Diana in the gallery.

" VENETIA."

Having concluded this second billet, Venetia proceeded to
fold each up into the smallest possible compass; and thrust-
ing one into the right bosom of her dress and the other into
the left, she returned to the saloon. There she found the
card-playing going on and the punch already served around.
At that moment, too, the Earl of Curzon was rising from
the card-tables to make room for Horace, who accordingly
sat down to take a hand in the game; and Venetia now
therefore found a speedy opportunity of thrusting one of

302 THE COURT OF LONDON

the notes into the hand of the Earl of Curzon. This ma-
noeuvre was of course unperceived by everybody else; and
the earl, after flinging a look expressive of fervid gratitude
upon her ladyship, quitted the room.

In a few minutes he returned; and she read in his looks
the ineffable delight which filled his soul. She accordingly
understood full well that he had sought an opportunity to
read her billet, and that he could know not a greater happi-
ness than that of complying with its contents.

In a short time Sir Douglas Huntingdon rose from the
table, declaring that " he was in no humour to play at
cards to-night: " and the prince regent accordingly desired
the Earl of Curzon to join the whist party again. To this
request, which was a command when coming from royalty,
the nobleman immediately yielded; and Sir Douglas went
and placed himself by the side of Venetia, who had taken
a chair at some little distance.

Watching her opportunity, when the card-players were
most intent on their game, Lady Sackville slipped the other
note into the baronet's hand; and soon afterward, it being
now past midnight, she retired to her own chamber.

CHAPTER XXVI

THE BOUDOIR

ON thus retiring to her elegant boudoir, Venetia neither
rang immediately for her maid to help her to lay aside her
apparel, nor did she commence her night toilet alone; but
flinging herself on the sofa near the fire, she gave way to her
reflections.

A deep melancholy crept over her, and tears even stole
forth upon her long dark lashes; then, as if it were a positive
luxury to escape from the hollowness, the falsity, and the
demoralization of a court life even for a few minutes, and
to indulge in the unrestrained thought which the solitude of
her own chamber permitted, she murmured, audibly, " Yes,
let me weep, let me weep! "

And Venetia wept, not violently, like the rains pouring
forth from an angry heaven to beat down the fairest flowers
and crush the sweetest buds of promise, but softly and
gently, like the April showers descending with a genial
influence to give freshness to nature's expanding verdure
in garden, grove, and field. Thus did Venetia's tears fer-
tilize, as it were, her memory and her heart for the time being;
and all the tenderest recollections that the former cherished,
and all the sweetest feelings of woman's nature which the
latter harboured, were revived into freshness and wooed
into bloom by the gentle shower that fell from the deep blue
heaven of her eyes.

Presently she rose from the sofa, passed behind a low
screen which partitioned off one corner of the elegantly
furnished boudoir, and opened a splendid bureau or cabinet
made of ebony inlaid with mother-of-pearl. Thence she
took forth her jewel-box; but her eyes shone not with
pleasure at the view of the flashing gems which the box

303

304 THE COURT OF LONDON

contained. No; for these she recked not now, and the
object of her search was nothing more than a small packet
of letters tied around with a simple white ribbon. Returning
to her seat upon the sofa, Venetia began to examine these
letters, which were all written in the same hand, and this
hand was a beautiful female one, closely resembling her
own fluid and elegant writing.

But as she ran her eyes over certain passages in that
correspondence, the tears rained down her cheeks; and at
length she wept so copiously that through the half-blinding
floods she beheld the paper and the writing on it as through
a mist. But this outpouring of her heart's long pent-up
feelings proved an immense relief, an incalculable solace;
and wiping from her eyes the last pearl-drops which hung
upon the long, dark, softly curved lashes, she tied up the
packet of letters with the white ribbon and restored them
to the jewel-box. Then, having consigned the box itself to
the secure keeping of the ebony cabinet', she rang the bell
for Jessica.

The summons was not answered with the abigaiFs wonted
promptitude, and after allowing three or four minutes'
license, Venetia rang again. This time the summons was
speedily responded to; and Jessica came hurrying into the
boudoir, with an apology and an explanation upon her lips
for the previous neglect and delay.

" I beg your ladyship's pardon most sincerely," she said;
" but I was busily engaged at the moment your ladyship's bell
rang the first time, in seeing that the spare bedroom was put
into order — "

" The spare bedroom! " ejaculated Venetia, affecting
surprise.

" Yes, my lady," returned Jessica; " it appears that one
of the guests in the saloon has taken the least drop too much."

" Ah! indeed," said Venetia. " And who is it that has
thus forgotten himself? "

" I don't know which of the guests it is, my lady," replied
Jessica; " indeed, I didn't hear his name mentioned at all.
My lord," she continued, alluding to Horace, " came out and
gave the hurried order that the spare bedroom was to be
got ready immediately, and that was the reason I did not
fly to answer your ladyship's bell when it rang the first time."

" I am not angry, Jessica," said Venetia, smiling. " And

THE BOUDOIR 305

while I think of it, I may as well observe that as I do not
feel very well to-night, I shall perhaps take breakfast in bed
in the morning. At all events, you need not come to me until
I ring."

" Very good, my lady," observed Jessica, as she combed
out Venetia's magnificent auburn hair, which was glossy and
smooth as velvet, and shining as dark gold, — so luxuriant
that it could be spread like a veil all over her shoulders and
her bosom, and so long that it reached far below her waist.

" And you will tell the footman in the morning," continued
Venetia, " in case I should forget to mention it again, that
any one who calls at eleven o'clock in the forenoon punctually
is to be shown straight up hither, as I expect some one on
business of importance."

" Your ladyship's commands shall be attended to," said
Jessica.

The night toilet progressed; the masses of silken, auburn
hair were gathered loosely up with a sort of graceful negli-
gence beneath an elegant lace cap, and having laid aside her
apparel, Venetia dismissed her attendant for the night.
Putting on a muslin wrapper, beautifully worked, and
edged with the costliest lace, she threw herself upon the
sofa; and as she lay half-reclining there, the dark purple
velvet of that sofa formed a background to throw forth her
superb form in all its grandest and most voluptuous effects.

The gorgeous contours of the bust, left half-exposed in
their dazzling whiteness by the loose wrapper, the fine mould-
ing of the form and the admirable proportions of the limbs,
displayed by the folds of the very muslin which enveloped
them, constituted a picture so exquisitely beautiful and
yet so sensuously luxurious that a saint must have wor-
shipped Venetia as the idol of devotion, and must have sunk
into her arms even though it were tasting the forbidden
fruit that would entail the loss of Paradise.

But what were Venetia's thoughts as she thus lay half-
reclining upon that sofa, in all the voluptuous abandonment
of a rich glowing form draped only with the night-gear and
the loose muslin wrapper, and in an atmosphere that was
warm and perfumed? For the fire of red-hot coals was heaped
high up in the grate; and three or four porcelain vases
exhaled a delicious fragrance. If anything were calculated
to encourage sensations of softly longing wantonness, the

306 THE COURT OF LONDON

very attitude, the dress, the warmth, the perfume, the luxu-
rious aspect of the boudoir, the silence of the hour, the mellow
light shed by a lamp placed upon the table, — all these
circumstances and influences were of themselves sufficient
to produce that effect upon a woman of glowing tempera-
ment and who had abjured all notions of prudery. But
when to these provocative and exciting causes was super-
added the fact that she had given an appointment to an
admirer, and that she was now every moment expecting this
admirer's presence, it may well be supposed that Venetia's
heart was already fluttering with desire, and that her cheeks
were flushing, her eyes looking languid, and her bosom
palpitating in the expectation of that deeper delirium and
more frenetic whirl of pleasure into which the enjoyments
of love would shortly plunge her.

But such would not have been her sensations were she
expecting the prince regent instead of Sir Douglas Hunting-
don. And here let us observe that his Royal Highness had
in reality given her no intimation, ere now in the saloon,
that he purposed to inflict his presence upon her this night;
she had merely made the statement to her husband in order
to ensure the uninterrupted privacy of her boudoir for herself
and the baronet. But now the reader will possibly ask
whether Venetia experienced any genuine or sincere
affection for Sir Douglas Huntingdon. No, not at all.
It was but a passing whim and a fantasy of the moment
that had in the first instance led her to give him the slightest
encouragement on that night when they met in the anteroom
and became companion spectators of the scene that was
passing the other side of the glass door on that occasion.
Since then she had gone on encouraging him in the fre-
quency of his visits, she had allowed him to become more and
more familiar with her, she had also permitted him to bestow
those little caresses upon her which she received without
chiding, — all this she had done, we say, simply because,
the barrier of virtue once broken down, she neither had the
courage, the inclination, nor the self-respect sufficient to
check the development of that natural wantonness which
was hurrying her on into actual profligacy. Nor was it
indeed likely that a young and lovely woman of fervid
temperament, who had abandoned herself to the prince,
whom she loathed, in order that she might further her

THE BOUDOIR 307

ambitious projects, would now hesitate to gratify a longing,
however transient it might be, in which a really handsome
and agreeable man like Sir Douglas Huntingdon was con-
cerned. Moreover, Venetia required his services in a very
important and delicate matter, and she therefore was willing
to bestow upon him the tenderest and most precious mark
of favour which a woman can possibly concede.

The reader has already seen that Venetia married Horace
Sackville rather as a matter of convenience than through any
other cause; and therefore the impression which his hand-
some person, his fascinating manners, his fine intellect, and
his ardent but short-lived devotion had made upon her during
the first two or three weeks of their engagement and mar-
riage was rather an influence acting upon the senses than
on the sentiment. It was the first stirring up and develop-
ment of those naturally strong animal passions which she
possessed; and therefore, as no deeper or more tender
or enduring tie bound her to her husband, it cannot be
astonishing that she should so soon have turned her wanton
regards elsewhere. Moreover, even if she had really and
truly loved Horace at all, this affection must naturally have
received a ruinous shock by the fact that within three weeks
after her marriage, he, the husband of this woman of tran-
scendent beauty, had permitted her to resign herself coldly,
systematically, and deliberately into the arms of the prince.
True, all this was arranged, foreknown, and agreed upon,
even before their marriage; true, it was a joint-stock patch-
work of ambitions, with deeper ramifications, however,
than the reader has yet learned, that had to be based upon
this marriage; true also, that after Venetians fall there were
occasional intervals of compunction, remorse, weepings, and
consolings, between the guilty wife and her pander-husband;
true, likewise, that their first plungings into depravity and
selfishness were characterized by occasional bursts of maudlin
sentiment as well perhaps as of that genuine feeling, which
was not altogether crushed beneath the weight of conscious
infamy. Yes, true enough were all these circumstances and
phases in the history of Horace and Venetia; but still, in
their sober and serious moments, the wife could now only
look upon the husband as the willing accomplice of her
shame, and the husband could only regard the wife as a
polluted profligate.

308 THE COURT OF LONDON

If we have paused to place all these explanatory details
upon record, it has only been for the purpose of showing that
Venetia was not likely to experience remorse or compunction
while awaiting the presence of the admirer whom she was
now expecting. On the contrary, as she lay pillowed upon
the flocculent cushions of the sofa, cradled in the soft sensu-
ousness of her own thoughts, receiving upon her slightly
clad person the warmth of that bright red fire, in an atmos-
phere flooded with the serenely mellowed light and filled
with a delicious fragrance, she seemed resolved, as it were,
to abandon herself wholly to the pleasure of the present
moment in order that she might the more deeply luxuriate
in the enjoyments that were soon to come. Thus were her
passions gradually exciting themselves and her desires
being worked up to the highest degree, not only by
the scope which she allowed her imagination to take
and the bliss in which she permitted her fancy to run
riot, but also by the surrounding influences of the
scene.

At length, when she was becoming absolutely impatient
of delay and wondering wherefore Sir Douglas Huntingdon
came not, a gentle tap at the door reached her ear and
thrilled like a galvanic flood of ecstasy through her entire
frame. She rose, she unlocked the door, and then she flew
back to the sofa, a sudden but momentary feeling of shame
seizing her at the idea of appearing in that seminude condi-
tion in the presence of one in whose embraces she was as yet
a stranger.

She heard him enter, close the door, then lock it again with
strictest caution; and a moment afterward he was by her
side, snatching her in his arms and covering her with caresses.
But heavens! what words can depict the surprise, the amaze-
ment, nay, even the consternation which seized upon her
when, instead of being strained to the breast of Sir Douglas
Huntingdon, she found herself in the arms of the Earl of
Curzon!

But at the same instant, yes, at the very same moment
that she made this discovery, did the truth flash to her
comprehension. She must have given the wrong letter to
the earl! There could be no doubt about it; it was the only
way to account for the present occurrence, and, moreover,
it was an accident that, after all, might so easily have hap-

THE BOUDOIR 309

pened, seeing that neither note was addressed to any particu-
lar individual.

Thanks to that consternation which thus seized upon
Venetia at the moment she found herself clasped in the arms
of the Earl of Curzon, she gave vent to no cry, no ejaculation;
and her presence of mind instantaneously returning, her
resolve was taken almost as soon as the discovery of the
misadventure itself was made. This resolve was to resign
herself to circumstances. Refusal would be impossible as
well as ridiculous in respect to a man who not only had her
at this instant in his power, but who doubtless could also
produce the letter in pursuance of which he had come thither.
Besides which, the ardent kisses that Curzon lavished upon
her speedily renewed those sensuous feelings which she had
herself been irritating by her imagination and fostering by
her fancy; and thus was it that in a very few moments the
earl became the object of all those desires with which the
image of the baronet had inspired her.

It was between eight and nine o'clock in the morning that
the Earl of Curzon stole forth from Venetians boudoir and
crept back to the chamber which had been allotted to him-
self. To say that he was happy were to say nothing; his
countenance was radiant with triumph. Pecuniary embar-
rassments, troubles for the present, anxieties for the future,
and the dark suspicion that still rankled in his mind relative
to his own wife, — all, all, were forgotten, all utterly lost
sight of, all absorbed, as it were, in the one grand ecstatic
reflection that Venetia, the incomparable Venetia, had aban-
doned herself to his arms.

But how strange, how passing strange was this consum-
mation, this sort of realization of the pledge which he had
made two months back when he stood in her presence at
Acacia Cottage! He had then said, " I have sworn to possess
you, and I will keep my vow. Be you guarded by all the
angels of heaven, I will invoke all the devils of hell to succour
me in carrying out my resolve." But without violence,
without craft, without the succour of any of those infernal
powers which he had threatened to enlist in his service, he
had obtained the object of his wishes. It was scarcely a
triumph; no, it was not a triumph, because there was no
preliminary resistance offered. He had been invited to take

310 THE COURT OF LONDON

possession of the citadel at a moment when he had not been
dreaming of making warfare against it; and it had surren-
dered not merely at discretion, but willingly, cheerfully,
joyfully.

Such were the earl's thoughts on regaining the chamber
which had been assigned to him. But perhaps his vanity
would have been somewhat shocked, although his sensuous
satisfaction might not have been less, had some little bird
whispered in his ear the secret that it was purely and simply
through a mistake he had been blessed with Venetians love
that night.

Immediately after the Earl of Curzon had stolen forth
from the boudoir, Lady Sackville rose from the couch of
illicit pleasure and rang the bell. Jessica speedily made her
appearance; and the business of the toilet then commenced.
Still bent upon retaining that empire which she had already
gained over the mind of Sir Douglas Huntingdon, Venetia
took considerable pains with herself in order to set off her
charms to the greatest advantage. She ordered Jessica
to allow her hair to fall in long flowing masses over her
shoulders and down her back; and she chose a dress which,
fitting close to her shape, developed its noble contours in
their luxuriant fulness and their rounded plumpness. Nor did
Jessica, who loved her mistress and was proud of her, —
more than ever proud of her, indeed, since she had become
a peeress and also the favourite of the prince regent, —
Jessica, we say, did not fail to lavish her usual praises,
encomia, and compliments upon Venetia's charms.

" Assuredly your ladyship has the finest hair I ever saw,"
observed the abigail. " Here it is a shining mass of gold
where the light falls upon it, there it is of a glossy velvet dark-
ness where the shade remains. If your ladyship were a queen,
this glorious hair would render a crown needless. And your
ladyship's neck, it is of dazzling whiteness, arching so grace-
fully, too. Permit me to arrange the body of your ladyship's
dress. There, now it exhibits the fine slope of the shoulders;
how ravishing a picture to the eyes of a male admirer! Par-
don me, my lady, for venturing the observation, but your
bust is the grandest, the finest, the most superb that
ever woman possessed. There is but one lady I ever
saw who can at all compare with your ladyship in this
respect."

THE BOUDOIR 311

" And who is that? " asked Venetia, with a smile of
ill-subdued satisfaction at her abigail's compliments.

" Lady Ernestina Dysart," responded Jessica. " But
though her bust is certainly very fine, it is not equal to your
ladyship's. And now, if your ladyship would permit me
to suggest that a fan has become an elegant appendage to
even a morning costume — "

" To be sure! — a fashion just imported from France,"
observed Venetia, as she negligently took the fan which
Jessica presented to her.

But we will not linger upon this portion of our narrative.
Suffice it to say that it was eleven o'clock by the time
Lady Sackville had finished her toilet and partaken of break-
fast; and punctually as her watch indicated that hour
was Sir Douglas Huntingdon ushered up into the boudoir.

Now be it understood that Venetia was guilty of no indis-
cretion, according to the notions then prevalent in the fash-
ionable world, in thus receiving a male visitor in her private
apartment. It was then a common custom, borrowed from
the French; and therefore Lady Sackville did not com-
promise herself before her servants by thus granting an
audience to the baronet in that boudoir.

Receiving him with the most winning and enchanting
affability, she seated herself near the toilet- table and pointed
to a chair close by, which he immediately took.

" I am punctual to the appointment with which you have
honoured — may I not rather say favoured me," he observed,
gazing tenderly upon her; and this remark was a further
proof, if any additional one were wanting, that she had made
a mistake in delivering the notes on the preceding evening.

" My dear Douglas/' she said, for the first time addressing
him thus familiarly by his Christian name, " there is nothing
you can ask of me which I will not grant, provided you
consent to do me that great and essential service to which
I alluded last night."

" Have I not declared that you may command me even
unto the very death? " exclaimed the baronet, taking her
hand and pressing it to his lips.

" Yes, yes; and I believe you," she murmured. Then
suddenly assuming a serious look, and speaking in a solemn
tone, she said, " My dear Douglas, I am about to confide to
you a secret which will prove how thoroughly I trust in your

312 THE COURT OF LONDON

honour, how completely I throw myself upon your goodness,
and how implicitly I confide in your discretion. But the
world says you are giddy, dissipated, reckless — "

" By Heaven! Venetia," exclaimed the baronet, whose
countenance had been rapidly lighting up with the most
enthusiastic joy while the lady was speaking, " think you
that I am capable of allowing any act of madness or deed
of folly on my part to entail injury upon you? No, by the
living God! I could forswear wine, pleasure, recreation, ay,
even the most innocent amusement, if I read disapproval
in a word or look of thine. Besides, a man must be the
basest of the base and the vilest of the vile who would not
do anything, — even to the making of the largest sacrifices,
— in order to merit the confidence of such a being as thou art."

" Thank you, oh, thank you, Douglas, for these assur-
ances," said Venetia, in that delicious voice which sank low,
deep, and melodious into the very depths of the soul. " And
now learn that where I give my confidence I also bestow
my love; and this love, then, as well as that confidence
I accord unto thee."

" Oh, it is for me — it is for me to express my thanks, my
illimitable gratitude, dearest, dearest Venetia! " exclaimed
Sir Douglas Huntingdon, again seizing her hand and pressing
it to his lips; then as she bent toward him, her very look and
attitude encouraged him to venture further still, and snatch-
ing her in his arms, he covered her lips, her cheeks, and
her forehead with kisses.

Gently disengaging herself from his embrace after lingering
in it a few moments, — sufficiently long, indeed, to convince
him that she resented not this liberty which he had taken,
and that he might hope in due time for the crowning favours
of her love, — Venetia said, " I will now impart to thee that
great secret which I have promised to reveal." Then, after
a brief pause, during which she reflected profoundly, she
said, " Go and unlock the ebon cabinet behind that screen,
and bring me forth the jewel-case which you will find
therein."

Thus speaking, she placed a key in the baronet's hand,
and he at once proceeded to execute her instructions. The
lock being low down in the door of the cabinet, he had
to stoop even to his knees in order to introduce the key, the
screen rendering that nook of the boudoir comparatively

THE BOUDOIR 313

dark. But at the very moment that he was thus kneeling
down behind the screen, the door of the boudoir was gently
opened and the Earl of Curzon made his appearance.

He had performed all the details of his toilet save with
respect to putting on his coat, instead of which he wore an
elegant dressing-gown that had been placed in his chamber
for his use. Now, had he entered the boudoir properly
dressed, there would not have been any impropriety or cause
of suspicion in his visit; but the fact of thus introducing
himself in a dressing-gown was naturally indicative of a
more than ordinary familiarity existing between himself
and Venetia.

Such was the thought that instantaneously flashed to her
mind as he made his appearance; and she at once, with
admirable self-possession, threw her arm over the screen
with what to Curzon seemed a mere negligent and unpre-
meditated gesture, but with a wave of her hand which to
Huntingdon behind that screen was a significant intimation
that he must remain concealed there. Keeping therefore in
his kneeling attitude, so as to continue unseen, the baronet
gently and noiselessly kissed the tips of the fingers that thus
hung over that barrier which concealed him; and this little
tender proceeding on his part was meant to convey to
Venetia not only an assurance that her hint was understood,
but that it should also be obeyed.

At the same moment — for indeed all these little details
in the embarrassing episode were the work of only an instant
— the Earl of Curzon hastened to throw himself at the feet
of Venetia, to whom he was about to pour forth his gratitude
for the hours of love he had passed in her arms; but she
suddenly checked the flood of language ere even a syllable
had time to escape his lips, for, tapping him good-naturedly
with her fan, and bending upon him an arch look, she said,
" I know you have come to bid me ' good morning/ before
you take your departure homeward; and you are now kneel-
ing at my feet in mock humility — "

" On my honour! " ejaculated the earl, somewhat sur-
prised at a tone and manner which were rather roguishly
jocular than tender and loving, as he had expected.

" Not a word, my lord! " she again interrupted him;
and with a rapid gesture she pointed toward the door,
accompanying the movement with a look suddenly and

314 THE COURT OF LONDON

earnestly significant, as if to warn him that danger was nigh
and that he was compromising her. " Yes, I know," she
continued, still in that jocular tone which she had previously
assumed, " that you are kneeling here to beg pardon for
having partaken too generously of my husband's punch.
But as I am every moment expecting a visit — from his
Royal Highness — "

The earl started to his feet ; and without uttering a word,
he pressed Venetians hand tenderly, darted upon her a look
of mingled tenderness and deep meaning, and then hurried
from the room.

An immense weight was now suddenly lifted from Venetia' s
mind, and she breathed freely once more. Her object was
gained, her purpose was won; she had not only prevented
the earl from addressing her in a manner which would betray
their amour, but she had likewise kept Huntingdon behind
the screen so that he did not observe that Curzon had on the
dressing-gown.

" Now you can come forth again, my dear Douglas,"
she said, starting from her seat and looking gaily and rogu-
ishly at him over the screen as he rose to his feet. " To tell
you the truth," she continued, " as you were behind the
screen at the moment the door opened, I thought it best
for you to remain there; hence the sudden sign which I
made you to keep concealed, for had you come forth as the
earl entered the room, he might have fancied that it was a
lover startled from his hiding-place."

" And am I not a lover? " asked Sir Douglas Huntingdon,
tenderly, as he embraced Venetia over the screen, for she gave
him those explanations with an air of such artless candour
that he did not for an instant suspect her sincerity; and,
indeed, as he had not observed that the earl was clad in a
dressing-gown, he of course saw nothing more in his visit
than the interpretation which Venetia had so artfully put
upon it at the time, namely, that he had come to bid
her " good morning " and apologize with good-humoured
gallantry for having committed such a solecism in good
manners as to drink too much punch.

" Yes, you are indeed my lover, and a beloved one also,"
said Venetia, in reply to the baronet's question. " And
now come forth from behind that screen, and bring me the
jewel-case."

THE BOUDOIR 315

The baronet did as he was desired; and Venetia, opening
the jewel-box, drew forth the packet of letters tied around
with the white ribbon, and over which we have seen her
weeping so bitterly. Unfastening the ribbon, she selected
two or three of the letters, and requested Sir Douglas Hunt-
ingdon to glance his eye over their contents. He did so;
a quarter of an hour or perhaps twenty minutes were thus
absorbed, and while he was perusing those letters, Venetia sat
pensive and mournful, watching his countenance.

" Now that you have read those letters," she said, when
Sir Douglas laid down the last one which she had given him
to peruse, " you have acquired some insight into the char-
acter of a being in whose behalf I am about to enlist your
services."

Having thus spoken, Venetia took the letters and locked
them up in her jewel-box again; then, after a long pause,
during which all her thoughts appeared to be held
in deep abstraction, she began to address Sir Douglas
Huntingdon in a low and solemn tone of confidence.

But what she then said to him, the revelations which she
made and the service which she exacted, must remain at
present a mystery to our readers; and therefore do we at
once drop the curtain upon the scene.

CHAPTER XXVII

TURN we now to one of the many handsome apartments
of Leveson House, and there we shall find the beautiful
Louisa Stanley seated in company with Lady Ernestina
Dysart.

Her ladyship was clad in the weeds of widowhood, the
sable garb becoming her admirably, and setting off the
whiteness of her polished skin with dazzling effect. She
even wore the widow's cap with a certain air of coquettish-
ness, not suffering it to conceal altogether her light brown
hair, which now, instead of showering in tresses over her
shoulders, was arranged in simple bands.

In sweet and innocent contrast with Ernestina sat the
charming and beautiful Louisa Stanley. When describing
her in an earlier chapter, we said that her cheeks were not
exactly of a rose colour, but of an animated white, so that
without being absolutely pale, they were of the delicate
bloom which deepens only through emotion or exercise into
the vermeil of the peach. Such was Louisa's complexion
then, at the time of her first introduction to the reader;
but now, alas! now it was really and truly pale, the hand of
grief having even effaced the health-tint of her youthful
bloom. Indeed, it was only necessary to look for a moment
into the depths of her blue eyes to perceive that the remorse-
less iron of care had penetrated deep, deep into her soul;
but in the pensiveness of her mien and the fixity of her
desponding gaze it was also easy to observe that a true
Christian fortitude so far attempered and restrained her
grief as to prevent it from bursting forth into frenzy or
settling down into a blank despair.

It was about midday when we find Lady Ernestina Dysart

316

THE LAMB AMONGST THE WOLVES 317

and Louisa Stanley thus seated together in one of the
elegantly furnished drawing-rooms of Leveson House. The
damsel had arrived there, in company with the marquis, on
the preceding evening; and she instantaneously became the
object of so much kind attention and sisterly regard on the
part of Ernestina, that she had already conceived a pro-
found affection for her ladyship. To one of her artless
simplicity and unsuspecting character such a sudden fancy
was natural enough; and as she had previously heard from
Lord Leveson how his niece Ernestina had very lately lost
in so shocking a manner a husband to whom she was de-
votedly attached, Louisa's sympathy was already excited
toward the afflicted lady before they even met. Indeed, the
touching and pathetic tale which the marquis had told Louisa
upon that subject was so artfully conceived as to appeal to
all the tenderest feelings of the maiden, and thus predis-
posed her naturally affectionate disposition to entertain a
deep liking for Lady Ernestina.

Thus was it that though Louisa Stanley had only been
a few hours beneath the same roof with Lord Leveson's
niece, the latter had already obtained a strong hold upon the
unsuspecting girl and had insinuated herself entirely into
her confidence. Therefore, as they now sat together, Ernes-
tina was bending the kindest looks upon Louisa and con-
versing with her in the softest and tenderest tones, while
the maiden felt as if the music of that voice, so full of angelic
commiseration and soothing gentleness, flowed like an ano-
dyne into the recesses of her wounded heart.

" My dear young friend," said Lady Ernestina, " you are
doubtless most anxious for the return of my uncle."

" Ah! dear lady," cried Louisa, " can you not understand
that I long to fold a beloved sister in my arms, — a sister
from whom I have been separated for so many months? "

" But I fear that there must be some mistake relative
to your sister's address," observed the patrician lady.
" However, we shall see in a few minutes; my uncle has been
gone nearly an hour, and we may therefore expect his return
every moment. Indeed, I wonder what keeps him so long."

" Is Stratton Street far from hence? " inquired Louisa.

" Far! " ejaculated Lady Ernestina. " Oh, no, it is not
five minutes' walk; but I had forgotten that this is the first
time you ever visited London. When you were giving me

318 THE COURT OF LONDON

that rapid outline of your history this morning, you men-
tioned the name of Beckford, and observed that your sister
was staying with a lady and gentleman of that name."

" Yes; it is not long that they have removed into Stratton
Street," returned Louisa; " they used to live at number 20,
Hanover Square."

" Number 20, Hanover Square! " ejaculated Ernestina,
stricken with surprise, and even startled by the mention of
an address which instantly conjured up fearful and mysteri-
ous associations in her mind. " That is the abode of the
Malverns! "

" But have you not in London many streets bearing the
same name? " inquired Louisa.

" Yes, to be sure; and there may be several Stratton
Streets, but certainly only one at the West End of the town.
There may also be another Hanover Square, for anything
that I know; but there is assuredly only one of that name
in the region of fashion. However, there is no doubt but
the marquis will find out your sister, whatever Stratton
Street she may be residing in."

Louisa's lovely countenance brightened up at these words,
and with a look did she thank Lady Ernestina for the assur-
ance. A brief pause then ensued in the conversation; for
Louisa began to wonder within herself whether Clara would
chide her for having so long abandoned their afflicted aunt
to the care of a comparative stranger, and for hurrying in
the first place to Paris relative to her lover, and now coming
up to London expressly to behold and embrace a sister.

On the other hand, Lady Ernestina was just thinking
how she should enter upon a certain task which her delectable
uncle had set her. For every barrier of delicate feeling and
pure sentiment was so far broken down between the uncle
and niece that they no longer sought to practise toward
each other any concealment of disposition or principles.
On the one hand, the marquis knew that his niece had been
a very profligate and abandoned demirep, first with a lover
of her own choice, then with the prince into whose arms she
was forced; he had seen her so far forget herself as to visit
a house of ill-fame in the expectation of meeting a wealthy
admirer; he knew likewise that she had actually been the
means of consigning her husband to the scaffold, whereas
she might have saved him had she chosen.

THE LAMB AMONGST THE WOLVES 319

On the other hand, Lady Ernestina had experienced
positive proof that her uncle employed a procuress, the
infamous Mrs. Gale, to entice young females to her house
in order to appease his brutal lusts. Moreover, during his
absence in Paris, and since the adventure with the Hang-
man in the treacherous chair, she had penetrated into the
gallery of paintings and sculptures, and had thus obtained
a deeper, ay, the deepest, insight into the hideous sensuality
of her uncle's character. Consquently, knowing all these
things of each other, and mutually aware, too, that all these
things were thus known, it would have been the most absurd
of mockeries to maintain any longer the semblance of deli-
cate feeling, propriety, or virtue; and therefore it seemed
as if the marquis, the moment he returned from Paris, was
fully prepared to throw off the mask altogether. Such
indeed was his intention; and such was the interpretation
that Ernestina put upon his conduct when he whispered the
following words in her ear after Louisa had been conducted
to her chamber: " I need not tell you wherefore I have
brought this girl hither. She is innocent as a lamb, and
artless as a child; it is for you to initiate her in the mysteries
of life, so that when I choose to address her in the language
of passion, she may not colour with shame, but with
desire/'

Thus had the marquis spoken to his niece on the preceding
evening, after having consigned Louisa to her care, and just
before he went to pay that visit to the prince at Carlton
House which has been mentioned in a preceding chapter.
It was a hideous thing for an uncle thus to address a niece,
a still more hideous thing that a niece should consent to
obey such instructions on the part of an uncle. And
it may seem the more dreadful, too, inasmuch as not many
weeks had elapsed since that uncle and that niece were sitting,
shamefaced and weeping, in the presence of each other, at
the mutual discoveries of frailty and demoralization which
were then made. But the instant the mask thus fell from
their countenances the barrier of delicacy was speedily
annihilated between them; and, moreover, be it observed
that in the aristocratic mind the rank weeds of vice and
crime spring up, when once they have germinated, with an
astonishing rapidity, and speedily bloom in all their poisoned
luxuriance in the heated atmosphere of fashionable life.

320 THE COURT OF LONDON

The brief pause which followed the observations relative
to Stratton Street, Hanover Square, and Louisa's sister was
interrupted by Lady Ernestina Dysart observing, " My dear
girl, I cannot suffer you to look thus dull and miserable."

" Ah! dear lady," said Louisa, with a profound sigh, " I
have so much to render me unhappy."

" Nothing, absolutely nothing," returned Lady Ernestina,
" but the loss of a young man who appears to be utterly
unworthy of the love you bestowed upon him."

" Oh, treat not the circumstance so lightly," exclaimed
Louisa, both shocked and amazed at the remark; for all
Ernestina's previous allusions to the subject had been
expressive of a tender condolence and delicate sympathy.

" Dearest Louisa," cried the artful patrician, " not for
a moment did I mean to vex or startle you; but I was merely
about to introduce a truth which you yourself will recognize
sooner or later, namely, that the self-styled Jocelyn Loftus
is not the only handsome, intelligent, and fascinating young
gentleman in the world."

" Oh, Lady Ernestina, if a stranger had made that obser-
vation to me," exclaimed Louisa, now more painfully sur-
prised and deeply shocked than at first, " I should have
regarded it either as an insult or else as a sign of unfeeling
thoughtlessness . ' '

" I am addressing you, my dear young friend," said Er-
nestina, " as a woman of the world should address a young
and inexperienced girl."

" Ah! lady," said Louisa, with a look of angelic frankness,
" never, never shall I obey the dictates of any influence save
the natural impulses of my own heart. I have loved Jocelyn
tenderly and well; and, oh, despite his deep, deep criminality,
I love him, yes, love him as tenderly and devotedly still.
But there is within me, lady, a feeling superior even to that
fond and now hopeless love of mine; and this feeling is a
sense of duty which tells me that henceforth Jocelyn must
ever remain a stranger to me in the world, no matter how
fondly his image may be cherished in my heart."

" This is the way young maidens always talk when dis-
appointed in their first love," said Ernestina, watching
Louisa's countenance attentively to see how she took the
remark, and whether it would be prudent to venture any
further at present. Then, perceiving that the damsel be-

THE LAMB AMONGST THE WOLVES 321

came thoughtful, as if weighing the matter seriously in her
mind, Ernestina continued to observe, " If you were to
remain long with us in London you would soon perceive that
what you call love performs but a very secondary part in
genteel marriages. I will give you an example. It is not two
months since the beauty of the fashionable world, Venetia
Trelawney, married a very handsome, intelligent, and fas-
cinating young gentleman named Horace Sackville. Their
honeymoon was short indeed, and at its expiration they were
suddenly created Lord and Lady Sackville. But that was
not all. His lordship was at the same time nominated to a
high official situation in the household of the prince regent;
and, accordingly, the newly married couple gave up their
beautiful villa at Knightsbridge and took possession of a
suite of apartments in Carlton House. Now Carlton House,
my dear Louisa, is the prince regent's palace; and perhaps
you may have heard that the prince regent himself is a
very naughty, wicked man, and much too fond of the ladies.
But, in plain terms, the reason why Lord and Lady Sackville
thus took up their abode at Carlton House was in order that
her ladyship might be under the same roof with the prince,
whose favourite she has become. Thus, you see, although
it is most probable that Lord and Lady Sackville married
in the first instance for what is called love, they hesitated not
to make the sacrifice of that feeling when titles, pensions,
and places were offered them. As a matter of course, then,
this Venetia of whom I am speaking to you is the mistress
of the prince — "

" Enough! enough! " exclaimed Louisa, the colour
mounting to her cheeks as her pure soul revolted from the
narrative the main point of which had only just that instant
flashed to her comprehension. " Oh, if such detestable
creatures as this Venetia constitute the charm, the glory,
and the worship of your fashionable world of London, how
little do I envy the rich and the great ones of this metropolis!
Better, better far is my own humble cottage situated in a
retired suburb of Canterbury, and more welcome to me
would prove a chaplet of the roses that bloom in summer
over that cottage portico than the most brilliant coronet
glittering upon the brow of your titled lady of the metrop-
olis."

Ernestina was about to respond to these observations,

322 * THE COURT OF LONDON

wehn the door opened and the Marquis of Leveson entered
the room.

" What tidings, my lord? " exclaimed Louisa, springing
from her seat and bounding toward him with the most eager
curiosity.

" Patience, patience, young lady," answered the noble-
man, assuming a playful manner. " Your sister Clara does
indeed reside at the address you mentioned in Stratton
Street, and also with those worthy people, Mr. and Mrs.
Beckford, whom you named."

As the marquis thus spoke, Lady Ernestina contemplated
him with the profoundest astonishment, which was not,
however, observed by Louisa, who was gazing intently upon
the nobleman, but with her suspense now relieved by a grad-
ually expanding gleam of pleasure.

" Yes," continued the marquis, in a tone which seemed
candid and frank enough to Louisa, but which nevertheless
now satisfied Ernestina that he was practising some artifice
upon the maiden, " yes, my dear girl," he continued, " I
am delighted to have ascertained for your sake that there
really is no error in your sister's address; but I am sorry
to inform you that she is out of town with Mr. and Mrs.
Beckford for a few days, possibly a week."

" Oh, how unfortunate I am! " ejaculated Louisa, a sudden
cloud lowering upon her lovely countenance, and the tears
starting forth upon her long lashes. " But are they gone
far from London? Can I not hasten after them? Oh, I feel
convinced that my sister will be so rejoiced to see me."

" Unfortunately," said the marquis, " the servants in
Stratton Street are not aware whither their master and mis-
tress, together with Miss Stanley, are gone. It is, however,
certain that they will all return home again in a week or ten
days."

" Oh, did I not say that I was unfortunate? " exclaimed
Louisa, clasping her hands together and now bursting forth
into a flood of tears. " I dare not, must not, remain away
from Canterbury; I have already deserted my poor afflicted
aunt too long. The thought of thus abandoning her fills me
with remorse; and therefore I must hasten back home, and
postpone the hope of an interview with my sister until some
more auspicious occasion."

" You have already admitted, my dear young lady,"

THE LAMB AMONGST THE WOLVES 323

said the Marquis of Leveson, " that I have given you the
best possible advice ever since you placed yourself under
my paternal guardianship. Now, I beg of you to do nothing
precipitately. You know that your aunt is kindly treated
by the young lady whom you have left to take care of her;
and therefore you would do well to remain here in London
until the return of your sister, who, depend upon it, would
never forgive you if you did not follow my advice in this
respect. My house shall be your home; and you know that
in me you possess a sincere well-wisher, although our ac-
quaintance has been so short, and although you had likewise
heard statements from the lips of Miss Mary Owen preju-
dicial to my true character."

Artless, unsuspicious, and confiding though the young
damsel naturally was, yet there was something in this speech
which displeased her. She knew not what it was that thus
seemed to grate upon some mysterious chord in her heart,
nor could she have pointed out which particular sentence
or phrase it was that excited a feeling of uneasiness within
her. But certain it was that alarming suspicions suddenly
took possession of her mind; and the moment the marquis
endeavoured to impress upon her the conviction of his
sincerity, some secret voice appeared to whisper from the
depths of her soul that he was deceiving her. The how or
the wherefore did not strike her, nor did she pause to con-
jecture; for now that the train of her suspicions was once
fired, it blazed up with astonishing speed. Back, back to her
remembrance came vividly and forcibly a thousand little
things which Mary Owen had let drop relative to the Marquis
of Leveson; she bethought herself also of a certain peculiar
expression which she had frequently noticed in the regards
that he fixed upon her when they were in Paris or travelling
together, and to her memory returned the singular discourse
in which Lady Ernestina Dysart had indulged just previously
to her uncle's entrance.

" My lord," she said, endeavouring to veil her fears and
therefore her suspicions as well as she was able, " I thank your
lordship for all the kindnesses I have experienced at your
hand; I thank her ladyship also for the generous sympathy
I have received from her during the few hours I have been
beneath this roof. But you must not deem me ungrateful
for so much hospitality, if I declare at once that I am

324 THE COURT OF LONDON

determined to leave London without delay for Canter-
bury."

" Louisa, my dear girl," exclaimed the marquis, evidently
astounded and almost dismayed by this resolve so decisively
expressed, and, at the same time, there was in his look
something so sinister that, unsophisticated as Louisa was,
she at once read therein the confirmation of her suspicions,
" you cannot think, you must not entertain — no — really,"
stammered the nobleman, " I will not permit — "

" My lord, I am determined to hasten home without
delay," interrupted Louisa, her courage rising in proportion
as her position seemed to become more menacing and
dangerous. " It is not yet an hour past noon; perhaps your
lordship will allow one of your domestics to order a post-
chaise to be in immediate attendance for me? "

" The haste, the precipitation, with which you are thus
about to depart, my dear young friend," said Lady Ernes-
tina Dysart, rising from her seat and taking Louisa's hand,
" would almost amount to an impeachment upon our hos-
pitality, or indeed a mistrust of our friendship toward you."

" Pray do not deem me" ungrateful, nor thus prejudge
my motives," said Louisa, with a telltale blush upon her
cheeks which showed that her thoughts were in reality
precisely as Ernestina had interpreted them. " Accept all
my thanks, and if you would add to the obligations which
you have imposed upon me, then suffer me to depart at once."

And having thus spoken, Louisa hastened to the bell-pull
and rang it somewhat violently.

At the same instant the marquis and his niece exchanged
rapid glances, expressive of the conviction that it was useless
to try further argument or persuasion; and then the signifi-
cant look which the nobleman assumed made Ernestina
aware that his lordship had determined upon strong and
coercive measures.

A footman promptly answered Louisa's summons; and,
in a tone of complete confidence, she said, " Will you be so
kind as to order a post-chaise to be immediately procured? "

The domestic bowed a respectful assent; but as he raised
his eyes again, at the moment of turning to quit the room,
he saw Lord Leveson shake his head at him, unperceived,
however, by Louisa, and the footman accordingly understood
that he was not to order the post-chaise.

THE LAMB AMONGST THE WOLVES 325

" With your permission," said Louisa to Lady Ernestina,
the moment the servant had retired, " I will now ascend to
my chamber and prepare for departure. "

" I will join you there in a few moments, Louisa/' was the
reply, " to see whether I can be of service to you, since you
are determined to quit us."

Louisa Stanley then left the room; and the moment the
door closed behind her, the marquis addressed himself in
hurried and excited terms to his niece.

" Ernestina/' he said, " you explained to me this morning
how, during my absence in France, a ruffian introduced
himself into this house, and how he concealed himself in my
secret suite of apartments. You likewise confessed to me
how you and the prince proceeded thither, and how you
found that burglarious villain held captive in one of my
mechanical chairs. You further told me how this man
turned out to be the public executioner, and how the
prince, with a heavy bribe, ensured his services to buoy up
Dysart till the very last moment with the hope of a reprieve."

" But wherefore, in the name of Heaven, recapitulate all
these details? " exclaimed Ernestina, surveying her uncle
with astonishment.

" Because," he responded, in a hoarse, thick voice, as
if the profound concentration of a burning passion was
impelling him into extremes at which he trembled and was
afraid, and forcing him to hold a language to his own niece
at which he was both ashamed and shocked, " because,"
he said, " since you have chosen to enter those rooms for
your own pleasure, you may now revisit them for mine; and
because, since you found seated in one of those chairs a man
who afterward helped to rid you of a detested husband, you
may now inveigle into that same chair this young girl on
whom I have set my heart."

" But, good heavens! " cried Ernestina, " she is too pure,
too innocent, and this outrage cannot be perpetrated with
impunity."

" Do not reason with me," cried her uncle, impetuously.

' You see that she is escaping from my toils, she is bent upon

leaving us, she evidently suspects something, and it is only

by clipping the angel-wings of her innocence that we can

prevent this startled dove from flying away."

" Well, be it as you will/' said Ernestina. " You doubtless

326 THE COURT OF LONDON

foresee all the consequences, and I will do as you command.
But tell me — one word — what is all this mystery about
her sister, these unknown Beckfords, and Stratton Street? "

" Oh, such a mystery, indeed, such a secret as I have
learned this day! " exclaimed the marquis. " But I cannot
explain myself now; on another occasion I will tell you all,
everything, and then you will indeed be as much astonished
as I was. But now hasten and do as I have bid you. Here
is the key of the door opening from the Crimson Drawing-
room."

Ernestina darted a look of intelligence upon her uncle as
she took the key, — a look which told him as plainly as
possible that all which depended on herself should be done
to facilitate his designs. Then, quitting the apartment
where this colloquy had taken place, she repaired first to the
Crimson Drawing-room to unlock the door leading into the
secret chambers, and then hurried up-stairs to Louisa's
room.

CHAPTER XXVIII

THE WOLVES THROWING OFF THEIR DISGUISE

IN the meantime Louisa had sought the chamber where
she had passed the preceding night, and she immediately
began to pack up her trunk for departure. Not for an instant
did she suspect that the Marquis of Leveson had dared
negative her orders to fetch the post-chaise; but still she
felt that she should breathe more freely when beyond the
threshold of this grand, aristocratic mansion, the very at-
mosphere of which seemed heavy, oppressive, and ominous
of the dead lull and stifling closeness which pervades the
outburst of the storm.

Scarcely had she finished packing her trunk when Lady
Ernestina Dysart entered she chamber.

" My dear Louisa," said the artful woman, assuming a
look of such well-feigned sorrow that the maiden was com-
pletely thrown off her guard thereby, and began to fancy
that she had wronged even the marquis himself by her sus-
picions, " my dear Louisa," repeated her ladyship, in the
most soothing, endearing, and sympathetic tone, " I am
truly vexed that you purpose to leave us thus suddenly;
but my uncle desires me to say that he will watch for your
sister's return home in company with her kind friends, Mr.
and Mrs. Beckford, and he will let you know through me
when you can come back to London with the certainty of
meeting her."

" I am truly grateful," said our heroine, " for this proof
of kind consideration on the part of his lordship and yourself."
But still Louisa spoke with a certain degree of restraint, for
she could not give facile utterance to words that came not
wholly from her heart.

" Oh, do not thank me for anything which I may do for

327

328 THE COURT OF LONDON

you," exclaimed Eernestina; " it is a real pleasure to serve
so sweet a girl as yourself. And now, my dear Louisa, as it
will be a quarter of an hour at least before the post-chaise
is ready, I have ordered refreshments to be served up in my
own chamber; and thither must you accompany me, so that
we may have a few minutes' ttte-h-tete before you leave."

This proposal was made with so much friendly candour
and winning affability that Louisa did not hesitate to accept
it. Lady Ernestina accordingly led the way first into the
Crimson Drawing-room, and thence into the adjoining apart-
ment, the elegance of which naturally excited Louisa's
admiration, notwithstanding the claims which other and far
more serious matters had upon her thoughts. But her
patrician guide did not allow her much leisure to contem-
plate this room, with its luxurious sofas ranged all around
the walls, its splendid porcelain vases exhaling delicious
perfumes, and its exquisitely chased silver lamp suspended
to the ceiling. Opening the door at the farther extremity,
Ernestina conducted the maiden into the next room, where,
as the reader will remember, the carpet was the thickest
ever trodden upon, and where the armchairs were the most
massive ever seen, — provided, too, with cushions of cor-
responding proportions.

" This is the anteroom to my own chamber," said the
false-speaking and evil-intentioned Ernestina, " and I
ordered the refreshments to be served up here. I suppose
the footman must have misunderstood me," she continued,
assuming a tone of vexation. " Sit down, my dear girl,"
she added, affably pointing to a chair, " and I will ring the
bell for luncheon."

Louisa unhesitatingly proceeded to place herself where
the treacherous lady thus pointed; but scarcely had the
young virgin's form made its imprint upon the flocculent
cushion when the sudden click of the secret mechanism was
heard, and she found herself strangely but alarmingly held
captive by means of the springs that clasped her wrists and
the steel bands that fastened their gripe upon her shoulders.

The terror of consternation for a few moments sealed
her lips; but as she beheld Lady Ernestina suddenly dis-
appear through a door which opened in the wall exactly
facing the treacherous chair, the unfortunate girl saw indeed
too well that she was betrayed, and a piercing scream burst

WOLVES THROWING OFF DISGUISE 329

from her lips. But almost immediately after Ernestina had
flitted away so abruptly, and while that rending scream
was still vibrating through the suite of rooms, the Marquis
of Leveson stood before his intended victim.

He had entered by that same door through which his niece
had fled; and closing it behind him, he at once said, in a low
but earnest tone, " Louisa, your cries are unavailing; no
mortal ear do they reach beyond the four walls of this room,
and therefore I need scarcely observe that you are in my
power."

" My lord, my lord," faltered the maiden, in a dying tone,
while her brain grew dizzy and a film came over her eyes,
" take pity upon the friendless orphan who never injured
you."

" Oh, Louisa! " exclaimed the marquis, fixing upon her
those satyr eyes that were burning with desire, " to ask
mercy for yourself is to tell me to make an impossible sacri-
fice. Listen to me, dear girl, do not despair, do not give way
to grief, do not look thus wildly, thus vaguely upon me.
You know that I bear one of the loftiest and proudest titles
in England, that my riches are immense; you have seen
enough of this mansion here to know that it is spacious and
magnificent, and I may add that in the loveliest spots of
England there are country-seats, perfect paradises in them-
selves, of which I am also the possessor. Of this lofty title,
then, will I make thee the sharer, of this wealth will I make
thee the mistress; my mansions, my domains, my rural
vilas, all shall be thine, Louisa, if thou wilt give me thy love."

Our heroine heard the tones of the nobleman's voice, but
comprehended not what he said. There was a hurry in her
brain that made her thoughts a whirlwind and threw her
senses into confusion. All she knew was that some tremen-
dous danger menaced her, and that she was sinking beneath
the weight of an ineffable consternation.

The marquis saw that she was thus overwhelmed, that her
head was drooping, and that her senses were slowly aban-
doning her; and he thought within himself, " I will not
excite nor arouse her, I will let her sink into insensibility,
and then — "

The instant Lady Ernestina Dysart had performed her
treacherous part toward poor Louisa Stanley, she disap-

330 THE COURT OF LONDON

peared from the presence of the outraged maiden in the
manner already described. The reader will have compre-
hended that she touched the secret spring and opened the
invisible door communicating with her uncle's room, where
indeed his lordship had been awaiting the issue of the ad-
venture.

Hastily telling him that the deed was done, Ernestina
traversed the bedchamber and hurried into the Crimson
Drawing-room, where she threw herself upon a sofa, palpi-
tating with excitement. For bad, depraved, and unprincipled
though she was, she nevertheless felt shocked and frightened
in the presence of this tremendous iniquity to which she had
lent herself.

Not many moments, however, did she thus give way to
her painful reflections ere she was startled by the entrance
of a footman, saying, " Sir Douglas Huntingdon requests
an immediate interview with either my lord marquis or your
ladyship."

Ernestina was about to desire the domestic to say that
neither she nor her uncle was at home, when the baronet,
who had followed close behind the footman, now walked
unceremoniously into the room.

The lackey accordingly retired; and this singular be-
haviour on the part of Huntingdon so increased, or indeed
so completely crowned Ernestina's agitation that, all woman
of the world though she was, she felt covered with confusion.

" Pardon this intrusion, my lady," said Huntingdon,
who spoke in the tone and with the air of a man bent upon
the performance of some decisive part; " but I must see
the marquis immediately."

" My uncle is particularly engaged," faltered Lady Er-
nestina, a deep blush suffusing her cheeks and running up
even unto her forehead, so that it was lost beneath the
massive bands of her light brown hair.

" If I cannot see the marquis, then," resumed Sir Douglas
Huntingdon, immediately, " your ladyship will perhaps
have the kindness to afford me an interview with Miss
Louisa Stanley, who is now staying at Leveson House."

Ernestina gave a visible start as this demand smote her
ears; and with the instinctive impulse of a guilty conscience,
she cast her eyes rapidly toward the door communicating
with the private suite of apartments.

WOLVES THROWING OFF DISGUISE 331

Sir Douglas, who was keenly alive to every look or gesture
on the part of the lady, and who saw in her increasing con-
fusion something calculated to excite the most alarming
suspicions, failed not to observe that glance which she in-
voluntarily flung toward the door. He was no stranger
to the existence of that suite of apartments. As one of the
most intimate friends of Lord Leveson, all the treacherous
or licentious mysteries thereof were well known to him;
and it was therefore natural that he should now suddenly
argue the very worst. He had been told that Leveson was
particularly engaged; his visit had evidently overwhelmed
Lady Ernestina with confusion and dismay, and that telltale
look which she had flung at the door of the private chambers
at once seemed to afford a clue to all that was passing.

" Ah! I understand," exclaimed the baronet; " my
friend the marquis is in those rooms, and as I am no stranger
to the mysteries of his mansion, I will, with your ladyship's
permission, at once seek him there."

As he thus spoke, Sir Douglas Huntingdon hastened to-
ward the door of the private apartments; but Lady Ernes-
tina sprang after him and caught him by the arm, exclaim-
ing, " No, sir, you must not intrude upon my uncle's pri-
vacy."

" I am well aware, as a matter of course," said Huntingdon,
" that my behaviour may seem somewhat extraordinary;
but it will be your ladyship's fault if it now merge into
downright rudeness.

" Rudeness! what do you mean, sir? " ejaculated Ernes-
tina, a deeper crimson than before suffusing her face, and her
eyes flashing angrily. " You surely, as a gentleman, are
incapable of rudeness toward me, a lady? "

" Then, as a lady," cried the baronet, in a stern and even
imperious tone such as perhaps he had never used in his life
before, " conduct yourself like a lady, and depend upon it
I should never dream of treating you otherwise."

" Again I demand of you, sir, what you mean by this
insulting observation? " cried Ernestina, now labouring
under a terrible excitement.

" I mean," responded the baronet, with a significance
of look and a determination of manner that made her quail
and recoil in dismay, " I mean that if you prevent me from
entering those rooms, I shall suspect that you are acquainted

332 THE COURT OF LONDON

with all the mysteries which they contain; and this will not
be highly creditable to you. Moreover, if I discover that
anything outrageous or vile is now passing in those rooms,
I shall be justified in setting you down as the accessory
and the accomplice."

Ernestina fell crushed and annihilated upon a chair,
burying her face in her hands; for it appeared to her as if
her whole heart was suddenly laid bare in its boundless
depravity to the view of that man who addressed her in a
tone of such haughty confidence, stern remonstrance, and
terrible menace.

The baronet, having thus silenced and subdued that
lady whose complicity in her uncle's licentious proceedings
was now too evident, lost no time in opening the door leading
into the secret apartments, and which Ernestina had ere
now left unlocked after conducting Louisa thither.

Meantime the Marquis of Leveson, perceiving that Louisa
Stanley was rapidly losing her consciousness, and that she
was indeed fainting in that chair which so treacherously
held her captive, stood for a few moments gloating upon
the charms of which he hoped so soon to become the master.
Her head hung down upon her bosom, of which his lustful
eyes caught a slight glimpse; and the bands, clasping her
shoulders, held her back in such a manner that, though her
charming head thus drooped like a flower on its tall slender
stalk, yet her form was retained upright in the chair. There-
fore his gaze could slowly wander over the graceful symmetry
and virgin contours of that exquisite shape, — a shape that
possessed all the light and airy elegance of the sylph, with
just sufficient fulness to denote that the last stage of girl-
hood was bursting into the luxuriant bloom and ripeness of
womanhood.

But just at the moment when the Marquis of Leveson
fancied that our heroine was sinking into a profound insen-
sibility, and while all his detestable passions were boiling
up to a frenzied degree at what appeared to be the close
consummation of his diabolical project, just at the instant,
in fact, that he believed himself to be touching on his crown-
ing infamy, Louisa appeared to be startled suddenly back
to full consciousness.

Raising her head, she gazed for a moment, a single moment,

WOLVES THROWING OFF DISGUISE 333

wildly around her; then, all the tremendous truth flashing
to her recollection and all the incidents of her position re-
curring vividly to her comprehension, she gave vent to
another loud, long, and piercing scream.

" Foolish girl! I have told thee that thy cries are vain,"
said the marquis, going straight up to her and looking her
full in the face. " Will you be mine, I say, voluntarily?
Will you yield of your own accord, and accept my hand,
my fortune, my title — "

But scream upon scream thrilled from the maiden's lips;
and the marquis, stamping his foot with rage, was bursting
forth into violent threats, when suddenly the door be-
tween this and the first room of the suite was thrown
violently open, and Sir Douglas Huntingdon sprang into
the presence of the startled nobleman and his intended
victim.

" Release this young lady immediately," exclaimed the
baronet, laying his hand upon the collar of the marquis.

" What! you, Huntingdon, thus to interfere with the
pursuits of an old friend? " faltered Leveson, not knowing
what to think of the intrusion.

" Let us not bandy words," said the baronet, sternly;
" you see that I am resolute. Come, I understand not pre-
cisely the mechanism of this chair, but I command you to
release Miss Louisa Stanley forthwith."

The nobleman saw that Huntingdon was not only in
earnest, but also fully bent upon the deliverance of the
maiden; and accordingly, with a hand trembling as if sud-
denly palsied, the marquis touched the spring which instanta-
neously released our heroine from her captivity.

Falling at the feet of Sir Douglas Huntingdon in the
enthusiasm of her joy at this sudden and providential
liberation, Louisa took his hand and pressed it with all the
fervour of her young heart's gratitude. The baronet hastened
to raise her; and fixing his eyes upon the marquis, who
stood by pale and trembling with rage, he said, " Nothing
of all this shall be known if you permit Miss Louisa Stanley
to depart from your house without any further attempt at
molestation. But if a finger be raised to impede her passage,
I will adopt any measure, no matter how much calculated to
expose you — "

" Retire then — go — depart," faltered the marquis, with

334 THE COURT OF LONDON

a strong effort to subdue the violence of his passion; " but
I beseech, I implore Miss Louisa Stanley not to betray me,
and, above all things, not to breathe a word to the ruin of
my niece."

Our heroine's heart was too full of joy at her happy de-
liverance to allow her tongue to utter a word; but Sir
Douglas Huntingdon said, emphatically, " I promise you,
Leveson, on my honour as a gentleman, that nothing of all
this shall be revealed elsewhere."

Having thus spoken, the baronet hastily conducted
Louisa Stanley into the Crimson Drawing-room, closing
behind them the doors through which they passed. Lady
Ernestina was no longer there; she had retired in shame,
terror, and grief, to her own apartment, leaving the
perplexing and menacing adventure to take its own
course.

" Miss Stanley," the baronet now said, the moment they
were together in the Crimson Drawing-room, " have the
goodness to read this note."

The damsel instantaneously took the billet which was
presented to her, and an ejaculation of joy fell from her lips
as she recognized her sister's handwriting. Tearing open
the note, she read the following words:

" 13, STRATTON STREET,

" Nov. 16, 1814.

" The bearer of this, my ever dear Louisa, is a gentleman
in whom you may confide. He will take you away from
a place where you are surrounded by manifold dangers and
will bring you at once to me.

" Your affectionate sister,

" CLARA."

Words are incapable of describing the delight and happi-
ness which now sprang up in Louisa's bosom, even to the
absorption for the time being of her grief on account of her
lover's presumed infidelity.

" Then my sister, my beloved sister, is indeed in town,"
she exclaimed, " and the marquis deceived me."

" No, Miss Stanley, he did not altogether deceive you/'
answered the baronet; " for if he had not called in Stratton
Street ere now, your sister could not, of course, have known

WOLVES THROWING OFF DISGUISE 335

that you were at Leveson House or even in London at all.
But the truth is this: your sister was indeed absent from
town with Mr. and Mrs. Beckford, but she came back
suddenly and alone, in order to execute some little commis-
sion for Mrs. Beckford. She arrived in Stratton Street only
a few minutes after the marquis had left. Knowing his evil
reputation, she was shocked and horrified at the idea of her
sister being beneath his roof; and as I happened to call at
the moment, she besought me to come with this note which
you have just read. My carriage is at the door, and so soon
as you are ready, I shall have much pleasure in escorting you
to Stratton Street."

Louisa hastened up-stairs for her bonnet and scarf, with
which she speedily returned to the Crimson Drawing-room,
well pleased at encountering neither the marquis nor Lady
Ernestina upon the stairs. Having rung the bell, she ordered
the footman who answered the summons to have her trunk
taken down to the baronet's carriage, which was waiting
at the door; and when, in a few minutes, the domes-
tic announced that her commands had been executed,
she accompanied Sir Douglas Huntingdon from Leveson
House.

And now who can describe the feelings of this young,
beautiful, and artless girl as she took her seat in the vehicle
which was to convey her to that sister from whom she had
been separated for five long months? Yet while rolling
along in the handsome equipage, she did not forget to renew
her thanks to Sir Douglas Huntingdon for the immense
service which he had rendered her; but he assured the
charming girl that he was only too happy in having arrived
at Leveson House so seasonably as to rescue her from the
peril in which the darkest and deepest treachery had placed
her. Indeed, to tell the truth, as Sir Douglas Huntingdon
contemplated with respectful admiration the lovely damsel
by his side, he could not help thinking that there was even
in the world a pleasure more genuine and more sweet than
to triumph over innocence, — namely, to rescue it from
impending ruin.

But neither the baronet nor Louisa had many minutes for
reflection or conversation, inasmuch as the carriage soon
dashed up to the door of a handsome house in Stratton
Street; and looking forth from the window of the vehicle,

336 THE COURT OF LONDON

our heroine beheld the countenance of her sister at one of
the casements of the drawing-room.

In another minute Louisa was clasped — firmly, fondly
clasped — in the embrace of that affectionate sister; and not
only their kisses but also their tears were mingled.

CHAPTER XXIX

THE SISTERS

THE drawing-room where the sisters thus met was very
handsomely furnished, and bore all the evidences of a refined
female taste. It was the same room where Jocelyn Loftus
had seen Clara Stanley on the occasion of his visit to London,
and where she had given her approval of his suit in respect
to Louisa.

The sisters were now alone together; for Sir Douglas
Huntingdon had not followed our heroine up into that room,
but remained in an apartment below. When the first effusion
of joy was over, and the first transports of delight at this
meeting were somewhat subsided, Clara and Louisa sat
down side by side upon the sofa, and began to contemplate
each other with the deepest, tenderest interest.

On the one hand, Clara beheld her younger sister beautiful
as ever, and with all that ineffable sweetness of look and
innocence of mien which indicated the stainless purity of her
soul. She saw her, too, at great advantage, for the pallor
and the pensiveness previously occasioned by Jocelyn's
supposed perfidy had now yielded to the roseate tinge of joy
and the brightness of look which reflected the heart's holiest
satisfaction. Clara therefore beheld her sister lovely and
lovable as she was when they parted, — one of the chastest
and most charming ornaments which the sex ever bestowed
upon this world, an incarnation of all the sweetest, truest,
and most ethereal attributes which piety or poesy ascribes
unto angels.

On the other hand, Louisa beheld her sister more grandly
beautiful, more superbly handsome than when they parted
under the rose-covered portico of their Kentish cottage. She
saw in Clara a magnificent woman the glory of whose charms

337

338 THE COURT OF LONDON

seemed to have expanded into a finer and more dazzling
bloom in the hothouse of London fashion. Nor less did it
strike Louisa that everything at all girlish which might have
lingered in the manners or looks of Clara some months back
had now totally departed. The finest gloss of courtly ele-
gance seemed to rest upon her like a charm and hang about
her like a spell; there was a grandeur in every movement,
a brilliancy in every gesture, softened and subdued only by
the polish of an exquisite refinement, and more so by the
tenderness of feeling which she now experienced at this
meeting with her sister. In a word, our fair young heroine,
although she had ever been accustomed to look up to Clara
as an elder sister, now regarded her with the deference that
mingles in the affection which a daughter experiences for
a mother. For Louisa still felt herself a mere girl; whereas
Clara looked in every respect not only the brilliant woman,
but also the great lady. Thus Louisa, with her nineteen years
and a half, felt as if she were a miss of fifteen or sixteen in
the presence of this elder sister, who, though only twenty-one
and a half, possessed all the worldly demeanour as well as
the luxuriance of charms which characterize the superb
matron of at least five or six years older.

Such were the impressions respectively made by this
meeting of the sisters; and when they had gazed long and
with earnest fondness upon each other, Louisa suddenly
exclaimed, " Oh, Clara, are you angry with me for having
abandoned my home, for having gone to Paris, and now for
having come up to London? "

" Do not talk of anger, dearest girl," said Clara, " while
our hearts are yet throbbing with all the first transports
of joy at this meeting. Angry with you, dearest Louisa!
No, no, it were impossible. Not for worlds would I bring
a tear into your eyes or change into gloom those smiles which
now gleam so sweetly upon your lips. Ah! dearest Louisa,
it is as if I were thy mother instead of thy sister that I am
now talking to thee; and it is with such a feeling that I
rejoice, oh, I rejoice unfeignedly, to be enabled to pour balm
into thy wounded heart."

" Oh, dearest Clara," interrupted Louisa, surveying her
sister with mingled amazement and suspense, " to what do
you allude? Alas! you cannot as yet know my sorrows;
because, when I sat down in Paris to commit them to paper

THE SISTERS 339

and sen 1 you an account of all that had occurred, the pen
dropped from my hands. Yes, vainly did I commence letter
after letter; each fresh attempt only rendered my heart's
wounds more painful; it was like pouring molten lead upon
the seared and lacerated flesh. Pardon me, therefore, dear
sister, for having thus preserved a silence which may seem
unkind, nay, even improper —

" Enough, enough, dearest Louisa," exclaimed Clara,
throwing her arms around her young sister's neck and
drawing down that innocent head until it reposed upon her
bosom; " from your lips I need no apology, no excuse,
especially as I am well acquainted with much that has
occurred. And to keep you no longer in suspense, let me
assure you that Jocelyn is innocent."

" Innocent! " echoed Louisa, her own sweet lips thus
repeating in ecstatic joy an assurance which other sweet
lips had just breathed in tenderness; " innocent! " she
repeated, raising her head suddenly from her sister's bosom,
her looks beaming and glittering with mingled joy, hope,
and suspense. " Oh, if this were true, if this were true! "
and she clasped her hands with a gesture expressive of in-
effable emotions.

" It is as I assure you, my beloved sister," rejoined Clara
Stanley. " I would not deceive you for a moment in such
a case; no, not for worlds would I deceive you where your
heart's best and purest affections are engaged."

" Oh, this is happiness, this is happiness indeed! " mur-
mured Louisa; and flinging herself into her sister's arms,
she wept tears of love and gratitude and joy upon her
bosom.

" Dear Louisa, this is the sweetest moment that I have
experienced for months past," murmured Clara, in a voice
that was tremulous and low.

And then she also wept; but we cannot say whether the
tears that now streamed down her cheeks welled forth from
feelings as unalloyed with pain and as unmixed with self-
reproach as those which her sister experienced, — that fair,
bright, and innocent sister whose tears were moistening
Clara's heaving breast with their crystal purity.

" And are you sure, very sure of all this, dearest Clara? "
inquired Louisa, again raising her head and bending upon
her sister a countenance beaming with smiles of innocence

340 THE COURT OF LONDON

and delight. " But, oh, yes, I see that you are confident,
and I will not ask you to repeat your assurance."

" Rely upon what I say, dearest Louisa,7' answered Clara.
" If I were not thus confident upon the subject, I would not
for a moment venture the assertion ; if a doubt existed in my
mind, I would rather have left you in the belief of your
lover's infidelity than encourage a hope which, after all, might
turn out to be delusive. Not only is your lover innocent,
dearest Louisa, but he is one of the most injured and perse-
cuted of men in all that concerns his imprisonment in the
prefecture of police, and one of the most virtuous and
honourable of young men in all that regards his fidelity to-
ward you and the temptations to which he has been sub-
jected."

" Oh, Jocelyn, Jocelyn! to think that I should have
mistrusted thee so profoundly! to think that I should have
wronged thee so immensely! " murmured Louisa, shaking
her head in despair. " And yet Heaven knows that the cir-
cumstantial evidence which told against thee, Jocelyn, was to
all appearances crushing and overwhelming. For did not
the prefect himself assure me of dreadful things? Did I not
behold with my own eyes a scene too well calculated to
make me mistrust thee? Did I not even hear that female's
voice proclaim her love for thee? "

" Ah! now, my dearest Louisa," exclaimed Clara, " you
are torturing yourself with misgivings, in spite of the cer-
tainties which I have breathed in your ears. It is true that I
am not acquainted with all the minute details of these mat-
ters to which you are alluding; but in general terms I can
assure you that your lover is innocent, that he is even of the
most rigid virtue, that his purity is incorruptible, and that
whatever complexion circumstantial evidence may have
been made to assume against him, he will be enabled to
clear up everything."

" But one word more, Clara," exclaimed Louisa; " one
word more, and then farewell to all misgivings. Is he really
living under a false name? "

" Yes, that most assuredly he is," exclaimed the elder
sister; " and to his honour and credit is this very fact which
has been made not only the cause of his arrest, but also one of
the grounds of his reproach. But I shall leave to him,
Louisa, when the time comes, the duty of explaining to you

THE SISTERS 341

wherefore he has assumed this name of Joeelyn Loft us, and
what his real name is. For I feel assured that these revela-
tions will flow more sweetly upon your ears and sink down
more deliciously into your heart when coming from the lips
of a lover, even than from those of a fond and affectionate
sister. And now one word more relative to Joeelyn, as we
must still continue to call him — "

" Oh, what else have you to say upon this subject? "
asked Louisa, with renewed suspense.

" That in a short time, a very short time, I hope, he will
be free," returned Clara. " Indeed, I am convinced that he
will soon be liberated; and then, dear girl, he will no doubt
rejoice to give you all those explanations which must trium-
phantly prove his own innocence and dispel all the mis-
givings that still perhaps lurk in the depths of your soul."

" He will be free — oh, heavens! that there may be no
disappointment or delay in the fulfilment of this hope! "
exclaimed Louisa, once more clasping her hands and now
gazing upward with a fervid enthusiasm, so that it was easy
to perceive that in the depths of her soul she prayed to
Heaven to verify her sister's assurance.

" Whatever I tell you, dearest Louisa, you may rely
upon," rejoined Clara. " And now that I have relieved you
from so much anxiety and changed your sorrow into heartfelt
joy, you must give me all the particulars of what has occurred
to you relative to that journey to Paris and this visit to
London."

" I will tell you everything, dear sister," answered the
young maiden. " You are well aware, from the letters which
I have so constantly written to you, that in the month of
September Joeelyn brought Miss Mary Owen with him
from London and desired that she might find a home at the
cottage? "

" Yes, while he proceeded to the Continent," said Clara,
taking up the thread of her sister's discourse, " in order to
defeat certain machinations which had been devised against
the Princess of Wales, and in which the Owen family was
concerned. On all these points your letters were explicit
enough."

" And I also told you," continued Louisa, " that Joeelyn
wrote to me a letter full of love and tenderness from the
French capital, stating how he had arrived there in due

342 THE COURT OF LONDON

course and how he had fallen in with Mary's three sisters
at Calais, whom he had escorted to Paris. I answered his
welcome epistle; and he wrote to me another as affectionate
as the first. But that was the last letter which I received
from him, and then his correspondence suddenly ceased.
This was at the end of September."

" And throughout the month of October," observed
Clara, " your letters to me were mournful indeed. You
seemed to fancy that your lover had altogether abandoned
you — "

" No, no, dearest Clara," exclaimed Louisa, blushing.
" I did not then suspect his fidelity; but I was afraid, indeed,
I was haunted with the idea, that some terrible calamity
had overtaken him."

" Well, and did I not send you all the consolation in my
power? " asked Clara; " did I not conjure you to cherish
hope and avoid despair, — although at the time Heaven
knows that I was utterly ignorant of what had really become
of your lover."

" Had it not been for your soothing and consolatory
letters," said Louisa, " I should have become delirious
with anguish, or else have been plunged into a blank despair.
Well, in this manner did the month of October pass mourn-
fully on; and just as it was drawing to a close, I received a
letter, dated from Paris, and stating that it was of the
highest consequence to me to repair thither without delay
in order to learn certain calamitous truths relative to Jocelyn
Loftus. That letter, which bore the signature of ' An Un-
known Friend/ desired me to proceed at once to the British
consul on my arrival in Paris, and he would give me further
information. Conceive, my dear Clara, the state of mind
into which this letter threw me; and, oh, you were not nigh
to counsel me. I felt that it was wrong to leave our poor aunt
to the care of a comparative stranger; but, on the other hand,
it would have been madness or perhaps death for me to
have remained at home, a prey to the most excruciating
suspense."

" Poor girl! " said the elder sister, hastily wiping her eyes.
" No, I was not there to succour you with my advice, al-
though I ought to have been. But go on, Louisa, go on,"
she repeated, with a sort of nervous impatience. " I can
understand full well how it was that you yielded to the

THE SISTERS 343

impulse of your feelings and resolved upon repairing to
Paris. Under the circumstances I should have done the
same; and therefore I do not blame you."

" Thank you, dear sister, thank you for that assurance,"
exclaimed Louisa, smiling through the tears which had
started forth upon her lashes as she spoke of her aunt. " Yes,
it is as you have said. Driven wild with fearful misgivings,
half-frenzied and delirious, hurried along, as it were, by an
overwhelming torrent of feeling, I became powerless for
anything like calm deliberation. Mary Owen promised to
bestow the most unwearied attention upon my aunt, and to
take my place in all tender ministrations toward her. I
knew that my young friend was kind-hearted, affectionate,
and sincere, and I entertained not the slightest apprehension
that our afflicted relation would experience neglect at her
hands. Thus, after a few very brief preparations, my
departure was taken hurriedly; and without any adventure
worth relating, I arrived safely in Paris. Immediately on
reaching the French capital, I repaired to the British consul;
and when I mentioned my name, he treated me with a kind-
ness of manner so fully reassuring and even paternal that
I was struck with the idea that he himself must be the author
of the letter which was signed by an unknown friend. But
in this respect I was speedily undeceived; for, after a few
observations to the purport that an excellent and kind-
hearted English nobleman was really the author of that
letter, and was interesting himself in my behalf, the consul
directed me to a hotel close at hand, where I was to inquire
for the Marquis of Leveson. You may well understand, my
dear Clara, that the moment this name struck upon my
ears it carried a vague and unknown terror into the depths
of my soul ; for although I had heard but little of this noble-
man from the lips of Mary Owen, yet this little was not in
his favour."

Here we must pause for a moment to remind our reader
that when Jocelyn had introduced Mary Owen to the cottage
at Canterbury, he had carefully forborne from mentioning
to Louisa anything beyond the mere outline of the atrocious
conspiracy that was afoot against the Princess of Wales.
Especially did he avoid alluding to the infamous means
which had been adopted to demoralize the minds of the
fair daughters of Mrs. Owen; and Mary herself, with a proper

344 THE COURT OF LONDON

feeling of delicacy, never subsequently enlightened Louisa
in that respect. Thus the reader will understand that when
Louisa heard the name of the Marquis of Leveson mentioned
by the British consul, she knew nothing of the worst phases
of his character, but only that he was one of the prince
regent's confederates in respect to the conspiracy against the
Princess of Wales. These circumstances being duly borne
in mind, it will be the more easy to comprehend the ensuing
details of Louisa Stanley's narrative.

" Yes, on hearing that name of Leveson/ ' she continued,
after a brief pause, " I felt that it was indeed probable he
might know something of Jocelyn and of Jocelyn's proceed-
ing, since his lordship was so intimately connected with the
machinations and designs of the prince and so well acquainted
with the Misses Owen. Therefore, after thanking the Brit-
ish consul for his kindness, I at once repaired to the hotel
which he had named; and on inquiring for the Marquis of
Leveson, I was introduced to his presence. If you have ever
seen him, Clara — "

" Yes, — I — I think I must have seen him," observed the
elder sister, with a slight appearance of confusion. " But
go on. What were you about to say? "

" I was on the point of observing that his lordship is an
elderly, if not an old man/' continued Louisa, " and his age,
added to the paternal kindness with which he received me,
naturally inspired me with confidence. Besides, I was too
anxious to be relieved of my dreadful suspense relative to
Jocelyn to give way to much misgiving on my own account;
and as he doubtless saw by my looks how torturing that sus-
pense was, he at once entered on the painful topic alluded
to in his pseudonymous letter. After a suitable preface, he
proceeded with every appearance of gentleness and con-
siderate caution to unfold a long tale of charges and accusa-
tions against poor Jocelyn. Thus at his very first words
I was so far relieved as to learn that the object of my affec-
tions had neither sustained personal injury nor was dead,
between which calamities my frenzied fancy had been cruelly
alternating. But, oh, if I were indeed relieved from that
poignant suspense and excruciating alarm, it was only to
hear sufficient to prove, as I then thought, that henceforth
Jocelyn was unworthy of the love which I had bestowed
upon him. Nevertheless I could not, I would not, I dared

THE SISTERS 345

not, put implicit faith in the bare word of the Marquis of
Leveson, without corroboration and without proof. Nor
did he for a moment appear to believe that I should rest
satisfied with mere statements unsupported by evidence.
He assured me that his only aim was to save me from becom-
ing the victim of an adventurer, and that his conduct toward
me was inspired by the feelings which a father might cherish
toward a daughter. In a word, my dear Clara, he spoke
so kindly, so reasonably, and so conscientiously, to all
appearance, and then, too, I was so very, very unhappy, so
lonely, and so much in want of a friend and adviser, that I
readily promised to be guided by his counsel. He bade me
remain at the hotel, assigning me to the care of the land-
lady and her daughters, who were worthy people, and seeing
that I was unhappy, did their best to console me in my
affliction. To be brief, the marquis took me late that same
night in his carriage to the prefecture of police; and there,
as it appeared to me, I received the fullest, the cruellest, and,
oh, the most fatal confirmation of all that his lordship had
previously told me."

Louisa Stanley now related to her sister the details of all
that she had heard or seen at the prefecture of police, and
which are already well known to the reader.

" My dearest girl," said Clara, " I have already told you
that your intended husband does really bear a false name,
but that he has assumed it through no dishonourable motives.
Therefore, the entry in the prefect's Black Book is virtually
nothing more or less than a record of a base pretext for a
most arbitrary arrest. That the prefect should have repeated
to you the calumnies previously levelled against Jocelyn
by the Marquis of Leveson can be explained either by sup-
posing the French functionary to be as vile as the English
nobleman himself, or else to have been easily misled and
deceived by that nobleman. Then, with regard to the third
incident which appeared to you a corroborative proof of
Jocelyn's perfidy, namely, the occurrences of the prison-
chambers, all this doubtless arose from circumstances pur-
posely arranged and cunningly combined at a special mo-
ment to produce particular effects. There was an aperture,
you say, in the wall between two chambers, and you were
led to believe that this aperture had been formed as a means
of communication and intercourse between Jocelyn and

346 THE COURT OF LONDON

the female captive who was his neighbour. But, ah! Louisa,
did you pause to ascertain that Jocelyn was a guilty wretch
instead of a victim, the creator of the circumstances in which
you found him placed or the victim of them? In fine, had
he invited that female to his chamber, or had she forced
herself upon him? You tell me that when you heard him
speak within that second chamber whence the light streamed
through the aperture, his words were an ejaculation to the
effect that he should be driven mad. But was that the cry
of love or of despair? Was that the language of a passion
traitorous to you, or of a bitter persecution endured by him-
self? And then, that response from the female to the effect
that she loved him and that he knew she thus loved him, —
might it not have been addressed to him as a reproach and
a remonstrance for coldness, aversion, or inaccessibility on
his part? Depend upon it, Louisa, as I ere now said, Jocelyn
will give, when you meet again, the fullest and most satis-
factory explanations upon all these points."

" Yes, dearest Clara," answered Louisa, in a voice tremu-
lous with emotion, " I indeed see all those incidents in a
new light. But what could I think of them at the time?
Oh, I was stricken down as if the hand of death had suddenly
been laid upon me; I was borne away from the spot, and
for several days I remained in a state of delirium at the hotel.
But the kindest attentions were shown me by the landlady,
her daughters, and the medical attendant; and thus, when
my mind began to emerge from the wild confusion of its
ideas, I found myself the object of the tenderest solace and
sympathy. I wished to hasten back to England, to return
home; but the marquis represented to me the impossibility
of my travelling in the nervous and excited condition that
I then was, and this representation was warmly seconded
by the worthy females to whose care I was assigned. Weak
as I was in body and attenuated as I felt in mind, I was
overpersuaded without much difficulty. And I have
already told you, Clara, how vain were the attempts I made
to commit my woes to paper and correspond with you.
Thus did day after day pass; and all this while the conduct
of the marquis was so kind, so respectful, and at the same
time so fatherly, that I felt assured his character must either
have been mistaken or unjustly treated by Mary Owen.
To be brief, I experienced the deepest gratitude toward

THE SISTERS 347

his lordship; I felt that I was indebted to him for being
rescued from the snares and influences of an adventurer.
But, oh, while thus I thought in a strain so depreciatory
of poor Jocelyn, the scalding tears flowed down my cheeks
and I felt as if my heart would burst. It was a relief for me
to quit Paris, that place which appeared to be the scene of
the fatal rock on which all my fondest hopes were ship-
wrecked. The marquis, with a delicacy which entirely
confirmed the good opinion I had recently been forming
of him, arranged that the landlady's eldest daughter should
accompany us as far as Dover, so that I might not be left
without female society during the journey. On arriving
at Dover, this young Frenchwoman left us to return to Paris,
liberally rewarded by the marquis. Up to this moment,
Clara, the idea of proceeding to London had never entered
my mind. But as I was journeying with the marquis from
Dover to Canterbury, he represented to me the propriety
and even the necessity of consulting my sister, — yourself,
beloved Clara, — and pouring my sorrows into her bosom
after all that had occurred. Ah! need I tell you, need I
assure you that it required but little argument to persuade
me in the adoption of this course? I nevertheless insisted
upon halting at Canterbury to assure myself that our
afflicted aunt was properly cared for. ' Mary Owen/ then
said the marquis, ' is deeply prejudiced against me, and
fancies that I am engaged in a conspiracy which has no
other existence than in her own imagination. She will
therefore believe, if you tell her you are travelling with me,
that I shall snatch her away from her present retreat and
bear her back to her mother. But as I do not wish to inter-
fere with the poor girl, it will be needless for you to create
any alarm in her mind. Would it not, then, be prudent
to forbear from mentioning my name to her at all? ' I
yielded to these representations, which appeared to me so
natural at the moment; and, besides, my mind was so
attenuated that I really had neither the courage nor the
power to think for myself, and was therefore easily led to
follow any advice that was given to me at the moment by
one whom I deemed a friend. I went to the cottage; I
learned privately from the faithful servant-girl that Mary
Owen had filled my place with the utmost tenderness toward
my afflicted aunt, and Mary Owen herself gave me the

348 THE COURT OF LONDON

assurance that she had neglected nothing in the fulfilment
of the duty entrusted to her. Few and rapid were the words
that passed between us. I told her that Jocelyn was faithless
to me, and a mere adventurer in society. I told her also
that her sisters had proceeded to join the Princess of Wales
in Italy; and I assured her that I had the best possible means
for believing that the conspiracy against that august lady
had in reality no actual existence. Mary Owen was aston-
ished at this declaration on my part; she shook her head
gloomily, but evidently was at a loss what to think. I told
her to suspend all opinion until my return from London,
when I would enter into the fullest and minutest details.
Then, after this flying visit to the cottage — a visit which
lasted for a brief half-hour — I returned to the Fountain
Hotel, where the Marquis of Leveson's carriage had stopped.
Our journey was then pursued toward London, where we
arrived last evening."

Louisa Stanley now proceeded to relate the treatment
she had experienced at Leveson House, — how the marquis
and Ernestina had suddenly thrown off the mask, and how
the seasonable and sudden arrival of Sir Douglas Hunting-
don had saved her from the treachery and outrage which the
profligate nobleman had dared to contemplate. The elder
sister was more than indignant, she was positively enraged
at hearing this recital of the crowning dangers through which
Louisa had that morning passed, and she murmured to
herself, " Lord Leveson shall repent of this black atrocity! "

" And now, dearest Clara," said Louisa, throwing her
arms around her sister's neck, and gazing upon her with
all her young heart's innocent and enthusiastic devotion,
" tell me, dearest Clara, are you yourself happy? Do you
like the gaiety and bustle of the metropolis, or do you long to
return to the peaceful retreat at Canterbury? Tell me, in
fine, all, everything that regards you."

1 Yes, dearest Louisa," answered Clara, embracing her
fondly, " I will tell you everything, and you will perceive
that I have all possible reason to be happy. In fact, dearest
Louisa, if I have kept until some such occasion as this, —
I mean, until we should thus meet and I could speak to you
concerning many, many things which I could not so well
have committed to paper, — if I have kept all this till now,
I say, you will not be angry."

THE SISTERS 349

" Ah! my dearest sister, you have made me so happy/'
cried Louisa, " by your assurances relative to Jocelyn, that
I am in a humour to behold everything in this world in the
brightest and gayest colours. Yes, a roseate atmosphere now
appears to surround me, displacing the murky mist in which
I have been living, breathing, moving, and also losing
myself, as it were, for the last fortnight. Tell me, then, that
you are happy, dearest Clara; and that assurance, coming
from your lips, will enhance, oh, unspeakably enhance, the
joy which I myself now feel. Yes, and I shall be the more
happy, too, if it be possible, because such assurance will
convince me that you, my dearest sister, have not experi-
enced the blighting, withering influence of that atmosphere
of fashion in which you have been moving."

" What mean you, Louisa? " asked Clara, gazing upon
her sister with so singular an expression that had the young
maiden been more experienced in the world's ways, and more
deeply read in the science of the human heart, she would
immediately have felt uneasy, perhaps dismayed, by that
look which Clara fixed upon her.

" I mean," responded the artless, innocent, unsuspecting
girl, " that Lady Ernestina Dysart drew ere now such a
shocking picture of fashionable life that she made me
shudder."

" Ah! what did she tell you? " inquired Clara.

"Oh, it was indeed very shocking," answered Louisa,
" and filled me with a sudden aversion for what is called
the fashionable world. Lady Ernestina spoke to me of
a certain celebrated beauty — I forget her name at this
moment — "

" Try and remember," said Clara, throwing her arm in
such a way around Louisa's neck that she drew the young
virgin's beauteous head down upon her own fine bust.

" Oh, I recollect now," cried Louisa; " it was Venetia
Trelawney."

" Ah! " said Clara. " And what did Lady Ernestina tell
you about her? "

" That she was as depraved as she was beautiful," replied
Louisa, whose cheek still remained pillowed against Clara's
bosom. " But doubtless you are acquainted with every-
thing regarding this Venetia, since her story appears to be
the topic of the fashionable world. Only conceive such

350 THE COURT OF LONDON

dreadful depravity as to marry a young, handsome, and
clever man, and immediately after the honeymoon lend a
willing ear to the improper overtures of that wicked, wicked
man the prince regent! Oh, Clara, if you ever meet this
Venetia, — or Lady Sackville, as I believe she is now called,
- I do sincerely hope you will never speak to her. It posi-
tively makes my cheeks glow with indignation and also with
shame when I think that the entire sex to some extent shares
in the infamy of such creatures. Ah! and your cheeks glow
also, my beloved Clara/' exclaimed the beauteous girl,
suddenly raising her head and observing the deep carnation
which overspread her sister's countenance. " Oh, I was
well aware that your noble heart would feel as indignant
and also as humiliated as I, to think that the name of woman
should be disgraced by such a shameless profligate as that
Venetia."

" Let us talk no more of this/' said Clara, the deep car-
nation hue suddenly sweeping away from her cheeks and
leaving them very pale. " Yes, yes, the atmosphere of
London is indeed unfitted for a flower of innocence and
purity such as thou, and therefore must we part soon, dear
sister, and you must lose no time in returning to Canterbury.
Sir Douglas Huntingdon's carriage will take you to Black-
heath or Dartford, where you can obtain a post-chaise;
and as it is now but two o'clock, you will reach Canterbury
to-night ere it be very late."

" You seem, dear Clara, as if you wished to hurry me
suddenly away? " said Louisa, the tears rolling down her
cheeks.

" No, do not think me unkind, my sweet sister," returned
Clara; " but I feel that London is not fitted for you. Oh,
no, it is not fitted for you — and God in His mercy forbid
that it ever should be," added Clara, with a strong emphasis.

" Well, dear sister," observed the younger girl, as she
wiped away her tears, " I will do as you desire. But recol-
lect that you have not as yet told me one word relative to
yourself; and you ere now led me to believe that you had
many things to tell me, — yes, even secrets, which you had
not chosen to commit to paper, but for which you awaited
the opportunity of our meeting."

" Oh, I have nothing to tell you of such great importance
as you seem to imagine," said Clara, with a smile, which did

THE SISTERS 351

not, however, appear to take its inspiration from the full
glow of a heart's unalloyed happiness. " You know that
fond, loving, and affectionate sisters such as we are always
have a hundred little trifles and sweet nothings to tell each
other, and which they treasure up for the day of meeting."

" Then you have really nothing of importance to tell me? "
said Louisa, with a tone and look of disappointment. " I
thought you were perhaps going to reveal to me some matters
indicative of your own complete and consummate happi-
ness."

" No — that is to say — I mean yes," ejaculated Clara,
somewhat falteringly; then, in a hurried tone, she added,
" But I have already told you, by the bye, in my letters,
that my dear kind friends, the Beckfords, have adopted me
as their daughter, and intend to leave me all their
fortune."

" Yes, you have already told me this," said Louisa, " and
I have congratulated you in return; for of course you are
well aware, Clara, that your happiness is as dear to me as
my own, or even dearer, for I would endure anything sooner
than be compelled to hear that you were unhappy."

" Dear Louisa, dear, dear girl," cried Clara, embracing
her fervidly and fondly; " and be assured, oh, be assured
that I entertain precisely the same feeling for you. But we
must now part, Louisa, we must indeed; for it is time that
you should return homeward, and I am also compelled to
leave town again immediately to rejoin Mr. and Mrs. Beck-
ford, otherwise I would accompany you part of the distance.
But I repeat, Sir Douglas Huntingdon will escort you in his
carriage as far as Blackheath, or perhaps Dartford, where he
will see you safe in a post-chaise."

The sisters now separated with many reiterated embraces,
and also with many, many tears; and once more was Louisa
consigned to the care of Sir Douglas Huntingdon. We
need only add that the baronet fulfilled his mission with
delicacy and fidelity. He escorted her to Dartford, where
he procured a post-chaise for her accommodation; and on
parting from the lovely girl he experienced a sensation of
ineffable joy to think that he had never once regarded her
otherwise than with the utmost respect. 'Tis said that the
lion crouches at the feet of a spotless maiden; and assuredly
the gay libertine, the lion of human society, acknowledged the

352 THE COURT OF LONDON

power of virtue and the empire of innocence on the present
occasion.

Louisa reached home between ten and eleven o'clock at
night, without experiencing any further adventure worthy
recording; but it was far otherwise with Sir Douglas Hunt-
ingdon, as will appear in the following chapter.

CHAPTER XXX

SHOOTER'S HILL

HAVING acquitted himself thus honourably of the duty
confided to him, the baronet remained to dine at the prin-
cipal hotel at Dartford; and as his horses had done good
service during the day, they required ample leisure for bait
and rest. He did not therefore hurry himself as to the hour
of departure; and, moreover, he fell in with agreeable com-
pany in the coffee-room of the tavern. For there had been
a steeplechase in the neighbourhood in the morning; and
several sporting characters who had taken part in the
barbarian " amusement " were now winding up the day's
diversions with a good dinner and a jovial glass at the hotel.
The baronet, who liked such company and loved his bottle
also, was therefore induced to remain with the convivialists
until a somewhat late hour; indeed, it was considerably past
ten o'clock when he ordered his carriage to be got ready,
and another half-hour elapsed ere he had finished his wine,
paid his bill, and set out on the journey homeward.

The footman who was in attendance on the vehicle sat
next the coachman on the box; and as the night was very
dark, the carriage-lamps had been lighted. But a dense
mist, arising from the Thames, was borne by a sluggish
northerly breeze over the southern bank of the river, en-
veloping the main road which the equipage was pursuing.
The lamps accordingly shone as dimly as if through the
dullest ground glass ; and the feeble glimmering thus thrown
forth was barely sufficient to enable the coachman to avoid
the hedges, banks, ditches, or fences which by turns skirted
the road.

The carriage accordingly proceeded at a leisurely pace;
and Sir Douglas sank into a sound sleep under the influence

353

354 THE COURT OF LONDON

of the liquor he had imbibed at Dartford. It was close upon
midnight when the equipage began the long, tedious, and
gloomy ascent of Shooter's Hill, that spot which, until a
very recent period, was so memorable for the exploits of
highwaymen. Still the baronet dozed on upon the com-
fortable cushions of the carriage; but all in a moment he
was startled from his sleep by the abrupt stoppage of the
vehicle, followed by the instantaneous plunging of the
horses, together with several rough voices speaking menac-
ingly.

Letting down the window, the baronet became aware that
his carriage was attacked by robbers; and having no
weapons of any kind with him, he was unable to offer the
slightest resistance. Besides which, the night was of such
impenetrable gloom that he could literally see nothing of
what was going on; but the voices which he heard enabled
him to comprehend in a moment that his servants were
overpowered, and that the ruffians were menacing them
with death if they dared make any further noise.

Thus far all that had happened since the baronet was
startled from his nap was the work of a few seconds; and
putting forth his hand, he was about to open the door when
a couple of fellows came up to the window. One of them
immediately seized the carriage-lamp on that side, and
thrust it into the vehicle, turning it in such a way that its
light fell full upon the baronet's countenance.

" He's a good-natured-looking feller," said one, in a gruff
voice; " and so I suppose he'll stand summut handsome."

" To be sure he will, Bob," answered the other ruffian.
" Now, sir," he continued, addressing himself to Sir Douglas,
" your watch, your rings, your diamond breast-pin, and, as
a matter of course, your purse. If not by fair means, we
will have them by foul," and he placed a double-barrelled
pistol so close to the baronet's forehead as to cause him to
tremble in spite of himself.

" Now, then, be quick, you sir," said the other ruffian, who
had been addressed as Bob. " Don't frighten the genelman
out of his senses, Buttoner."

" Well, I don't want to, if so be he'll only make haste,"
observed the individual thus addressed, as he withdrew the
pistol from the close vicinage of the baronet's counte-
nance.

SHOOTER'S HILL 355

Sir Douglas, perceiving that resistance was vain, never-
theless hoped that if he could only keep the villains in
parley, succour might arrive.

" Now, my good fellows," he accordingly said, surveying
their countenances by the dim light of the carriage-lamp,
and observing that one was a villainous-looking man with
a black patch over the eye, and that the other, who was
called the Buttoner, was a jovial, well-favoured person,
" now, my good fellows, I am quite ready to surrender up
everything I have about me, if you like; but as I value my
watch and my rings, I will pay you a fairer price for their
ransom than you will get for them if you take them from
me."

" Well, let's first look at the purse," said Bob, the fellow
with the black patch over his eye, and who was no other than
the Durrynacker to whom the reader was introduced at Ben-
cull's dark crib.

The baronet accordingly drew forth his purse, which was
found to contain something more than twelve guineas.

" Well, this here ain't no great shakes," cried the Buttoner.
" I say, Ben," he exclaimed, raising his voice and turning
his head away from the window, " the genelman proposes
a compromise for the yack, the fawneys, and so on."

" Well, let it be so," said a hoarse, thick voice in reply;
and this indeed was none other than Mr. Bencull speaking,
and who was mounting guard on the box over the coachman
and footman.

" Wery good," said the Buttoner. " Now, sir, please to
step down," and thus speaking, he opened the door of the
carriage and lowered the steps.

" But where am I to go? " demanded the baronet.

" Never do you mind," answered the Buttoner; " come
along with us, that's all."

" Oh, if it be necessary to go any distance, I would sooner
give up my personal property at once," said the baronet,
who had thus involved himself in a dilemma which he little
anticipated when proposing the compromise; " or else, can
I not write you a cheque upon my banker on a leaf torn
out of my pocketbook? "

" No, no, sir, we don't do business in that way," responded
the Buttoner, sharply. " You was the first to propose the
compromise, and therefore we'll stick to it. Now then, how

356 THE COURT OF LONDON

is it to be? " he demanded, again appealing to his confederate
on the box.

" Oh, let your young woman manage it," replied Bencull.
"Be it so," said the Butt oner; then addressing himself
in hasty and imperious terms to the baronet, he continued:
" Now, sir, you will give your servants orders to pay a
hundred guineas to the bearer of a letter from you to that
effect to-morrow morning, and you will tell them that if so
be the young woman doesn't come back with the money
by one o'clock to-morrow afternoon, we shall take it for
granted that there's been foul play and that she's been took
into custody; so that without more ado we shall draw a
knife across your throat. Do you understand, sir? "

" Yes, yes, perfectly well," replied the baronet, uncom-
monly annoyed at the turn the adventure was taking, and
inwardly cursing himself for not having surrendered up his
jewelry without the suggestion of a compromise. " But you
surely don't intend to hold me as a hostage until to-morrow
afternoon? " he said, in a tone that betrayed his vexation.

" By jingo, but we do, though," exclaimed the Buttoner.
" So no more palaver, but give your orders to your servants,
and let the carriage depart."

" Well, since there is no help for it, be it as you say,"
observed the baronet, with a philosophical resignation to
an adventure which, after all, threatened to be more incon-
venient than perilous. Then, addressing himself to the
footman, he said, " James, you have heard what has taken
place, and you will tell the housekeeper to pay the hundred
guineas to any person who shall present a letter from me
to-morrow morning to that effect. You will likewise tell
Mrs. Baines that the person presenting such letter is to
receive no molestation nor hindrance."

The footman promised a faithful attention to his master's
orders; whereupon Bencull relieved that lackey and the
coachman from the terrors of his presence on the box and
the imminence of his pistols, and the instant he alighted
the carriage drove rapidly away.

The whole of this scene did not occupy above five minutes,
the colloquy which has taken us so long to record having
passed with all the haste and hurry of the accompanying
excitement.

And now, while the carriage was proceeding on its course,

SHOOTER'S HILL 357

with the coachman and lackey congratulating themselves
on their escape, the baronet was seized upon by the three
ruffians and hurried into the thicket skirting that side of
the road which was farthest from the Thames. Through
the deep, impenetrable darkness did the robbers conduct
their captive, to whom it was evident, by the rapid and
unhesitating pace at which they advanced, that they were
perfectly familiar with the locality. Such indeed was the
case; for they were pursuing a beaten pathway through
the wood, and in which they were enabled to keep with
precision, inasmuch as the sinking of their feet on the
damp ground on either side at once made them aware when
there was the slightest divergence from that well-trodden
path.

For upwards of a quarter of an hour did they thus proceed
at a rapid rate. No violence was offered to the baronet;
but a firm grasp was kept upon him, in order to prevent
his escape. Scarcely a word was spoken as they thus
proceeded through that night of pitchy gloom; and at the
expiration of the interval just named, a dim light was
observed twinkling a little ahead. In two or three minutes
the party halted suddenly at the door of what appeared to
be a cottage, or hut, and whence the light had emanated.

The door was opened by another ill-looking rascal, who,
we may as well observe at once, was the Mushroom Faker,
another of the delectable company whose acquaintance our
readers have made at Jacob's Island.

The baronet was now introduced into a rude and dilapi-
dated room, furnished with one or two benches and a couple
of tables made of the roughest materials. The entire aspect
of the place was of the most wretched and cheerless descrip-
tion. On one table stood a bottle, a glass, a plate, and a huge
knife with a buckhorn handle; for the Mushroom Faker
had only just concluded his supper at the moment when his
companions arrived with their captive.

" Sit down, sir," said the Buttoner, " and make yourself
at home. I suppose there's some kind of lush here," he
continued, taking up the bottle and holding it against the
flame of a tallow candle with a long flaring wick. " Yes,
to be sure there is," and filling the glass with brandy he
tossed the dram down his throat. " Now, sir, pray help
yourself to this here lush, and I can promise you'll find it

358 THE COURT OF LONDON

excellent. In fact, you must make yourself as comfortable
as you can, while I go and see what my young woman can do
toward accommodating you for the night."

The baronet made no reply, but threw a look of bitter
annoyance around the room, and of disgust upon the But-
toner; then seating himself on a rough stool at the clumsy
table, he once more endeavoured to soothe his annoyance
and resign himself to the temporary inconveniences of his
position.

The Buttoner opened a small door and ascended a narrow
staircase, which creaked and groaned beneath his heavy
tread, while Bencull, Bob the Durrynacker, and the Mush-
room Faker sat down at the second table and began drinking
as fast and furiously as if they had never tasted strong
waters before in their lives. It was, notwithstanding, pretty
evident that there was no lack of the alcoholic fluid in the
hut, as indeed the numerous bottles which appeared on the
shelves of an open cupboard satisfactorily proved.

In a few minutes the Buttoner came down-stairs again,
and presenting a sheet of paper, writing materials, and
sealing-wax to the baronet, he said, " Now, sir, you'll
please to draw up at once that there letter which is to be
delivered to your housekeeper, Mrs. Baines, as I think you
called her; 'cos why, my young woman will get up precious
early in the morning, so as to be at your house in town,
wherever it is, by eight or nine o'clock."

Sir Douglas Huntingdon immediately proceeded to pen
the requisite instructions for the payment of the hundred
guineas to the bearer; and having affixed his signature to
the letter, he was about to seal it when the Buttoner leaned
over his shoulder, observing in a coarse tone of familiarity,
" Beg pardon, sir, but I must see what you have wrote,
if you please."

" By all means," observed the baronet, scarcely attempt-
ing to conceal his disgust. " But if you did not mean me
to close the letter, why did you bring the sealing-wax? "

" I fancied you would rayther seal it," was the reply;
" so that when delivered at your door, to-morrow morning,
it won't be read by no one but her as it is addressed to.
But all this isn't no reason why I shouldn't see aforehand
what the letter really contains. Howsumever, it's all right,
and so now you can seal it."

SHOOTER'S HILL 359

Sir Douglas Huntingdon accordingly secured the letter;
and having duly addressed it to Mrs. Baines, his house-
keeper in London, he gave it into the hands of the Buttoner.
This individual once more hurried up the narrow rickety
staircase, at the top of which was a bedroom, if a place with
a quantity of dirty flock scattered upon the floor, a wretched
coverlid, a rudely constructed table, a chipped basin, and
a cracked ewer deserves such an appellation.

In this wretched apartment Nell Gibson was seated. A
bottle of spirits and a glass stood upon the table; and as
the light of the solitary candle played flickeringly upon her
countenance, it showed that her features were slightly
flushed with drinking. Her apparel was in striking contrast
with the miserable aspect of the place. She wore gold ear-
rings; a silk bodice, fitting close to her shape, displayed the
luxuriant proportions of her figure; her arms were bare to
the shoulder, and the short skirts of her dress revealed her
well-formed ankles up to the swell of the leg. A handsome
bonnet and scarf lay upon the bench where she was seated;
and when the Buttoner reappeared this second time in the
chamber, she was counting a few guineas which she had taken
from a new silk purse.

We have already informed our readers that there had
been a grand steeplechaise in the neighbourhood that
morning; and great numbers of persons had been attracted
to the vicinage of Shooter's Hill, not only from the adjacent
towns of Dartford, Woolwich, and Greenwich, but also
from the metropolis. To take advantage of this opportunity
of displaying their particular genius and exercising their
craft, Bencull, the Durrynacker, the Buttoner, and Nell
Gibson had appeared upon the scene; while the Hangman,
Sally Melmoth, and Jack the Foundling had likewise paid
a visit to the same neighbourhood and for the same purpose.
Of course the two parties had thus met in pursuance of
previous arrangement; but we shall not pause to describe
the various ways in which all these worthies, male and
female, turned the proceedings of the day and the presence
of a large concourse of people to their own special advantage.
Suffice it to say that they managed to reap a very tolerable
harvest; and when evening came the two parties took a
very friendly leave of each other. On the one hand, Daniel
Coffin, Sally Melmoth, and Jack the Foundling repaired to

360 THE COURT OF LONDON

a small, lonely but convenient ale-house at a short distance
amongst the fields, to take up their quarters till morning;
while, on the other hand, Bencull, the But toner, the Durry-
nacker, and Nell Gibson had already arranged to pass the
night at the rude hut in the immediate vicinage of Shooter's
Hill.

Now this hut belonged to no less a personage than the
Mushroom Faker. The reader will scarcely require to be
told that it was a very convenient haunt for such per-
sonages as those just named; and accordingly, when business
was slack at Jacob's Island, they often sought the rude
hut for the purpose of seeing what they could pick up by
nights on Shooter's Hill. It was also a retreat for any
member of the fraternity whom circumstances compelled
to " keep out of the way " for awhile; and suspicion was
averted from the place by the maintenance of an air of the
most abject poverty. The gamekeepers of the district
fancied that it was occupied only by a poor inoffensive
umbrella-mender, who was frequently absent on long
journeys; whereas, in reality, it was the scene of many
crimes and the hiding-place of many criminals.

We need only add in explanation of present incidents
that Bencull, the Durrynacker, and the Buttoner, flushed
with the success of their proceedings amongst the crowds
collected for the steeplechase in the morning, had resolved
not to allow the night to pass without " trying their luck "
on Shooter's Hill. Hence the stoppage of the baronet's
carriage, and the circumstances which led to his introduction
to the hut.

We stated that upon ascending the stairs a second time
the Buttoner found Nell Gibson counting her money;
and as he tossed her the letter which he had just received
from the baronet down-stairs, he said, " Here, gal, is the
dokiment that will produce a hundred guineas to-morrow
morning."

" So much the better," observed the young woman, with
a smile of satisfaction; " this is something like a night's
adventure. Let me see, there's five of us: that will be
twenty guineas apiece; because although you and me
are now as good as one, yet we go shares as two."

" Oh, to be sure," said the Buttoner; " that's understood.
You'll have to start off precious early in the morning, Nell,

SHOOTER'S HILL 361

so as to deliver that letter by eight or nine o'clock, and make
sure of the money. Not that it matters much, so far as the
swell cove hisself is concerned, for we don't mean to part
with him quite so easy. In fact," added the Buttoner,
lowering his voice to a whisper, " we don't mean to part
with him at all."

" Then what do you mean? " asked Nell, in her usually
quiet way, as if it were impossible for her to be surprised,
startled, or alarmed by any announcement that could be
made or any plan that could be revealed.

" Why, the swell cove has got such a handsome yack
and chain, such beautiful fawneys, and such a sweet breast-
pin, besides which, his toggery is so precious good, that it
would raly be a sin to let such wallyables slip through our
fingers. And therefore," added the Buttoner, in a still
lower whisper and with an ominous look, " we mean to put
him wery comfortably out of the way. Besides, dead men
tell no tales, and since he has seen all our precious faces
and would have no trouble in recognizing us again, it's much
better to give him his gruel."

" Who is he? " asked Nell Gibson. " Do you know his
name? Because if he happens to be any great person,
there would be such a precious piece of work that no stone
would be left unturned till his fate was discovered."

"To be sure I know who he is," returned the Buttoner.
" You don't think I should have been fool enough to let
him seal up that there letter afore I read it through? But
I say, Nell, you don't object to having this swell cove made
away with, do ye? "

" Not I indeed," returned this young woman, who beneath
a handsome exterior concealed the implacable and remorse-
less spirit of a fiend. " And even supposing I did object,
I know very well that if Bencull has once made up his mind,
neither heaven nor earth could move him to the contrary."

" Well, he has, then, I can tell you," returned the But-
toner; " for although not a word has passed our lips on
the subject, yet me and him and the Durrynacker and
Mushroom Faker have settled the pint with our looks."

" I suppose you will wait till I come back to-morrow to
say whether I have got the money or not? " observed Nell
Gibson.
" There's no use waiting at all," answered the Buttoner.

362 THE COURT OF LONDON

" Whether he's alive or dead at eight o'clock to-morrow
morning won't make no difference in your getting the money;
and as for sticking a knife in a feller in cold blood during the
daytime, I raly couldn't do it. It's all wery well at night,
when one has had plenty of lush to make one plucky — "

" Well, you know best, and it's quite the same to me,"
interrupted Nell Gibson, with a yawn. " But, after all, you
haven't told me what his name is," she observed, carelessly,
as she turned the letter over and over in her hand.

" Douglas Huntingdon the signature is," answered the
Buttoner. " But what's the matter, Nell? " he demanded,
as she suddenly dropped the letter on the floor.

" Nothing. Why do you ask? " she inquired, stooping
down to pick up the letter. Then, having done so, she
looked up in the Buttoner's face, saying, " Why did you
ask me that question, I repeat? "

" Because I thought you started and looked queer all of
a sudden," was the response.

" Not I indeed," she observed, in an offhand manner,
as she steadily met the keen, searching gaze which the
Buttoner fixed upon her for a few moments. " Do you think
he suspects he is in any danger? " she asked; " because if
so it would be well to lull him into security."

" That's just what I want," responded the Buttoner.
" I shouldn't like for us all to have to set upon him while's
he awake, and so massacre him, as one may say. I had
much rayther that he would lie down and go to sleep, and
then we could do his business all quiet and comfortable
without leaving no telltale stains about the place. In fact,
I told him just now that I would come up-stairs and see
what accommodation my young woman could make for
him."

" Well, why don't you go and tell him he can have a bed-
room, such as it is? " said Nell Gibson. " Or I tell you what,"
she added, a thought suddenly appearing to strike her,
" if you like I'll go down-stairs and invite him to come up
here."

" Well, do so if you fancy you'll succeed," replied the
Buttoner. " There's no harm in trying it on."

" No harm at all," echoed Nell Gibson; and with this
observation she descended to the room below, the Buttoner
remaining up-stairs.

SHOOTER'S HILL 363

The moment she made her appearance in the lower apart-
ment she threw a rapid look of intelligence upon Bencull,
the Durrynacker, and the Mushroom Faker, who were
boozing at one table, while she advanced toward the baronet,
who was still seated at the other. The three villains under-
stood by this look that she had some project in hand, and
they therefore affected to take no particular notice of her.
This was precisely what she wanted; her object was to
divert their attention, or, at all events, cause them to look
aside for a moment, while she had an opportunity of making
a sign of intelligence to the baronet. Indeed, had she not
by such a sign enjoined him to hold his peace, an exclama-
tion of astonishment would have burst from his lips; for
Nell Gibson was indeed no stranger to him, and he had
instantaneously recognized her.

Yes, her form was fuller and grosser, her looks were
bolder, and her mien was more brazen than when he
saw her last; nevertheless, he failed not to recognize in
an instant that countenance which he had once admired,
and that form whose virgin charms had been despoiled by
him.

The ejaculation, then, of amazement which was about to
burst forth died upon his lips as he caught that signal
which she made him; and instantly perceiving by her
manner that she had in view some purpose which she wished
to conceal from the ruffians at the other end of the room,
he suddenly assumed an air of perfect composure, so as not
to betray that any secret intelligence existed between them.

" You are sure, sir/' she said, holding up the letter, " that
this document will meet with proper attention to-morrow
morning? "

" I am certain of it," he replied. " The men who brought
me hither overheard the instructions which I gave to my
servants ere they departed with the carriage — "

But while Sir Douglas Huntingdon was thus speaking,
Nell Gibson said, in a low, rapid whisper, " Fly hence, I
conjure you! "

Startling as these words were, inasmuch as they revealed
to him in a moment all the dangers of his position, he never-
theless had the presence of mind to continue speaking the
sentence which we have recorded; and thus his voice drowned
the whispered accents of the female.

364 THE COURT OF LONDON

" Well, sir," she said, aloud, as if in answer to the obser-
vation which he had made, " I do hope that it will not be
a wild-goose chase that I shall have to-morrow morning.
And now, sir, as you have got to stay here all night, I am
sent to propose that you walk up-stairs and lie down."

But as she thus spoke, she gave a slight and just per-
ceptible shake of the head, as much as to tell him not to
accept her offer.

" Thank you, young woman," he said, aloud, with a
look which showed that he not only experienced a full sense
of the danger of which she had made him aware, but like-
wise the deepest gratitude toward herself, " thank you,
young woman, I would rather not. Presently, when I feel
tired, I will avail myself of the offer."

And while Sir Douglas was thus speaking, in such a
manner as perfectly to cover Nell's whispered accents, she
breathed, in the lowest tone, the following words: " The
door is not fastened — watch your opportunity — seize
that knife — and escape!" Then, immediately afterward,
she said, aloud, and in a calm, placid voice, " Would you
like anything to eat, sir? We have provisions in the place,
and because you are a prisoner for a few hours, there's no
reason why you should be starved."

" No, I thank you, I require nothing," responded the
baronet; and as he threw a rapid, furtive, sidelong glance
toward the three men at the other end of the room, he saw
in the sinister signs they were making together a horrible
confirmation of the dire alarms which Nell Gibson had
excited in his breast.

" I wish you good night, sir," she said; and darting upon
him another look of intelligence, she turned away.

Ascending the staircase to the chamber above, she re-
appeared in the presence of the Buttoner, who was paying
his respects to the brandy bottle there.

" Well, gal, I see it's no use," he observed. " The swell
cove wouldn't be enticed up here, eh? "

" But he doesn't suspect anything wrong," returned
the young woman, with the most perfect composure of
countenance. " It is quite clear he fancies himself safe
enough from danger, and that he will be let loose again to-
morrow when I come back with the money."

She then sat down by the side of the Buttoner, with an

SHOOTER'S HILL 365

air as composed and self-possessed as if she had betrayed
nothing of the contemplated horrors.

In the meantime Sir Douglas Huntingdon had remained
sitting at the table in the apartment below. Cold, ice-cold
was the tremor that seized upon him as he reflected on the
appalling perils by which he was surrounded. Though no
coward, he could not help shrinking in dismay from the
chasm on the brink of which he appeared to stand. As he
glanced furtively around upon the three men who were
boozing at the other table, he fancied that murder was
written upon their very countenances. Averting his eyes
in dread horror, he cast them down upon the floor; and,
behold! they settled on stains which instantaneously struck
him to be those of blood. His looks were startled away
from that hideous point of view; and as they swept in
frightened rapidity around, they caught other stains upon
the wooden wall, which likewise appeared to be the marks
of blood.

Shuddering to the very confines of his being, the baronet
felt as if he were indeed looking death face to face. The
pitchy darkness of the night that hung like a sable pall
against the cottage-window, the awful stillness that pre-
vailed around, the utter loneliness of that hut, the evil
reputation of the neighbourhood, the deep solemn hour of
midnight, and then those villainous countenances, which
seemed more sinister and diabolical still as the faint, flicker-
ing light played upon them, — all these influences and
circumstances combined to fill his soul with a fearful con-
sternation and a horrible dismay.

Scarce a quarter of an hour had elapsed since he had
refused in disgust the dram of brandy which the Buttoner
had offered to him; but now he hastened to pour it out
and greedily swallow it, to revive his drooping courage.
In a moment the burning fluid appeared to flash like lightning
through his veins; it was the spark to a whole train of excite-
ment which had been subdued for a few minutes by the
weight of an overwhelming consternation.

Yes, all was now haste in his thoughts, hurry in his ideas,
a dizzy whirl in his brain. The red right arm of murder
seemed to be extended over him; the gleaming blade
appeared to be ready to plunge down into his heart; and
his eyes swept wildly around to assure himself that the

366 THE COURT OF LONDON

ruffians were not already standing behind him or creeping
stealthily toward him. No, they were still seated at the
table, drinking and talking. The man Bencull had thrown
off his coat and appeared in his shirt-sleeves. This in
reality was because the night was close, the room was hot,
and much liquor had made him feverish; but to the excited
imagination of Sir Douglas Huntingdon it appeared as if
the fellow were preparing himself to do the work of murder,
as a butcher prepares for the slaughter of an ox; and now,
wrought up to a pitch of desperation, the baronet snatched
up the knife, made but one bound from his seat to the door,
lifted the latch, and darted forth into the pitchy blackness
of the night.

With ejaculations of amazement and fury, Bencull, the
Durrynacker, and the Mushroom Faker rushed after the
fugitive; and those cries of rage, reaching the chamber
above, told Nell Gibson that the baronet had escaped, and
startled the Buttoner with the conviction that something
was wrong. Rushing down the stairs, he found the lower
room empty and the door wide open; and he was about to
dart forth and join in the pursuit when an idea that flashed
to his brain struck him, as it were, with the sudden blow of
a hammer, and made him stop short in the midst of his
furious excitement, as a drunken man is sobered all in a
moment by some fearful announcement.

CHAPTER XXXI

THE FAIR STRANGER

THE thought which thus suddenly arrested the steps of
the Buttoner and transfixed him to the spot was that Nell
Gibson had betrayed the murderous project to the baronet.

Our readers will remember a certain conversation which
took place a fortnight previously to the present date of our
story between Bencull and the Hangman relative to the
employment of Nell Gibson to lead Larry Sampson into a
trap. It will likewise be borne in mind that "to make
sure doubly sure/' in a scheme of so dangerous and delicate
a character, they had resolved to plant the Buttoner as a
spy upon Nell Gibson's actions. Being well provided with
cash and good clothes, the Buttoner had found these proofs
of prosperity to be immediate passports to the favour of
Miss Gibson; and he accordingly took up his abode with
her at Mrs. Young's delectable establishment in Bermondsey.
He and Nell were therefore living as husband and wife
together; and we have already shown how it was that they
happened to be at the hut near Shooter's Hill on the night
of which we are writing.

Now, be it observed that the Buttoner was expressly
employed and also bribed by Bencull and the Hangman to
watch Nell Gibson's conduct. This circumstance was alone
sufficient to render him far more susceptible of misgiving
than he otherwise would have been, and more liable to
entertain suspicion at the slightest appearance of anything
mysterious or sinister. Thus, when he suddenly recollected
how Nell Gibson had started, and how strange she had
looked for a moment, when he mentioned the baronet's
name to her, he was struck by the idea that she had played
the traitress.

367

368 THE COURT OF LONDON

Instead, therefore, of rushing out in pursuit of the fugitive,
the Buttoner turned back from the threshold of the hut,
and faced Nell Gibson just as she reached the bottom of
the stairs down which she had followed him.

" You see this swell cove has escaped," he said, fixing his
eyes upon her with a keenness that appeared to penetrate
her through and through.

" I see it indeed," she answered, encountering his gaze
with an unwavering steadiness, although upon her cheek
there seemed to be a slight, slight changing of colour, and
on the lips the least, least twitching of nervousness.

" What did you say to him just now, Nell? " inquired the
Buttoner, scarcely knowing what to think, but, at all events,
too uncertain as to her manner to feel justified in accusing
her pointblank on the spot.

" I merely asked him whether he was sure that the money
would be paid to-morrow morning," replied Nell, perceiving
that she was suspected, but still maintaining an air of
perfect self-possession; " and when he had assured me that
there would be no mistake on that head," she continued,
" I asked him whether he chose to lie down to rest or to
partake of any refreshment."

" And that was all that took place? " said the Buttoner,
still keeping his eyes steadily fixed upon her.

" That was all," she answered, the colour neither coming
nor going now upon her cheeks, nor her lip betraying even
the slightest uneasiness. " But whatever mischief may
follow from this escape," she observed, in a tone of vexation
mingled with reproach, " you and the others have only got
yourselves to thank for it. You should have made the
door fast, and not left the bird an opportunity to fly out of
his cage."

" By jingo! what you say is true enough, Nell," exclaimed
the Buttoner, feeling how justly merited was the remon-
strance; then, advancing to the door, which still stood wide
open, he listened with suspended breath, while with straining
eyes he endeavoured to penetrate the pitchy blackness£of
the night.

" Well, can you hear anything? " asked the young woman,
as he turned back again from the door, leaving it, however,
wide open.

" Nothing, not even the rustling of the branches," he

THE FAIR STRANGER 369

replied, with a terrible imprecation. " Do you know, Nell,
this is a very serious business and may end cursed badly?
Like infernal fools that we were, we once or twice let slip
each other's names; and so, what with knowing these, and
being able to describe our precious faces, this swell cove,
if he makes good his escape, will be able to give such informa-
tion against us as shall make London too hot to hold us.
Then, my eyes! won't Larry indeed have something to be
down upon us for! "

" How provoking," ejaculated Nell Gibson; " and just
at the time, too, that I was getting Larry Sampson into such
a nice state of credulity that a few days more would entice
him into the trap as safe and sure as possible! "

" Yes, it is deucedly provoking," growled the Butt oner,
and once more he went to the threshold and listened atten-
tively. " There's not a sound, not even the waving of the
trees," and again turning away from the door, he tossed off
a bumper of brandy.

" What must we do? " inquired Nell, appearing to be
very uneasy, although in her heart she knew full well that
the baronet would not be guilty of such black ingratitude
as to give any information to the authorities calculated
to compromise herself.

" What must we do? " echoed her paramour. " Why,
if our pals come back without the swell cove, we must get
away from here as quick as ever we can. Who knows but
what he may cut across to Greenwich and come back at
once with a whole posse of constables? Or perhaps he may
meet some travellers on the road — "

" Ay, truly," cried Nell, affecting to be very seriously
alarmed. " Let us go away at once. There's no use in
staying here to be taken. Bencull and the others will
know very well how to shift for themselves. Suppose we
go down to the Jolly Wagoner, where Daniel Coffin and his
party are."

" Well, go up-stairs and put on your toggery," interrupted
the Buttoner, really beginning to think that it was high
time to make themselves scarce.

Nell Gibson accordingly tripped up to the room above;
but scarcely had she adjusted her bonnet and thrown her
flaunting scarf over her previously much exposed shoulders
and bosom, when she heard the sound of voices below, and

370 THE COURT OF LONDON

recognizing BenculFs hoarse tones, she hastened down-
stairs again, sick at heart with the apprehension that Sir
Douglas had been retaken.

Bencull, Bob the Durrynacker, and the Mushroom Faker
had indeed returned, as Nell had just expected; but instead
of being accompanied by the baronet, the first-mentioned of
the three ruffians bore in his arms the inanimate form of a
beautiful girl, while one of the others carried in his hand a
bundle tied up in a shawl.

" What in the devil's name does this mean? " demanded
the Buttoner, surveying his comrades with surprise and the
senseless damsel with a look of admiration.

" Here's a present for Nell," said Bencull, with a salacious
leer, as he looked down upon the still and placid countenance
of his fair burden. " Nell will break her in, in the usual
style."

" Ay, that will I! " exclaimed the young woman, who was
not only immensely relieved at finding her fears unfounded
with regard to the recapture of the baronet, but who was
also much struck with the sweet, touching, and interesting
beauty of the fair stranger, whose charms she already
resolved upon turning into gold. " Mrs. Gale will give
twenty guineas for this young creature; and I dare say the
Marquis of Leveson, who is Mrs. Gale's best patron, will give
her at least five times as much. But come, bring her up-
stairs and lay her down on the bed; for this swoon is so
deep that it may be dangerous."

Bencull accordingly bore the beauteous girl in his arms
to the chamber above; while Nell Gibson followed with the
bundle which she took from the Mushroom Faker, who was
carrying it. The fair stranger was deposited softly and gently
upon the heap of flock; and Nell Gibson, stooping down,
unfastened her bonnet, which was much crushed, so as to
give her air. A luxuriant profusion of soft and fine flaxen
tresses now flowed over the wretched coverlid whereon
reclined the damsel's beauteous head; and though all tint
of vital colouring had fled from her countenance, leaving it
marble pale, and her eyes were closed as if in death, so still
were the long brown lashes that rested on her cheeks, yet
was there an air of such Madonna-like sweetness and
angelic beauty about this lovely girl, that only a heart so
intensely selfish as that of Nell Gibson, or so brutally fero-

THE FAIR STRANGER 371

cious as that of Bencull, could have remained inaccessible
to the soft stealing influence and silent magic of such charms.

The damsel was tall, slender, and of sylphid symmetry.
Her apparel, though exceedingly plain, was very neat; and
as she lay stretched upon that sordid couch, her drapery,
humble as it was, seemed to have settled itself in purely
classic folds, developing the flowing outlines of the form
which it concealed, and displaying the exquisite shape of
the beautifully modelled limbs.

It was not, however, in such an aesthetic light that Nell
Gibson contemplated the sweetly reposing form of the
inanimate maiden, but she did not fail to appreciate all the
touching softness and all the tender interest that enveloped
the fair stranger as with a halo; so that when she had
removed the bonnet and beheld all that silken richness of
the flaxen hair, setting off a countenance of virginal inno-
cence, shoulders beautifully rounded and gently sloping, and
a bust whose nascent charms were proportioned like a Gre-
cian statue, the young woman threw upon Bencull a look of
delight, as she whispered, " This is indeed a prize that you
have brought here! "

" Well, you may thank the night-coach for upsetting just
at the brow of Shooter's Hill," returned Bencull.

" What on earth do you mean?" demanded Nell Gibson,
surveying him with a look of astonishment at such a singular
remark.

" I mean just this," answered the man: " that as me and
the two pals reached the hill in search of that feller Hunting-
don, we heard a noise of voices calling out, horses plunging,
and all kind of confusion, while lights was dancing about
on the spot that the noise came from. So we crept up to
the place, and we soon found out what it was. The night-
coach for Dover had upset; and there was a rare scene, if
so be all that took place in the dark can be called a scene at
all. But it wasn't quite in the dark, neither; for the
coachman and guard had got down the lamps and was
moving about to see the extent of the mischief done. ' Here's
this sweet young gal,' says the guard, ' which sat next to
me just now; she's pitched right on this bank, and is either
stunned or dead.' And as he spoke he threw the light on
her face and figure in such a manner that me and the two
pals caught a full view of her, for she was laying within a

372 THE COURT OF LONDON

couple of yards of the spot where we was hid in the shade.
We saw quite enough of her to convince us that she was a
sweet pretty creature; and the Mushroom Faker whispered
in my ear, ' My eyes! if Nell Gibson only had that young
gal in her hands for a week or so.' These words was a hint,
and without any more ado I took the young gal up in my
arms the moment the guard turned away to attend to a
inside passenger. Finding that her heart beat, I carried her
right clean away from the spot, no one seeing the dodge
in the darkness and the confusion. The Mushroom Faker
kicked against a bundle which he accordingly picked up and
brought with him; and as it was quite close to the place
where the young girl was laying, I suppose it is hers."

" Well, the occurrence is a fortunate one," observed
Nell Gibson; " for Mrs. Gale will pay handsomely for this
young creature. She's delicate-looking, but beautiful as
an angel, though I say it who know so little about angels —
and perhaps never shall know any more. But what about
the baronet? " she demanded, abruptly.

" Oh, he's a baronet, is he? " exclaimed Bencull. " Yes,
to be sure, I recollect there is a baronet of the name of
Huntingdon at the West End — I've heard of him afore;
he's a pal of the prince's. Well, I suppose he has got clean
off; and precious awkward it is, too. I must go down-stairs
and see what our pals say about it. So I'll leave you to take
care of this young gal."

With these words the ruffian quitted the chamber; and
when the door had closed behind him, Nell Gibson took some
water and sprinkled it upon the young damsel's countenance.
The effect was soon visible, and slowly did the fair being
begin to recover ; her bosom rose and fell with the long and
painful undulations of returning consciousness, and open-
ing a pair of the finest azure eyes that ever reflected the pure
soul's light of innocence, she gazed up with a look of vacant
inquiry into the countenance that was bending over her.
Then, as her recollection gradually revived, and all the
circumstances of the recent accident were recalled to her
mind, she glanced around with an expression rather of
gratitude than astonishment; for it naturally occurred to
her that she was experiencing the hospitality of some
humble dwelling near the scene of the coach accident.

" Are you injured? Do you feel hurt? " inquired Nell

THE FAIR STRANGER 373

Gibson, in a tone so kind and reassuring that it precluded
the springing up of any immediate alarm or suspicion in
the maiden's mind.

" No, I do not feel that I have sustained any serious
injury, beyond a severe shock/' answered the beauteous
stranger, in a voice of the most touching melody; and as
the colour came back with the delicate tinge of the rose-
leaf to her cheeks, but with the deepest hue of that blushing
flower to her exquisitely chiselled lips, and as these lips
revealed teeth white as Oriental pearls, and exhaled the
balmiest breath, Nell Gibson could not help thinking that
she had never seen a lovelier creature than this fair girl.

" You are welcome where you are, young lady," said
Nell; " and if you can put up with such poor accommoda-
tion as I am able to afford, I shall be truly happy."

" My best thanks are due for your kindness," answered
the damsel; and it was with a sort of ill-subdued shudder
that she cast her eyes around that wretched, cheerless,
poverty-stricken chamber. " But I must pursue my jour-
ney this night; I must return to the coach, which will no
doubt continue its way — "

" The coach is so much injured," interrupted Nell, " that
it will not be able to go on till the morning; and therefore
you must make up your mind to stay here. Is that your
bundle, miss? "

" Yes, I thank you," was the answer, as the fair stranger
glanced toward the object thus indicated. " But indeed —
oh, indeed," she cried, in accents that bespoke a painful
and increasing agitation, " I must even pursue my way on
foot, for I have promised to be at Dover by a certain hour
to-morrow," and as she thus spoke, she endeavoured to rise
from the flock bed; but sinking back again with the weak-
ness and exhaustion consequent upon her fall from the
coach-top, she clasped her hands in a despairing manner,
murmuring, " O God! what will he think? "

Then a faintness came over her, and she sank down
again upon the wretched couch, deprived of consciousness.

Meantime, in the apartment down-stairs, Bob the Durry-
nacker and the Mushroom Faker had explained to the
Buttoner the accident relative to the night-coach, and the
manner in which the fair damsel had fallen into their hands.

374 THE COURT OF LONDON

" Well, I've no doubt but what my young woman will
turn her to precious good advantage," said the Buttoner.
" But wouldn't it have been much better to go on looking
after the swell cove than to bother oneself about young
gals pitched from the top of stage-coaches? "

" This Huntingdon chap, you see, has slipped betwixt
our fingers," said the Mushroom Faker; " and to think of
looking any longer for him in the midst of this dark night was
about as wise as to hunt for a needle in a haystack."

" Then we must all bolt off at once," said the Buttoner,
" or else the swell cove will pYaps come back with a posse
of beaks at his heels."

" Now, then, who's giving way to idle fears like that
there, and where the deuce is the swell cove to get assistance
or raise an alarm at this time of night? " demanded Bencull,
who had just descended from the chamber above. " The
circumstance of his knowing our precious names and having
seen all our beautiful faces is the worst; ;cos why, it will
make London too hot to hold us. Now, then, I tell you what
we will do," he continued, speaking with great rapidity.
" There's no doubt this baronet —

" Baronet! " ejaculated the Buttoner. " How d'ye know
he's a baronet? "

" Why, your young woman says so," answered Bencull.

" Ah! Nell said so, did she?" observed the Buttoner,
all his suspicions flaming up again, more vividly than ever,
in his mind; but not deeming the present time a favourable
opportunity to mention his misgivings, he said, " Well, go
on, Bencull; what are we to do? What do you advise? "

" Why, I should think," continued the landlord of the
dark crib at Jacob's Island, " that the baronet must have
got down into the main road by this time; so either he is
making for Dartford or else for Greenwich. Whichever it
is, he must be overtook and done for, come what will. Now,
then, you and me, Buttoner, will cut right through the
thicket and take the Dartford direction, while you two,"
he added, addressing himself to the Durrynacker and the
Mushroom Faker, " set off toward Greenwich. This is what
we ought to have done at first; but it's better late than never,
and we're pretty sure to overtake him."

" I'll just run up and let Nell know what we are doing,"
said the Buttoner.

THE FAIR STRANGER 375

" Don't stay a moment, then," observed Bencull.

The Buttoner hastened up-stairs and found Nell Gibson
hanging over the fair stranger, just at the moment that
the latter had sunk down again into a state of insensibility
as already described.

" I'm going off in pursuit of that swell cove, Nell," said
the Buttoner, in a hurried manner and without suffering
her to perceive that his suspicions were aroused again;
" for Bencull says it must be done, and so we mean to dog
him until we find him. You must stay here till we come
back."

Nell Gibson dared not venture a word of remonstrance
against this renewal of the pursuit after Sir Douglas Hunting-
don; and, on the other hand, she experienced in reality no
fears for her own safety in remaining at the hut, inasmuch
as we have already said she was well convinced that the
baronet would adopt no extreme course calculated to
compromise herself.

The Buttoner, having made her acquainted with the
intended expedition, paused not to speak another word,
but hastened down to rejoin his companions. They then
all four issued from the hut, leaving Nell Gibson alone with
the fair stranger.

CHAPTER XXXII

THE JOLLY WAGONER — FRESH PERILS

WE must now return to Sir Douglas Huntingdon, who
was destined this night to pass through so many strange
and perilous adventures. At the moment he bounded forth
from the hut in the manner already described, he knew full
well that pursuit would be instantaneous. Accordingly,
instead of rushing away straight ahead and plunging into
the thicket in the direction of the road, he at once passed
around to the back of the cottage and there posted himself,
remaining as still and motionless as a statue. At the same
time he heard his pursuers rushing forth from the door on
the other side of the building; and as they at once made for
the road, the baronet had reason to congratulate himself
on the success of his manoeuvre. Not for an instant did the
ruffians suspect that he had remained so near; and not
only were they thus thrown completely off the right scent,
but they could hear nothing, not a footfall amongst the
dried leaves, nor the snapping of a twig, to mark the course
which the fugitive baronet might have taken.

Having suffered several minutes to elapse, Sir Douglas
Huntingdon stole away from the vicinity of the cottage;
and securing about his person the knife which he had
brought with him, he proceeded at random through the
intense blackness of the night. The reader will therefore
understand that Sir Douglas was now advancing in the very
opposite direction from that which his pursuers had taken;
and while they had become engaged in the adventure of
the overturned coach, as already stated, the object of their
search was speeding across the fields toward a light that
glimmered in the distance.

Cheered by the appearance of this ray, which he hoped

376

FRESH PERILS 377

would prove the beacon of hospitality as well as the harbinger
of safety for the rest of the night, Sir Douglas increased his
pace; but still he was compelled to advance with con-
siderable caution, lest in the deep darkness which enveloped
him he should fall into some pit, pond, or ditch. In about ten
minutes he reached a stile, over which he clambered ; and
he now found himself in what appeared to be a narrow lane,
on the other side of which, exactly facing the stile, stood a
small building from one of whose lower windows glimmered
the light that had guided him thither. He advanced up to
the door; and now through the darkness of the night he
beheld an object hanging, darker than the darkness, over
his head. For the moment an indescribable feeling of alarm
thrilled coldly through his frame, for it struck him that it
was a human corpse thus suspended overhead. But the
next instant he perceived by its shape, and also by the
creaking sound it sent forth, that it was nothing more nor
less than the projecting sign of an inn, or, rather, ale-house.
Encouraged by this discovery in proportion as he had just
previously been terrified, the baronet felt assured of obtaining
an asylum for the rest of the night; and on knocking at
the door it was almost immediately opened by a stout, red-
faced man, with rubicund nose and a drunken leer, both
alike indicating a love of strong liquor. There could con-
sequently be no mistake that this was the landlord, and Sir
Douglas at once requested accommodation for the night.

" Well, I don't exactly know how that can be," answered
the Boniface, keeping the door only half-open, with his own
burly form filling up the interval, while the light from within
streamed with a sort of Rembrandt effect upon the baronet,
whose personal appearance was thus plainly visible to the
landlord.

" How do you mean you do not know whether you can
accommodate me? " cried Sir Douglas. " Is not this a house
of public entertainment? "

"To be sure it is. The Jolly Wagoner is well knowed
in these here parts; but there's been a steeplechase in the
neighbourhood to-day, and so, you see, I have got as much
company as I can well accommodate."

" But is there another inn or tavern near? " asked the
baronet, in a tone of deep vexation.

" No, that there isn't," returned the landlord, still keeping

378 THE COURT OF LONDON

fast in the doorway. " But where do you come from, and
how is it you are out so late? You seem a stylish kind of
gentleman, notwithstanding."

" The truth is/' answered Sir Douglas, " I am a man of
rank and fortune. My carriage has been robbed by a set
of ruffians on Shooter's Hill, and I was dragged away to a
hut close by. There I should have been murdered were it
not for secret intimation given me by a young woman of
her companions' diabolical intentions. Thanks to her, my
life is saved. I escaped, and, wandering through the dark-
ness, caught a glimpse of the light shining from your window.
Now, then, will you refuse me admission? — for depend
upon it, the accommodation which I seek will be liberally
recompensed. If you wish to know who I am, my name is
Sir Douglas Huntingdon."

We must pause for an instant to acquaint our readers
that every syllable of this explanation was overheard by
the Hangman, Sally Melmoth, and Jack the Foundling, who
had established their quarters at the Jolly Wagoner for
the night. They had not as yet retired to rest, but had been
carousing with the landlord until the moment the baronet
knocked at the front door. As he gave the above account
of his adventures, the Hangman and his companions at once
comprehended that it must have been Bencull's party who
had waylaid the carriage, and they likewise understood that
it was to the Mushroom Faker's hut the baronet had been
dragged. But no words can depict their astonishment
when they further gleaned from his explanations that it
could have been none other than Nell Gibson who had
given him the private information which induced him to
escape. The Hangman and Sally Melmoth accordingly
exchanged looks of ominous significancy as they both
muttered the name of Nell Gibson, and Jack the Foundling
seemed equally amazed and indignant at the evident
treachery of that young woman.

Now the landlord of the Jolly Wagoner was neither more
nor less than one of the members of Daniel Coffin's extensive
brotherhood of desperadoes; and therefore, as the baronet
revealed the details of his adventures, the fellow at once
understood how he ought to act. But if he experienced any
indecision on the point, it speedily vanished as the Hang-
man's voice reached his ears, in a gruff whisper from the

FRESH PERILS 379

fireplace where he was seated, saying, " Let him in, by all
means."

The landlord coughed aloud in order to prevent that
whisper reaching the baronet; and assuming an air of pro-
found civility, he said, " Pray walk in, sir. I am sorry
that a gentleman of your rank and consideration should have
been so scurvily treated in this here neighbourhood."

Sir Douglas Huntingdon accordingly entered the place;
and as there was no passage of any kind, he at once found
himself in what may be called the parlour or tap-room of
that little ale-house. There were numerous Windsor chairs
ranged around the walls, a huge deal table in the middle of
the room, several spittoons upon the sanded floor, and a
cheerful fire blazing in the grate. On the table were jugs
of ale, a tray of pipes, and a paper of tobacco; and seated
around the hearth were the Hangman, Sally Melmoth, and
Jack the Foundling.

Daniel Coffin was the first to make way for the baronet,
and so very polite and civil was he that Sir Douglas failed
to receive any evil impression from his particularly sinister
countenance. The landlord, remarking " that it was very
cold, and that his guest would no doubt like something
warm," hastened into a little bar parlour opening from the
end of the room, and speedily returned with a reeking tumbler
of brandy and water.

" And so, sir, you was unfortunate enough to get robbed,
was you? " said the landlord, as he resumed his own seat
in the chimney-corner. " Only think," he continued,
addressing himself to the Hangman, " of the gentleman
being compelled to fly for his life. But what a good young
woman it must have been that gave him such a hint."

" Yes," observed Daniel Coffin, " I heard the gentleman
telling you the story at the door a minute ago, and I thought
to myself what a lucky thing it was he got off so nice. But
I really tremble for the poor young woman, in case she
should be suspected by her companions."

"Ah! you may well say that," exclaimed the landlord,
taking his cue from the Hangman's words. " The rascals
that infest this here neighbourhood are the most murderous,
villainous cutthroats that ever was; and if they only once
as much as suspected the young woman — "

" Oh, don't talk of it! " cried Sally Melmoth, pretending

380 THE COURT OF LONDON

to be fearfully shocked. " The bare idea is enough to make
one's blood run cold."

" Yes, it would indeed be very shocking," said the land-
lord, shaking his head with awful solemnity, " if the whole
neighbourhood was frightened to-morrow morning by hear-
ing that the poor creature was murdered in that terrible
lonely hut."

" Good heavens! " cried Sir Douglas Huntingdon, who
had listened with increasing horror and dismay to this
colloquy, so that his hair literally stood on end, "is it pos-
sible that such a frightful atrocity — "

" Possible indeed! " ejaculated the Hangman, " ay, and
very probable too. You see, sir, I am a farmer, living in
these parts, and I have heard too much already of the
dreadful character of the villains that infest Shooter's
Hill."

" Villains indeed, Lord have mercy upon us! " said the
landlord, looking as grave and solemn as his semi-intoxicated
condition would permit.

" Poor thing, poor thing! " observed Sally Melmoth,
clasping her hands in apparent dismay at the picture which
her imagination was conjuring up. Then fixing her eyes
with fearful meaning upon the baronet, she said, " Ah!
sir, it would be a dreadful thing indeed if the poor young
woman who has just saved your life should lose her own
on that very account! "

" By heavens, you have filled me with excruciating ter-
rors! " exclaimed Sir Douglas, starting from his seat. " I
did not think the young woman would run such a dreadful
risk, or else not for worlds would I have abandoned her in a
cowardly manner. But I see that you are right, they are
indeed murderous miscreants, and if they should suspect
the poor creature — "

" I can't sit here quiet," interrupted the Hangman, also
springing from his seat, " while perhaps murder is being
done. No, I can't do it," he cried, with an air and tone of
blunt honesty. " I'll go, even if I go alone, and prevent
bloodshed there."

" No, brave man, you shall not go alone," exclaimed the
baronet, seizing Daniel Coffin's hand and pressing it with
an effusion of the warmest admiration and gratitude. '* We
will go together, we will save that young woman if she be

FRESH PERILS 381

in danger; and, at any rate, we will take her away from her
vile companions. See, I am armed with a knife," he added,
unbuttoning his coat, and displaying the weapon which he
had brought away with him from the hut.

" And I've fortunately got my barkers with me," said
the Hangman, producing a pair of pistols. " But come,
let us be off. Jack," he added, turning to the Foundling,
" of course you will come with us. The more we are, the
stronger we shall be."

" Oh, you shall not leave me behind," exclaimed Sally
Melmoth. " 1 shall go with you. I long to be able to say
a kind word to a woman who, though the companion of
murderers, has dared to save a fellow creature's life at the
hazard of her own."

" Well, you are a brave woman, wife," said the Hang-
man, pretending to tap her affectionately on the counte-
nance, " and so you shall come. Now, then, let us all be off."

The whole of this colloquy — indeed, the entire scene,
from the instant Sir Douglas Huntingdon crossed the
threshold of the Jolly Wagoner until he issued forth again — •
scarcely occupied ten minutes. The theme of the discourse
was full of excitement for the baronet, and he found himself
hurried away by a torrent of terrible misgivings relative
to Nell Gibson on the one hand, and a chivalrous anxiety
to redeem his character from any imputation of cowardice
on the other. His feelings, therefore, being kept in a whirl
the whole time, he neither had calmness enough to perceive
that there was anything sinister in the looks of his new
acquaintances, nor leisure to reflect upon the honesty of their
motives. But yielding to the impulse which they had so
artfully given to his feelings, he unhesitatingly sallied forth
in company with the Hangman, Sally Melmoth, and Jack
the Foundling.

They all proceeded across the fields, the Hangman acting
as the guide; and it was quite evident that, despite the
Egyptian darkness which prevailed, he was well acquainted
with the path. But then, Sir Douglas Huntingdon remem-
bered that the man had represented himself as a farmer
belonging to the district, and it was therefore natural
enough that he should be thus familiar with every inch of
the locality. They advanced at a pace which was so rapid
as to sustain the hurry of the baronet's thoughts and the

382 THE COURT OF LONDON

excitement of his feelings, and thus he had neither leisure
nor scope for those reflections which would perhaps have
engendered suspicions in his mind relative to the integrity
of his present companions.

" There's the hut! " said the Hangman, as they presently
beheld a light glimmering ahead.

" Had we better not approach with considerable caution? "
inquired the baronet.

" Yes, let us creep as quiet as we can up to the place, "
returned Coffin.

They accordingly advanced stealthily; and as they
drew nearer they observed that lights were burning in the
room above as well as in the apartment below. On reach-
ing the hut, they peeped through one of the windows on
the ground floor; the candles were flaring with long wicks
on the tables, but no one was in the apartment.

" I suppose the ruffians are all out looking for me," said
the baronet, in a low whisper.

" Most likely," responded the Hangman. " Let us enter
the cottage."

He accordingly opened the door and passed in, followed
by the baronet, Sally Melmoth, and Jack the Foundling.

But scarcely had the party thus entered the hut when the
Hangman sprang at Sir Douglas Huntingdon like a tiger
darting at its prey, and dashed him on the floor with such
violence that he was stunned by the ruffianly outrage.
The Hangman then tore open the baronet's coat, and taking
away the knife which Sir Douglas had concealed about his
person, the ruffian flung it to a distance. His next proceed-
ing was to draw forth a piece of rope from one of his own
capacious pockets, in order to bind the baronet hand and
foot.

" I'll go up-stairs and see who's there," said Sally Mel-
moth, while her paramour was thus employed. " Perhaps
that traitress Nell Gibson is up above, as a light is burning
there," she added.

" You had better take care," observed the Hangman.
" If she suspects that she's found out she may do you a
mischief; for she's not a woman to give in easy, I can tell
you."

" Ah! then I had better prepare for a battle," exclaimed
Sally; and, flinging off her bonnet and cloak, she seized

FRESH PERILS 383

the knife in one hand and a candle in the other, her whole
appearance suddenly denoting the natural ferocity of her
disposition when her choler was once excited. " Now if
that she-devil, who I always hated and also suspected,
should attempt any of her nonsense, I'll plunge this deep
down into her heart," and she brandished the knife menac-
ingly, her countenance, which was by no means bad-looking,
being now distorted with the workings of diabolical passions.

" Go with her, Jack/7 said Daniel Coffin, who was still
employed in binding the baronet's limbs. " I must make
this fellow fast, so that he may give no trouble when he
comes to himself. But I say, Sal, — and you too, Jack, —
mind, no murder up above there. If you find Nell Gibson,
which I don't suppose you will, as the place is so quiet,
but if you do, I say, make her your prisoner; because we
will wait till all the other fellows come back before dealing
with either her or this baronet here."

But before he had even finished speaking Sally Melmoth
had ascended the stairs, closely followed by Jack the Found-
ling. On reaching the top they pushed open the great
clumsy door, and bursting in, they were struck with amaze-
ment on beholding a young creature of about seventeen,
and of exquisite beauty, sleeping tranquilly upon the
wretched couch spread on the floor.

We should now observe that when the fair stranger
had relapsed into a state of unconsciousness, in the manner
already described, Nell Gibson had done her best to restore
her to life. She soon succeeded, but so weak and exhausted
was the lovely damsel in consequence of the fall she had
sustained from the coach-top that she only awoke from a
state of insensibility to fall into one of profound slumber.
Finding that she thus slept calmly, Nell Gibson had returned
to her seat at the table,where she regaled herself with another
glass of brandy. The effects of the liquor which she had
imbibed so copiously soon exhibited themselves in a deep
drowsiness, and she fell fast asleep in a sort of nook, or
recess, where the table stood. So sound was her slumber
that she had not heard the arrival of the Hangman's party,
nor even the noise of the outrage upon the baronet in the
room below; but when the door of the upper chamber was
burst open by Sally Melmoth and Jack the Foundling,
Nell Gibson awoke from her nap.

384 THE COURT OF LONDON

In the dulness and drowsiness which hung about her after
so insufficient an amount of sleep, and with the fumes of
liquor still obscuring her brain, she did not immediately
observe who the persons were thus entering the chamber.
But in a few moments her sight grew clearer, her ideas more
collected, and, rising from her seat, she beheld Sally Mel-
moth and Jack the Foundling.

"Ah! what, are you here? " she exclaimed, addressing
herself familiarly to the Hangman's mistress; but instan-
taneously perceiving that this woman carried a knife in
her hand, and that her countenance was positively hid-
eous with the distortions and workings of dire passion,
Nell Gibson saw that something was wrong. With admir-
able presence of mind, however, she said, " What is the
matter? "

" Who is that girl? " demanded Sally, glancing down
toward the fair stranger.

" What do you mean by coming up here to me with that
knife in your hand and with these ferocious looks? " asked
Nell Gibson, her own spirit rising and her eyes flashing fire
upon the Hangman's mistress.

But before any further words were exchanged between
the two women, the Hangman himself, having finished
binding the baronet's limbs, made his appearance in the
chamber, and was as much struck as Sally Melmoth and
the Foundling had been on observing the sweet girl, who,
startled by the sound of angry voices, was now opening her
eyes in alarm.

" Here is the traitress! " exclaimed Sally Melmoth,
pointing savagely with the knife toward Nell Gibson.

" Traitress! who do you dare call a traitress? " cried the
young woman, fortified, or, rather, rendered desperate, by
the brandy she had imbibed so plentifully.

" Ah! we have got your baronet, Miss Nelly; we have
brought him back with us, I can tell you/' exclaimed the
Hangman's mistress, in a jeering and taunting tone.

A livid paleness overspread Nell Gibson's countenance
as she saw that her proceeding of that night with regard to
Sir Douglas Huntingdon was thus positively known; and
bold though she naturally was, armed, too, as she now like-
wise was with an artificial stimulant, she nevertheless felt
her heart sink down completely within her, for she knew

FRESH PERILS 385

full well that hers was a treachery which her companions in
crime seldom forgave, and the punishment of which was
death !

" Ah! you see that she is guilty — her looks betray her! "
yelled forth the infuriate Sally Melmoth; and raising her
knife, she sprang like a tiger-cat toward Nell Gibson, who,
cruelly alarmed, fled screaming horribly into the nook
where the table stood.

" Do not murder her, Sal! " cried the Hangman, in a
voice of thunder, as he seized upon his enraged mistress
and threw his arms around her to hold her back, while
Jack the Foundling proceeded to wrest the knife from her
grasp.

But here we must observe that although only just
awakened from a profound slumber, the fair stranger was
nevertheless startled into the fullest consciousness by the
fearful scene that thus suddenly burst upon her vision.
Instantaneously comprehending that instead of being
beneath some hospitable roof, she was in a den of murderous
miscreants, the affrighted girl sprang up from the bed and
rushed to the door. Terror, the keenest, acutest, most
poignant terror, gave her wings that made her movements
rapid as the lightning flash; and all her senses being sud-
denly endowed with the most vivid clearness, in this moment
of life or death, it was no wonder if she observed that on
the outer side of the chamber door there was a large bolt.
With admirable presence of mind she dashed the door to,
and with her taper fingers shot the bolt into its socket;
then precipitating herself down the stairs, not knowing
what obstacles she might have to encounter, she alighted
in the chamber below.

At first it struck her as being empty; but an ejaculation
of mingled surprise and entreaty reached her ears, and
then her eyes fell upon the baronet, who had just returned
to consciousness. Without wasting a single moment in
words, the courageous girl proceeded to action; and observ-
ing that a cupboard stood open, she threw a rapid glance
upon its shelves. A knife was what she sought for, and a
knife did she find accordingly. In another instant she was
upon her knees, cutting the cords which bound the baronet's
limbs.

It was a moment of awful suspense and excruciating

386 THE COURT OF LONDON

alarm for both. The Hangman was thundering at the door
above, evidently dashing himself with all the weight of his
form against it, while the process of cutting the cords was
calculated to occupy nearly a minute. A minute! Ah!
it is nothing in the ordinary events of life, but it is an age,
an entire age, when life itself is trembling in the balance
or hanging to a thread.

But now the last piece of cord is cut, the bonds fall off
the baronet's limbs, and starting to his feet, he grasps the
hand of his fair deliverer with an effusion of gratitude that
is in itself a love, a worship, a devotion.

" Away, dear girl, away! " he cried, retaining that fair
hand in his own, that he might guide her from the hut.

At the same instant the door of the chamber was burst
open; but with such fury did the Hangman precipitate
himself down the stairs, that, missing the steps, he fell
heavily from top to bottom. To this circumstance, per-
haps, did the baronet and his fair companion owe their
safety; for as they darted forth from the hut, plunging into
the utter darkness of the night, they had the advantage of
the few moments which were lost by Daniel Coffin in picking
himself up and trying his limbs to feel if any were broken.
Then forth he sped in pursuit of the fugitives, Sally Melmoth
and Jack the Foundling remaining behind him to keep
guard over Nell Gibson.

Sir Douglas proceeded at random as he guided his fair
companion, thinking less of taking any special direction
than of placing as great a distance as possible between
themselves and the hut. Speedily emerging from the thicket,
he paused for an instant to listen whether there were any
sounds of pursuit; but he could hear nothing save the
heart-beatings of that young girl who now clung with
apparent exhaustion to his arm.

" We are not pursued," he said, in a hurried whisper.
" Do you think you can walk a little way farther, — only
a little way? And then perhaps we shall reach some place
of safety."

" Yes, oh, yes," she murmured, in a tone that neverthe-
less was fraught with the accents of desperation. " I feel
that I am sinking, and yet I must proceed; our lives depend
upon it."

" Oh, for God's sake, make an effort, make an effort! "

FRESH PERILS 387

whispered the baronet, in a tone of intense earnestness;
and scarcely caring for himself at the moment, he felt as
much, yes, as profoundly, for this sweet girl as if she were a
beloved sister or one whom he had long loved and who
was to become his wife.

They advanced again, his arm thrown around her slender
waist to support her; and in this manner they proceeded for
about ten minutes. Their eyes, growing accustomed to
the deep darkness, enabled them to distinguish the obscure
outlines of the path which they were pursuing; and to the
joy of the baronet he found that they were rapidly nearing
the main road. But his fair companion now grew so faint
that she clung to him like a dead weight, and he had to
carry rather than support her. That sudden flaming up
of her courage, her spirit, and her presence of mind in the
hut had led to a reaction which was gradually prostrating
her completely; and by the time they emerged from the
fields into the highroad the baronet was made painfully
aware that she was fainting in his arms.

At this moment the sounds of rapidly approaching
wheels were head, and coming, too, in the same direction
which they were pursuing. In a few moments the lights of
a vehicle appeared, and on the baronet hailing it, to his
joy it proved to be a return post-chaise journeying empty
to London.

We need hardly say that he took immediate possession
of it, carefully placing his fair companion upon the cushions
inside; and on reaching London, she was consigned in a
state of alarming exhaustion to the care of the baronet's
housekeeper, Mrs. Baines.

CHAPTER XXXIII

THE INTERESTING INVALID

AFTER a profound slumber of some hours' duration, the
fair stranger awoke to find herself lying on a comfortable
couch, in a handsomely furnished chamber, and with a
motherly-looking person standing by the bedside. The
heavy curtains were drawn over the windows, and the room
was darkened, evidently for the purpose of preventing the
invalid's slumber being disturbed by a glare of light; but
through an opening in the drapery stole a golden beam of
the sun, and thus the damsel knew that it was broad day-
light without.

Then, as a crowd of memories rushed into her brain, a
strong shuddering shook her; and it seemed as if some
source of ineffable anguish were rending her very heart-
strings.

" My poor girl, what ails you? What do you feel? "
asked Mrs. Baines, bending over her and speaking in a tone
accompanied with a look of such true maternal kindness
that the tears gushed out from the maiden's eyes, as if all
the founts of her tenderest and deepest feelings were opened.
" You have something that troubles you very much, my
dear child, something that afflicts you sorely," continued
the housekeeper. " I do not ask you to reveal to me your
secrets; but remember that you saved the life of my master,
Sir Douglas Huntingdon, and therefore, through a feeling
of gratitude, if for no other motive, am I anxious and ready
to do anything to serve you."

The fair girl gazed up with a look of unspeakable feeling
at Mrs. Baines, and then her lips moved as if a revelation
were wavering upon them; but whether it were so or not
the good woman could not precisely tell. At all events,

388

THE INTERESTING INVALID 389

before the invalid had time to utter a word, the door opened
and Doctor Copperas entered the room.

" Ah! here is the doctor/' whispered Mrs. Baines to the
invalid. Then turning toward the physician, she said,
" I am glad you have come, sir, for this poor dear girl here
seems dreadfully exhausted."

" Well, Mrs. Baines, we shall soon put her to rights,"
said the physician, seating himself by the bedside and pro-
ceeding to feel the damsel's pulse. " Sir Douglas sent for
me three or four hours ago — indeed, at nine o'clock this
morning, I believe."

" Yes, sir," observed Mrs. Baines, " and now it is past
midday."

" True, but I was at a consultation with that very remark-
able and extraordinary man, Doctor Thurston. Indeed, Mrs.
Baines, if it were possible to change conditions in this
world, and if I had my choice, I think I would sooner be
Doctor Thurston than any one I know."

" Well, sir, this is most singular," observed the house-
keeper; " for I remember that about six weeks ago, when
our coachman broke his leg and you were out of town at
the time, Sir Douglas called in Doctor Thurston, and I
recollect that the doctor whispered to me, after he had given
his opinion on the case, that it was precisely one which you,
sir, ought to have superintended."

" Did he, though? Well, that is very remarkable," cried
Doctor Copperas, affecting to be quite amazed. Then turn-
ing to the fair stranger, he said, " Sir Douglas Huntingdon
has just explained to me all the incidents of the preced-
ing night so far as they relate to himself. Had you been
long in that hut whence you both escaped so marvel-
lously, and had you been ill-treated during your stay
there? "

" I had not been there, sir, more than an hour or two,"
was the answer, " when the incidents occurred which led
to our escape, and I certainly received no harsh nor severe
treatment." Then, after a short pause, the damsel con-
tinued to observe, " I had taken my place on the outside
of the night-coach for Dover, it was upset on Shooter's
Hill, and I must have been stunned by the fall, for I remem-
ber nothing more until I awoke in that hut."

" Excuse the question I am about to ask," said Doctor

390 THE COURT OF LONDON

Copperas. " Had you previously been suffering from priva-
tions or sorrows? "

But the damsel suddenly burst into tears, and the
physician, although by no means of tender disposition,
was touched by this eloquent yet silent response to his
query.

"Ah! poor girl — exhaustion — general debility — too
great excitement — fearful reaction/' muttered the doctor
to himself. " Well, you will be taken care of here, and I
shall come and see you again in the evening. Now, Mrs.
Baines, pen, ink, and paper, if you please, and draw the
curtain a little."

The housekeeper hastened to obey these instructions,
and Doctor Copperas proceeded to write the prescription,
observing as he did so " that he felt convinced he was
about to adopt the very same treatment which that eminent
and remarkable man, Doctor Thurston, would have recom-
mended had he been called in."

Having concluded his Esculapian hieroglyphics, he turned
toward the bed, saying, in a bland tone of inquiry, " And
now, what is the name of my interesting patient? "

At the instant that the doctor began the first words of
his question, the damsel's cheeks were colourless as alabaster;
but scarcely had the final syllables fallen from his lips when
all the blood in her veins seemed to rush to her countenance,
suffusing it with the deepest crimson.

" Ah! my dear child," cried Mrs. Baines, " if the doctor
has said anything indiscreet, do not annoy yourself. God
knows you can bear no more excitement! I am sure when
you were brought home here at three o'clock this morning,
in such a state of exhaustion that you could not speak, and
your very reason seemed to be abandoning you — But,
heavens! " ejaculated the housekeeper, suddenly interrupt-
ing herself as a fresh torrent of tears now gushed out from
the poor girl's eyes, " what ails you, my dear child, what
ails you? "

The damsel could, however, give no response, even if she
wished to do so; her voice was lost in deep and suffocating
sobs. But, looking up with an expression of ineffable grati-
tude upon her countenance, she took Mrs. Baines's hand
and pressed it to her lips.

" There, there," said Doctor Copperas, " I am afraid I

THE INTERESTING INVALID 391

said something indiscreet; but I would not wound the
poor girl's feelings for the world. As for the prescription, I
have made it out in the name of Miss Smith, which, by
the by, is the name that in similar circumstances is invari-
ably adopted by that ornament of the profession, Doctor
Thurston."

Doctor Copperas now took his leave, and when he was
gone, Mrs. Baines addressed the invalid in the kindest and
most endearing manner that she could possibly adopt; for
the housekeeper was indeed an excellent-hearted and worthy
woman, and though in the service of a master renowned for
his dissipated habits and rakish conduct, she herself was
of unimpeachable respectability.

" Now, my dear girl," she said, bending over the couch
and whispering with soothing softness of tone in the invalid's
ear, " you have some secret grief which is gnawing at your
very heart's core. I do not ask you to tell me what it is;
but I do ask you to tell me if there is anything that can be
done to alleviate it. Should you choose to trust me, you
would find that I would go fifty miles to serve you, but
not raise a finger to injure you. I saw plain enough that
you did not like to mention your name, but I am sure that
if there is any harm attached thereto, it is not you yourself
who have brought the stain upon it. No, there is innocence
in your looks, the candour of purity upon your brow. Ah!
and the manner in which you now regard me proves that I
am right in believing you to be the dear good girl I hoped
and wished the first instant I saw you. But even if you had
done anything wrong, there is forgiveness to be obtained.
Oh, now I see again, by that deprecating look so softly
earnest, that it is not so. No, you are all that is good —
I am certain you are. Tell me, then, dear child, what can
be done for you; and recollect that my master owes you so
deep a debt of gratitude there is no trouble he would shun
and no expense he would spare to render you a service
and lighten your heart of the load of affliction."

" My kindest, best friend/' exclaimed the invalid, throw-
ing her arms around the neck of the good housekeeper,
" I will tell you everything. Yes, I will tell you all, and
then you will comprehend wherefore I am unhappy, why I
am tortured with a devouring suspense, and also why I
hesitated to mention a name which, nevertheless, God

392 THE COURT OF LONDON

knows, has never been disgraced by me. But oh, before I
commence my narrative, let me beg of you, let me implore
you to grant me a boon."

" Speak, dear child! " exclaimed the housekeeper. " What
is it? "

" Will you procure me a newspaper of to-day? " said the
fair stranger, in a low, soft tone, as if she even hesitated
to solicit so trifling a favour.

" In a moment," cried Mrs. Baines; and disappearing
from the room for a short time, she returned with a morning
journal, saying, " Sir Douglas always takes this newspaper,
and therefore it was handy in the house at the moment."

But while she was thus speaking, the invalid, with a
sudden access of frenzied excitement, had snatched, or,
indeed, rather torn the journal from the matron's hand;
and sitting up in the bed, as if that feverish excitement had
nerved her with sudden strength, she ran her eye over the
columns with the breathless suspense and excruciating
uncertainty of one who is about to behold the clearing up
of a matter of life or death.

" Thank God," she exclaimed, " he is safe! "

Then, as if this sudden acquirement of a certainty and
abrupt term to a harrowing suspense were to be followed
by a reaction proportionately strong and painful, she fell
back in a state of utter prostration alike of mind and body.
Mrs. Baines hastened to administer a cordial and apply
other restoratives, but hours elapsed, and evening was
drawing its veil of obscurity over the hemisphere, before
the invalid had so far recovered as to be enabled to converse
again. Then, with only a few brief words of preface, to the
the effect that she yearned to unbosom the secrets that lay
heavy upon her soul, the poor girl poured forth her revela-
tions to the friendly ear of the matron.

Two hours later, indeed, at about nine o'clock that same
evening, Mrs. Baines and Sir Douglas Huntingdon were
closeted together in earnest deliberation.

" Ariadne Varian," said the baronet, repeating the words
several times. " How prettily the name sounds! It is
really most appropriate for such a charming creature. Do
you know, Mrs. Baines, that I really feel - But no matter,"
he exclaimed, suddenly interrupting himself.

THE INTERESTING INVALID 393

"Ah! sir, I know what you were going to say/' observed
the housekeeper, " and really if you would not think it rude
nor unbecoming on my part, I should so earnestly advise
you to think of marriage."

" Well, well," said the baronet, laughing, " I suppose
I must think of it some day or another. But let me read
over again this paragraph relative to poor Ariadne's brother;
and then you shall tell me, at full length and in detail, all
those incidents that you have gleaned from her lips and
which you have as yet only sketched so briefly to me."

" Please to read the passage aloud, sir," said Mrs. Baines,
" for I only glanced hurriedly over it just now."

Sir Douglas Huntingdon accordingly took up the news-
paper and read aloud the ensuing passage:

" It will be in the recollection of our readers that at the
last sessions of the Old Bailey a respectable-looking and
genteel young man, named Theodore Varian, was sen-
tenced to transportation for seven years for embezzling
moneys and falsifying accounts while in the service of Mr.
Emmerson, the well-known stock-broker of Birchin Lane.
On the trial, it will be borne in mind, the young man pleaded
guilty, and told a somewhat pathetic tale relative to having
made free with his master's money to pay debts contracted
during a beloved sister's illness. Up to this point the
sympathy of the whole court had been evidently in his
favour; but it will be remembered that he proceeded to
accuse Mr. Emmerson of having held out threats and made
infamous proposals relative to his sister. As a matter of
course, Mr. Emmerson indignantly denied the imputation;
and the learned recorder, to whom Mr. Emmerson's high
character in the City is of course well known, told the
prisoner very plainly that all previous sympathy excited in
his behalf was not merely destroyed, but was succeeded
by loathing and contempt for this base endeavour to calum-
niate his employer. Hence the severe sentence of seven
years' transportation which his lordship deemed it right to
pass upon the prisoner.

" We have recapitulated these facts which were before
published in our columns in order to remind our readers
of the artful cunning and unprincipled disposition of this
young man, whose external appearance and genteel man-
ners at first enlisted so much sympathy in his favour. And

394 THE COURT OF LONDON

if any further proof were wanted of the right estimate
which the learned recorder formed of his consummate
duplicity, such proof will be found in the occurrence we
are about to relate. In a word, this Theodore Varian
escaped from Newgate last night in a very remarkable
manner. It appears that during the day the order had been
received for the removal of himself and other convicts to
Woolwich, preparatory to their departure for the penal
settlement. As the order arrived suddenly, the convicts
were permitted to see their friends until a late hour last
evening; and it is remembered by the gaol authorities
that Theodore Varian was visited by his sister, who was
clad in an ample cloak. At nine o'clock the bell rang as a
signal for all visitors to depart; and as there were some
fifty or sixty strangers, male and female, at the time, it
is supposed that Varian must have suddenly slipped on his
sister's cloak, and probably a bonnet and veil, which it
would have been easy for her to conceal under that cloak.
At all events, shortly after the strangers had departed,
Theodore Varian was missed; and the above explanation
is the only solution that can be given as to the mode of
escape. Up to the hour of going to press, we have not
heard of his recapture."

" And the conjecture, then, relative to the method of
the escape, is the right one," said the baronet, as he laid
down the newspaper. " But you must now give me all the
details of Ariadne's narrative."

" With much pleasure, sir," replied Mrs. Baines. " It
appears that Theodore and Ariadne are orphans, and that
they entertain the sincerest affection for each other, — an
affection not only natural in consequence of the ties of
brother and sister, but also strengthened by the keen
appreciation of that orphan lot which they have together
endured from childhood. It is true that Theodore self-
appropriated some of Mr. Emmerson's money; and I feel
confident it is also true that the hard-hearted, griping, greedy
citizen did tell the unhappy Theodore that if within three
days he did not prepare his sister to surrender her honour,
the worst should ensue. This was toward the close of
September, and for the three following days Ariadne says
that her poor brother seemed to be frenzied with grief.
It was not until the third night that he revealed to his sister

THE INTERESTING INVALID 395

the horrors of his position and the deeper infamy into which
Emmerson tried to plunge them both. Ariadne was at first
distracted, but in a short time the natural strength of her
character enabled her to speak with calmness upon the
position in which herself and unhappy brother were involved.
To be brief, they saw no alternative but flight; and having
hastily disposed of everything salable, and thus reduced
the amount of their worldly possessions to the compass of
two small bundles containing changes of raiment, they fled
from the metropolis."

" Poor orphans! " said the baronet, in a low tone and
with an involuntary sigh. " But go on, Mrs. Baines, go
on."

" They got a lift in some vehicle as far as Hounslow,
where they passed the night. In the next room to the one
where Varian slept two persons of evidently queer character
were lodged, and not being aware that the partition was so
thin as it was, they conversed unrestrainedly. Theodore
could not help hearing every word they said, and he found
that they were two highwayman. They were boasting of
their exploits, and from what they said it appeared that
there was always a much better chance of an offender against
the laws concealing himself in London than in any country
districts. In fine, their discourse made such an impression
upon Theodore that he resolved to retrace his way to the
capital. In the morning he communicated to his sister all
he had overheard, and the resolution he had formed in
consequence; and accordingly, when night came again,
they returned to London. Hiding themselves in a garret
in some low neighbourhood, they passed a fortnight in a
state of continual terrors, apprehensions, and alarms.
They also lived most frugally, even miserably, in order to
eke out their scanty resources. Poor orphans! how often
and often must their tears have been mingled as they
thought of the present and the past, but dared not look
forward to the future. Oh, it makes my heart bleed to
think what this dear sweet girl must have suffered. Is it
not shocking, sir, that such a heavenly creature, such an
angelic being, should be doomed to know such bitter afflic-
tion? Only fancy those soft azure eyes weeping such
bitter tears, only fancy those lovely pale cheeks, just like
damask, being scalded with floods of anguish! Ah! and

396 THE COURT OF LONDON

fancy, too, that those lips which look like rosebuds should
ever wreathe otherwise than in the sunniest smiles."

" Mrs. Baines, you are growing quite poetical," said the
baronet, who was in reality deeply affected. " Come, pray
proceed," he observed, hurriedly. " You were telling me
how this poor girl and her brother lived for a fortnight in
that wretched garret. Pshaw! " he suddenly cried, " what
the deuce is the meaning of this? " and he dashed a tear
from his eye.

" Shall I give you a glass of wine, sir? " asked Mrs. Baines,
perceiving that he was profoundly touched, and thinking
that he required something to console him.

" No, not a drop, I thank you, I never was less in a
humour to drink in my life," he exclaimed. " Pray go
on."

" Well, sir, at the end of that fortnight the young man
resolved to make an endeavour to find employment under
another name. He accordingly went out to seek for such
employment; but as several hours passed and he did not
return, poor Ariadne could no longer restrain the terrors
that were devouring her. She rushed forth wildly to seek
for him, to make inquiries after him; and she soon learned
the fatal truth. He had been arrested, taken before the
lord mayor, and committed to Newgate. O God! I can
enter fully and deeply into the anguish which the poor
girl must have experienced as these terrible tidings burst
upon her. Of course I need not say that from the day of
his arrest to that of his escape she visited him as often and
remained with him as long as the prison regulations would
allow. The sessions were being held at the time when he
was arrested, and he was tried a few days after. This was
a month ago. You have seen, sir, by the newspaper, that
he pleaded guilty, and that he was condemned to seven
years' transportation. If he had. not told the truth about
Emmerson's infamous proposals, he would perhaps only
have had two years' imprisonment; but because he boldly
endeavoured to unmask the villain, the judge threw aside
all sympathy."

" You see, Mrs. Baines, Emmerson is a man of wealth,"
observed the baronet, " a man of high standing in the City,
a member of the common council, too, and, what is more,
a staunch Tory. Besides which, he has got a splendid house

THE INTERESTING INVALID 397

at Clapham, and no doubt the recorder frequently dines
with him. So you perceive it is easy to account for the
judge's behaviour on the bench in Theodore Varian's case.
But now for the rest of your narrative."

" A few more words will conclude it, sir," said Mrs.
Baines. " From the moment of Variants condemnation,
he and his sister never lost an opportunity of discussing the
possibility of his escape. The hope of effecting this alone
sustained them. Ariadne tells me that she has lain awake
whole nights, pondering upon the chances for and against
such a consummation. She says that for hours and hours
her thoughts have never wandered away from this one
subject. At length the plan was settled, and yesterday was
the day for carrying it into execution. Having half-starved
herself to eke out her scanty resources, the poor girl had
just sufficient to enable her to pay her own coach-fare to
Dover, and afford her brother a few shillings to purchase
food during his journey thither. The newspaper tells you
how the escape was accomplished. No sooner did Ariadne
find that the project had succeeded, and that her brother,
disguised in the cloak and bonnet, was safe outside the
terrible doors of Newgate, than she almost went mad with
the delirium of joy. But she was compelled to part immedi-
ately from Theodore, for fear of exciting suspicion and
affording a trace for pursuers; and while he set off on foot
on his journey to Dover, the young maiden took her place
outside the night-coach. Of course their ultimate intention
was to escape over to France, the captain of one of the hoys
plying between Dover and Calais being well acquainted
with the Varians and well disposed toward them. In con-
clusion, sir," added Mrs. Baines, " let me observe that when
poor Ariadne entreated for a sight of the newspaper, it was
to ascertain whether her brother had got safe away or had
been recaptured after she parted from him."

" And you have got the exact address where she was to
meet her brother at Dover? " said the baronet, inquir-
ingly.

" I wrote it down on this slip of paper from Ariadne's
own lips," responded Mrs. Baines, " and here it is."

" Well, I wonder now whether that fellow James is ready
to take his departure," cried the baronet, looking at his
watch. " It is nine o'clock."

398 THE COURT OF LONDON

But at this moment the door opened, and the valet
James made his appearance, muffled up as for a journey.

" Now, James," said Sir Douglas Huntingdon, in a serious
tone, " I can of course rely upon you, as this matter is one
not only of delicacy but also most confidentially sacred.
You will travel with all possible speed to Dover, and there
you will seek this address," continued the baronet, placing
the slip of paper in the servant's hands. " You will ask for
Theodore Varian, and when you mention the name of
Ariadne as a pass-word you will obtain access to the same
Theodore. You will then give him this purse, and urge
him to lose no time in escaping to Calais. Tell him that
his sister has found kind friends in London, and that, more-
over, measures will be taken to obtain a free pardon for
himself. You may add that in the course of a day or two his
sister will write to him full particulars, addressed to the
post-office in Calais."

The baronet placed a heavy purse in the hands of his
faithful servant, who forthwith took his departure in a
post-chaise for Dover; and the moment he was gone Mrs.
Baines returned to Ariadne's chamber. The fair invalid
was just awaking from a deep slumber in which the good
housekeeper had left her ere now; and the assurance that
the messenger had departed to meet her brother at Dover
relieved her gentle breast of its chief anxiety. Doctor
Copperas presently paid her another visit, and declared
that she was going on as favourably as he could expect,
adding aside to Mrs. Baines, " that he did not think she
could have progressed better since midday, even if under
the care of that eminent and distinguished man, Doctor
Thurston."

CHAPTER XXXIV

SCARCELY had Mrs. Baines quitted the apartment where
she had been conversing with the baronet, when a domestic
entered to state that a female desired to speak with him
upon important business. Not knowing who she might be,
and never refusing a female visit, Sir Douglas Huntingdon
ordered her to be admitted. A woman, somewhat flauntingly
dressed and with a dark veil over her countenance, was
shown in; but the instant she crossed the threshold, and
even before she raised the veil, the baronet guessed who she
was. Nor was he mistaken, for, advancing toward him,
she lifted her veil and disclosed the features of Nell Gibson.

" Ah! I am glad you are come, I am delighted to see you
safe and sound, " he exclaimed, with the most unaffected
sincerity. " But, good heavens! how did you escape from
those murderous wretches? I have been tortured with the
cruellest alarms concerning you. At one moment I was
resolved to give information at Bow Street of all that had
occurred; but then I feared that if you had really escaped,
after all, I should only be compromising you, and that, for
many reasons, you are well aware I would not do for the
world. Besides which, I felt assured that if you escaped the
dangers and the violence that were imminent at the moment
I left the hut, you would escape altogether."

While the baronet was giving vent to these rapidly uttered
expressions, Nell Gibson seated herself near the fire and
gazed upon him with a species of tender interest that seemed
strange indeed with one who led such a life and possessed
such a heart as she.

" And how knew you," she said, in a gentle and even
tremulous voice, " that such dangers menaced me? "

400 THE COURT OF LONDON

" In the first place, because I discovered, when it was too
late, that I had revealed to a set of miscreants the kindness
you had shown toward me," answered the baronet, — "I
mean that man, that woman, and that youth whom I
accompanied back to the hut. Moreover, when I recovered
my senses while bound hand and foot in the room below, I
overheard the accusation of ' traitress ' levelled against
yourself, and then your piercing screams. Ah! Ellen, I can
assure you that those screams have rung in my ears ever
since! "

" And the young girl whom you brought away with you? "
said Nell Gibson, inquiringly.

" Oh, she is safe and will be taken care of," returned the
baronet. " But wherefore was she borne to the hut? "

" Do not ask me," said Nell Gibson. " For no good, you
may be sure. Ah! you do not appear satisfied with what I
say? Well, then, it was to make her as bad as I am."

" Enough! " ejaculated Sir Douglas Huntingdon, with a
shudder; and then he fixed his eyes upon Nell Gibson, as if
to scrutinize thoroughly her entire appearance.

" Ah! you may well look at me," she cried, in a tone of
bitterness. " I am no doubt changed since first you knew
me. That was four years ago. I was then a merry, laughing
girl of between fifteen and sixteen, — yes, and an innocent
girl, too — "

" Do not think of the past, Ellen," said the baronet,
scarcely able to suppress a sigh as he mentally compared the
young woman as she now appeared with the young girl as
she was a few years back. " You last night perilled your life
to save mine. Tell me, then, what can I do for you? "

" You will give me the hundred guineas for this letter,"
she said, producing the one which he had written at the hut.
" That is all I ask of you, and it will be the means of saving
my life."

" Can you fear for a moment that I shall hesitate? " ex-
claimed the baronet. " I will give you the hundred guineas
wherewith to appease those vile men; and I will give you
another hundred guineas, ay, or even three or four hundred,
for yourself."

" No, not a shilling, not a farthing," said Nell Gibson,
firmly and decisively. " Since the day I left you, never,
never have I sought succour at your hand; and I would

THE RAKE AND THE RAKE'S VICTIM 401

sooner perish, yes, perish miserably, than receive such
succour from you."

" But wherefore, Ellen? " said the baronet, in amazement.
" There is something unnatural, something perverse in this."

" No, it is natural enough, if you do but understand the
mind of a woman. Since I left you I have endured many
and many privations; I have known what it is to want
bread, ay, I have known what it is to feel starvation. Or
else do you think, if it had not been through some desperate
necessity, I should ever have fallen into the company in
which you found me last night? But even when perishing, as
it were, with famine, I never once applied to you."

" But you were wrong, Ellen, you were wrong," said the
baronet. " Whatever had occurred, my purse would always
have been open to you."

" Oh, yes, I knew that; and it was the thought of your
kindness that stung me to the very quick. And therefore,
so far from being wrong," she exclaimed, suddenly assuming
a proud look that for a moment rendered her really and truly
handsome, " so far from being in the wrong," she repeated,
" I was in the right; for although fallen so low and become
so debased, degraded, and vile, I still had my own little
feelings of pride — "

" With what wretched sophistry have you deluded your-
self! " interrupted the baronet. " Was I not your seducer?
Did I not inflict the most terrible wrong upon you which
selfish man can possibly perpetrate toward confiding
woman? "

" Ay, if we had always stood in the light of seducer and
victim," said Nell Gibson, " it would have been different.
Then I should have had a claim upon you, and would not
have hesitated to assert it. But if you inflicted the first
wrong upon me, I subsequently inflicted another upon you.
I proved faithless to you when you loved me so well and
cherished me so fondly. I deceived you most grossly, and
there was something vile, yes, beyond all expression vile, in
my conduct when I robbed and plundered you to expend the
proceeds of my iniquity upon a paramour. Well, then,
instead of remaining your victim I became a wrong-doer
toward you, and every claim that I might have possessed
upon your consideration was forfeited. Yes, I felt all this;
and again I tell you that I would sooner have died, ay, have

402 THE COURT OF LONDON

perished miserably, than have received as the pittance of
charity that which once came from a noble bounty. Rather
would I have sunk down through famine, than have obtained
from your pity that which I once received from your fondest
love. Besides, when I left you I was clothed in silk and
satin, and no earthly consideration would have induced me
to reappear before you in the rags of beggary."

" But still," observed the baronet, much moved by the
language which thus poured with such undoubted sincerity
from the young v/oman's lips, " but still in the depths of
your soul remained a certain fondness and affection for me;
otherwise you would not have perilled your life to save mine
last night."

" Listen to me," exclaimed Nell Gibson, " and I will
unfold to you the maze and mysteries of a woman's heart, — •
not merely of one woman, nor of my heart alone, but the
feeling which is peculiar to us all. In the bosom of the vilest,
most degraded, and most crime-stained of the unfortunate
women whom the lust of man or the iron sway of poverty
has flung upon the streets, yes, in the bosom of even the
foulest, lowest, and vilest prostitute, there is one small
sanctuary in which an image is treasured up as the idol of a
worship, and this is the image of the seducer. In retrospect-
ing over years of crime, the unfortunate woman carries her
recollections back to the period of her girlhood and her first
virgin love. Even though it was the love which robbed her of
that virginity and steeped her in disgrace, it is nevertheless
the one bright spot in her checkered career. Yes, if we
look back through a vista of rags and filth and poverty and
wretchedness and crime, still do we behold at the beginning
that bright and sunny period when hopes were golden and the
heart gushed forth with all the freshest feelings of youth.
Then is it that the image of the loved one, though perhaps
no longer loved, is reproduced vividly to the memory;
nor is he thought of as a mere seducer, no, nor is
that past springtide of joy looked back upon as the very
source whence all subsequent pollutions have flowed. Now,
then, do you understand me? Since I fled from you I have
received the embraces of many, many men; I have been
glad to sell myself for gold or for silver; I have given myself
up to suitors in moments of sensuality; at other times,
almost without passion and without impulse, I have aban-

THE RAKE AND THE RAKE'S VICTIM 403

doned myself to strangers through mere profligacy. And
yet, though thus drinking the cup of vice to the very dregs,
and dragging myself, as it were, through all kinds of moral
filth and pollution, there has still always been one image
that I have cherished in the sanctuary of my heart, and
which no stains of vice or shades of misery could possibly
efface. That image is yours; and you are the only living
being for whom I would have perilled my life last night or
would peril it again. Nay, had you been any other person,
I should have seen you killed without pity and without
remorse."

Sir Douglas Huntingdon had listened in speechless amaze-
ment to this address, which the young woman delivered
with an impressive seriousness that precluded all doubt
as to her sincerity. Besides which, her actions at the hut
had fully proven the existence of that sentiment with regard
to her seducer which she now explained; and as with rapid
glance the baronet's mental vision swept over the past, he
comprehended full well how such a state of feeling as that
which she had described could be.

Four year had elapsed since he had first encountered Ellen
Gibson upon one of his estates in a distant county. Her
parents were dead; she had no relatives, but was living with
friends. Her education had been tolerably well cared for;
indeed, she had been reared in a manner above her means
or her expectations. The baronet saw her and loved her;
and she loved him in return. Marriage was not spoken of
between a man of rank and wealth and a young girl of rustic
parentage; but she became his mistress. He brought her
to London, lodged her in a sumptuous mansion, gave her
carriages, horses, servants, — in fine, all the luxuries and
elegancies of life. But she soon formed other connections;
and her profligacy, developing itself with remarkable sudden-
ness, hurried her away with a sort of frenetic speed. Sir
Douglas discovered her infidelity, and wrote to remonstrate,
even offering her forgiveness; for he was infatuated with her
at the time. But instead of answering his note, she sold off
the entire contents of the mansion, the carriages, horses,
even to his own plate which she had with her at the time;
and taking her departure, she lavished the produce upon a
paramour who had not a single quality, personal, mental,
or social, that could compare with those of the baronet.

404 THE COURT OF LONDON

Since that period her career had been one of those rapid
downward ones which furnish so many a history of female
crime; and therefore seeing what she now was, and what
she once had been, Sir Douglas Huntingdon could scarcely
feel astonished if from the dark depths of her present position
she occasionally cast wistful, longing, and even loving eyes
backward upon that epoch which formed the brightest page
in her life's history.

" But wherefore/' he said, after a long pause, " should
you go back to those dreadful men? Tell me, would you like
to abandon the sort of existence you are now leading? "

" God knows I would! " returned the young woman, in a
voice expressive of the deepest feeling. " But it is impossible,
it is impossible," she immediately added, shaking her head,
while an expression of unutterable despair swept over her
countenance.

" Why impossible? " demanded the baronet, in amaze-
ment. " Can you not to-morrow, if you choose, retire into
some agreeable seclusion? What if I were to go early in the
morning and take a nice respectable lodging for you — "

" Oh, no, no, it is impossible," interrupted Nell Gibson,
impatiently. " You are not aware, you cannot imagine how
difficult it is to extricate oneself from the meshes of crime."

" Do you mean to tell me," said the baronet, contemplat-
ing the young woman in dismay, " solemnly and seriously
tell me, that you are so inveterately wedded to this shocking
course of life — "

" My God! no, ten thousand times no! " interrupted Nell
Gibson, a sort of agony sweeping over her features. " Have
I not told you that I would abandon this wretched, wretched
mode of life if I could? And, oh, words have no power to
tell the deep, deep horror, the intense loathing, which I at
times feel for such an existence. Ere now I spoke of my
depravities, and I said that often, when neither tempted by
gold nor prompted by passion, I flung myself into the em-
braces of the merest strangers. Well, perhaps if I had
described my humour on such occasions as the recklessness of
despair, instead of the wantonness of sheer depravity, I
should have been nearer the mark. Yes, to drive away
thought I must always have some kind of excitement. I hate
brandy, but I drink it often and often ; I feel that it hardens
me. I am always ready to do anything wrong, ay, even to

THE RAKE AND THE RAKE'S VICTIM 405

commit unnecessary or unprofitable crimes, sooner than do
nothing; and for the same reason do I seek the excitement
of all possible profligacies. By these means do I expel
thought, and thus manage to maintain a calm and even
happy exterior."

" But wherefore, I again ask," said the baronet, " should
you not abandon this course of life if you wish? Wherefore
return to those horrible companions? "

" Because I am so utterly and completely in their power,"
answered the young woman. " Wherever I might hide my-
self, they would seek me out. Ay, even did I fly to the ends
of the earth, they would pursue me, they would discover
my retreat, they would murder me. When once a person
gets deep in with such companionship, it is impossible to
extricate oneself. No, it cannot be done. You see how
completely I am in the power of those wretches, by coming
here for these hundred guineas to propitiate them."

"Ah! and this reminds me to inquire," said the baronet,
" how you saved yourself from their fury, and what colouring
you gave to the adventure."

" That man who enticed you back to the hut was none
other than the public executioner," replied Nell Gibson.
" There, start not, speak not. What matters it now who he
was? I tell you all this, of course being well aware that you
will take no advantage of it. The woman who came with him
is his mistress, and the lad is his apprentice. Sally Melmoth
— that is the woman's name — has long had a spite against
me, because she fancies I have been overintimate with her
flash man. But no, not for the world! Base and profligate
as I know I am, there is a lower depth even than the lowest
to which I have sunk, and that is the arms of the public
hangman. But to return to last night's affair. The Hang-
man and the apprentice prevented the infuriate woman from
doing me a mischief; and while the Hangman himself burst
open the door and rushed after you and the young girl, his
mistress and the lad kept guard upon me. Presently the
Hangman came back, after a fruitlesss search; and almost
at the same time the other men returned from an equally
unavailing hunt after you. They were all savage enough,
and I thought that everything was over with me. So I pre-
pared for the worst. The Hangman told the other men how
you had sought refuge at the public-house in the by-lane,

406 THE COURT OF LONDON

how you had innocently let slip the admission that you
owed your life to me, and how he had enticed you back to the
hut to be disposed of as the whole gang should think fit.
The man that I am now living with — he who brought you
down the writing-paper and who is called the Buttoner —
then declared that from the first moment he suspected I had
given you such information, and this suspicion on his part
had been confirmed by the circumstance that I had acci-
dentally let out to that stout man, whose name is Bencull,
that you were a baronet, this circumstance proving that I
knew you before. All these statements and remarks were
made in my presence, and ferocious looks glared upon me
from every eye. I saw that nothing but the sudden exertion
of all my presence of mind could save me, and I accordingly
exclaimed, ' Well, I confess that all you have said is true; but
the man whose life I have this night saved was my first love,
— indeed, the only man I ever sincerely and truly did love.
I knew it was vain and useless to beg his life at your hands,
and therefore I gave him the whispered information which
led him to flee. You may kill me if you like; but I would do
so over again this moment, in spite of all consequences.
That is, however, no reason why I should betray you in other
things, and you know right well that I would not.' They were
all much struck by these remarks, but more so by the boldness
of my manner. I thereupon proceeded to assure them that
you would not take any proceedings against them, for fear
of compromising me. As a proof thereof, I offered to come
to your house to-day and obtain from you these hundred
guineas for them. These assurances satisfied the whole
party, the Hangman's mistress alone excepted. Three of
the men have now accompanied me as far as your door,
and are waiting at this moment in the street. You see,
therefore," added Nell Gibson, with that calmness which
was her outward characteristic, " how true I spoke when I
declared that it was impossible to escape from the trammels
of crime and the meshes of such companionship."

Thus ended the colloquy between this young woman and
her seducer. She received the hundred guineas for which
she had called, but again did she emphatically decline any
boon or gift for herself. The baronet accompanied her as
far as the front door of his house; and standing upon the
threshold for a few minutes to look after her, he observed

THE RAKE AND THE RAKE'S VICTIM 407

by the light of the lamps that she joined three men at the
corner of the street.

" Women are strange creatures! " thought the baronet
to himself, as he retraced his way to his own cheerful fireside.

CHAPTER XXXV

MORE PLOTTING AND COUNTERPLOTTING

THE three men whom Nell Gibson thus joined were the
But toner, Bencull, and the Hangman; and passing rapidly
away from the fashionable street where Sir Douglas Hunting-
don lived, they plunged into a low district in the close
vicinity. For be it observed that in London the back win-
dows of the palaces of the rich often look upon the noisome
dens where the poor — their victims — dwell.

Entering a vile public-house, or boozing-ken, the three
men and Nell Gibson proceeded to the tap-room, and as there
was no one else there at the time, they were enabled to
converse at their ease.

" Now, Nell," said the Buttoner, as soon as an order had
been given for some liquor, " what news? I suppose you
succeeded with your pal, the baronet."

" Here is the money," she observed, quietly producing
gold and bank-notes for a hundred guineas.

" And you couldn't get no more out of him? " observed
Bencull, savagely.

" Not a farthing," answered Nell Gibson. " I had a great
deal of difficulty in getting this."

" Then he was deuced ungrateful," said the Hangman,
" after all you did for him last night."

" Yes, very," replied the young woman.

" And didn't you learn nothink about that sweet young
gal? " demanded Bencull.

" Only that Sir Douglas, on ascertaining who she was,
restored her to her friends." And in giving this answer
Nell Gibson was prompted by the same feeling which had
inspired her conduct throughout toward the baronet,
namely, to do nothing that should in any way injure pr

408

PLOTTING AND COUNTERPLOTTING 409

annoy him, but, on the contrary, anything she could to serve
him.

" Well, this is perwoking," exclaimed Bencull, " to lose
that young gal after all the trouble I had in getting possession
of her! But there's one more question, and that is, whether
there's any chance of a safe crack in the baronet's house? "

" Eh! that's the question," said the Hangman, instinc-
tively tapping his capacious pocket to show that he had his
burglarious apparatus concealed about his person.

" I examined the hall well, as I went in and came out,"
said Nell Gibson, " but I don't think that an entry can be
made in that quarter. In fact, I scarce think from what
I saw that it would be worth while to attempt it at all."

" Now mind you, I think just the contrary," cried the
Hangman, with an oath, for he had been watching Nell
Gibson's countenance from under his overhanging brows,
and he felt convinced in his own mind that she was doing all
she could to shield the baronet.

" I say let us try the crack," exclaimed the Buttoner,
sharing the Hangman's suspicions.

" And I say," added Bencull, " that if I do it alone, it
shall be done. There's a coach-house and stable adjoining
the baronet's mansion, and we can easy get through that way
to the back of the premises. Then, when once at the back of
a house, I should like to see the doors or windows that would
keep me out."

" Well, then, it's agreed," said the Hangman. " Let me
see," he continued, looking at a great silver watch which
he pulled from his fob, " it's now half-past ten o'clock. We
will wait here till twelve, and that shall be the hour. The
lush is good at this ken, and the landlord knows me."

" Will you stay here, then, Nell? " inquired the Buttoner,
"or go home to Bermondsey and get to bed comfortable,
while I stay to do the trick? "

" Just as you like," answered Nell, with apparent in-
difference, though in her heart she was most anxious to get
away at once.

" Well, then," said the Buttoner, also affecting the utmost
carelessness in the matter, " I should think you had better
get get home as quick as you can."

" So be it," said Nell Gibson, rising from her seat. Then,
with a laugh, she observed to her paramour the Buttoner,

410 THE COURT OF LONDON

" Mind in dividing that swag you remember my regulars,"
and she pointed to the money on the table.

" All right, Nell," said the Buttoner; and the young
woman then took her departure.

" What did you let her go for? " demanded the Hangman,
savagely, the moment the door closed behind her. " Curse
me if I don't think she's been playing us false again with
this baronet — "

" That's just my opinion," interrupted the Buttoner,
starting from his seat, " and it's 'cos why I think so that
I persuaded her to be off so that I may have an opportunity
of watching her. I shall be back at midnight, at all events,
if not sooner."

Having thus spoken, he turned up the collar of his coat,
slouched his hat over his countenance, and then hastened
from the boozing-ken. On emerging into the street, he
caught a glimpse of Nell Gibson by the light of a lamp, just
as she was turning around the corner; and having once got
upon the right track, he had no difficulty in keeping her in
view, still leaving such a distance between them as to pre-
vent her from perceiving that she was thus dogged. At
first, however, she kept halting, turning around, looking and
listening, every two or three minutes; but at length, being
perfectly satisfied that there was no watch set upon her,
she increased her pace, and made straight for the almonry in
Westminster, which was about a mile from the boozing-ken
she had so recently left.

The almonry is one of those dreadful neighbourhoods
where pauperism is most intense, squalor most hideous,
demoralization most depraved. It consists chiefly of
brothels and such like dens of infamy, and forms part of the
domain belonging as an endowment to Westminster Abbey.
But inasmuch as loathsome hotbeds of vice and moral
lazar-houses of that kind usually produce a good rent, the
dean and chapter could not of course think of purging a
neighbourhood which yielded them such large revenues.

In the midst of that morass so densely peopled with human
reptiles, and exhaling so pestilential an atmosphere, was
situated a low boozing-ken known as Meg Blowen's crib.
It differed from Bencull's establishment in Jacob's Island
inasmuch as it had not the appearance of a private dwelling,
but was open like any other public-house, and had a large

PLOTTING AND COUNTERPLOTTING 411

room on the ground floor always filled at night with the vilest
of the vile and the lowest of the low.

To this place did Nell Gibson wend her way, the Buttoner
still following at a distance. Entering the establishment,
she tarried for a few minutes in the public-room to exchange
some friendly observations with her acquaintances there;
and having thus dispensed her courtesies to the leading
members of the gang, she passed into Meg Blowen's — that
is to say, the landlady's — private room behind the bar.
If we follow her thither and peep in at her proceedings, we
shall observe that she requested to be furnished with pen,
ink, and paper; and having written a letter, she summoned
into her presence a lad whom she believed to be the most
trustworthy amongst the juvenile portion of reprobates there
assembled. Making him secure about his person the letter
which she had written, she bade him hasten and deliver it at
an address which she named, and to depart from the house
the moment he placed the letter in the hands of the servant
answering the door. Having thus explicitly given her in-
structions, she placed five shillings in the lad's hands, and
he set forth with great glee to execute his commission.

But to return to the Buttoner, we must observe that on
seeing Nell Gibson enter Meg Blowen's he was more than
ever convinced she had some artifice in view; and looking
through the window, he first saw her converse with her ac-
quaintances in the public-room, and then pass into the pri-
vate parlour behind the bar. He next saw Meg Blowen reach
down the pen and ink from a shelf, take a sheet of paper out
of a drawer, and then carry these writings materials into the
parlour. It would have struck any individual even far less
astute than the Buttoner that Nell Gibson was going to send
a written communication somewhere, and he therefore
remained intently upon the watch. In a few minutes he saw
Nell Gibson appear at the door of the parlour, cast her eyes
searchingly around upon the motley assemblage, and select
one of the lads. The youth thus singled out was (as already
stated) summoned by her into the parlour, and in a short
time he reappeared. But instead of rejoining his companions
at the table in the public-room, he at once issued forth from
the establishment.

The Buttoner followed him until they were at a convenient
distance from the place; then, looking back and perceiving

412 THE COURT OF LONDON

the coast was clear, he overtook the boy, and, clutching him
by the collar, said, in a fierce tone, " Now, my lad, a word
with you."

" Holloa, Mister Buttoner," exclaimed the youth, catching
a glimpse of the man's countenance by the light gleaming
from a window. " What do you mean by stopping me like
this here? "

" Oh, you know me, do you, young feller? " cried the
Buttoner. " Well, so much the better; we shall sooner
come to an understanding. Now then, you have nothing to
fear, because I shall let you keep whatever the young woman
has just given you, and I will give you double myself into
the bargain."

" Well, she gived me a guinea," said the boy, prompt with
a lie and ready with a cheat.

" Wery good," observed the Buttoner. " Then of course
you can show it me? "

" Won't you take a genelman's word? " asked the lad,
impudently.

" No nonsense," responded the Buttoner, bestowing a
hearty shake upon the youth. " Come, show us what Nell
Gibson gave yer, and I'll double it."

" Well, by goles! it's turned into a crown," said the boy,
producing a five-shilling piece. " It's the reg'lar counterfeit
crank she's come over me."

" Nonsense," interrupted the Buttoner. Then pulling a
handful of silver from his pocket, and counting out ten
shillings, he said, " Now give me the letter you've got about
you, walk about for half an hour or so, and go back and tell
the young woman that you've done her commission quite
faithful."

The ten shillings chinked in the boy's hand, the Buttoner
grasped the letter, and they separated, the latter returning
to the boozing-ken where he had left the Hangman and
Bencull. In a few hasty words he explained to them all
that had occurred, and on opening the letter, which was
addressed to Sir Douglas Huntingdon, the contents were
found to be as follows:

" Look well to your premises to-night. A burglary is
contemplated by some of the men you saw at the hut on
Shooter's Hill. I said all I could to prevent this further

PLOTTING AND COUNTERPLOTTING 413

annoyance toward you; but I could not succeed in staving
it off. I am very much afraid that they suspected I was
playing a part; if so, all these causes of suspicion will make
it go hard with me sooner or later. But no matter; what-
ever is to happen must take its course. I would have come
back to warn you of the attempt that will be made, but I am
so fearful that one of the men might go and watch the street.
So I prefer writing, and have found a trusty messenger. I
think the men will enter by the coach-house and get around
to the back of the premises ; but you must keep watch at all
points. One thing, however, I conjure you, that is not to
adopt any means to take them into custody, nor yet to do
them any unnecessary hurt; only just to defend and protect
yourself. This is most likely the last time you will ever
hear of or from —

" ELLEN."

The rage of the Hangman, Bencull, and the Buttoner, on
reading this epistle, may be better conceived than described.
Daniel Coffin muttered such awful threats against the young
woman, that if his two companions had not been kindred
fiends, their blood would have run cold. But when the first
ebullition of their diabolical wrath was expended, they
agreed after calmer and cooler deliberation to conceal for the
present their knowledge of this additional treachery on
Nell Gibson's part, with a view to ascertain by some means
or other whether she were also betraying them in respect to
the plot initiated against Larry Sampson.

By the time this resolution was fairly discussed and
adopted by the three villains, the Hangman's watch showed
that it was midnight. They accordingly tossed off bumpers
of brandy to drink success to their undertaking, and thus
inspired with a more than natural amount of brute courage,
they repaired in the direction of Sir Douglas Huntingdon's
mansion.

Although the street where the house was situated was a
fashionable one, it was no great thoroughfare, and by the
aid of the Hangman's skeleton keys the coach-house door
was soon opened. The three ruffians, having thus let them-
selves into this portion of the establishment, locked the door
behind them, and then proceeded to light a " darkey,"
or lantern, which also formed part of the invariable tackle

414 THE COURT OF LONDON

of a cracksman. In the rear of the coach-house were the
stables, in which there were several horses; and there was
a door behind, leading into a yard at the back of the house.
The three burglars accordingly entered the stable for the
purpose of passing through by the way described; but two
of the horses exhibited such manifestations of terror by
kicking and plunging, as if instinctively aware of the presence
of intruders, that a groom who slept in a chamber above
the coach-house was aroused from his repose.

Leaping from his bed, and arming himself with a pair of
pistols, the groom sprang down the ladder leading to his
chamber; but he was instantaneously seized by the three
burglars, against whom he made a desperate resistance. The
lantern was dashed out of the Hangman's hand, and the
glass broken against the wall. It then fell upon a heap of
straw, the light remaining unextinguished. The same blow
which dashed the lantern from Coffin's hand knocked him
violently down; and he lay half-stunned upon the floor
for nearly a minute, during which Bencull and the Buttoner
succeeded in overpowering the groom.

" Let's give him his gruel, Ben," cried the Buttoner, as
they both dashed the unfortunate man with all their strength
against the wall, so that he groaned heavily once, and then
fell, lying motionless, either dead or else stunned beyond all
hope of recovery.

But scarcely was this crime accomplished, when the
sudden blazing of the straw on which the lantern had
fallen startled the burglars. From the Buttoner's lips burst
the cry of " Fire! " The Hangman, who had just recovered
his senses, sprang as if galvanized to his feet; and Bencull at
once began to throw pails of water upon the burning material,
there being a pump in the coach-house. But this endeavour
to extinguish the flame speedily proving utterly ineffectual,
the three burglars were compelled to depart as stealthily
and promptly as they could.

Sir Douglas Huntingdon had not as yet retired to rest.
The story which he had heard from the lips of his house-
keeper relative to the troubles of Theodore and Ariadne
Varian — together with the singular and touching features
of his interview with Nell Gibson — had furnished him with
so much food for reflection that he remained sitting by his
cheerful fireside, lost in serious meditation. All the rest of

PLOTTING AND COUNTERPLOTTING 415

the household had retired to their chambers, a profound
stillness reigned through the house,' and not a sound reached
his ears from without. But all on a sudden this dead, deep
silence — this awe-inspiring solemnity of the midnight
hour — was broken by that most terrible of all alarms, the
cry of " Fire! "

Startled from his reflections as if by the voice of doom
thundering in his ear, and springing from his seat as if stung
by an adder, Sir Douglas Huntingdon rushed from the room
and bounded forth to the front door to ascertain whether the
alarm were real and where the fire was. In an instant he ac-
quired the dreadful certainty that it was neither a cruel jest
nor a false rumour; for the moment he opened the front
door, the vivid light flashed upon his eyes, and he beheld the
flames bursting forth from the windows of the rooms above
the coach-house. Already, too, were crowds hurrying
thither, the alarm was spreading to the neighbouring dwell-
ings, and all the usual features of such a scene were manifest-
ing themselves in their variety, confusion, and excitement.

Several persons sprang toward Sir Douglas, some proffering
their advice, others demanding how many people slept in his
house, and in which rooms they were. In a moment he was
overwhelmed with multitudinous questions and bewildered
with conflicting counsels. Then came a couple of watchmen
springing their rattles; next appeared three or four hulking
fellows bearing along a ladder and knocking down all who
got in their way, and all this while the crowd was collecting
and the flames were bursting forth with increasing fury.

But Sir Douglas Huntingdon soon recovered his presence
of mind, and rushing back into the house he raised the fearful
alarm of fire, which did not appear as yet to have reached the
ears of any inmate save himself. In a few moments all was
bustle, confusion, and dismay within the walls of the mansion.
Mrs. Baines came rushing down in her night-clothes, and
overcome with terror, she fainted in the hall. Some of the
other servants soon made their appearance also; and as the
flames had now spread from the coach-house to the mansion
itself, several active persons amongst the crowd began
rapidly to remove all the most portable articles of furniture
into the street. The ladder was raised against the front of
the house in case of need, to facilitate escape from the upper
stories, and messengers were despatched for a fire-engine.

416 THE COURT OF LONDON

Meantime the baronet, struck with horror at the idea
that his groom slept over the coach-house, — and having
satisfied himself that the other servants were all safe, —
rushed to the back of the premises and opened the door
leading from the yard to the stable. Several persons followed
him; but the instant that stable-door was opened, two or
three of the horses sprang madly forth, trampling down
those who were in their way. Sir Douglas himself was thus
much hurt by one of the affrighted animals; but rushing
forward, he sought to penetrate into the stable. A volume
of flame, bursting forth, drove him back; and to his horror
he heard the piteous sounds of dying agony which proved
that several of his horses were perishing in the flames. But
the groom, — the poor unfortunate groom, — where was he?
Again did Sir Douglas spring forward in order to penetrate
into the coach-house; but again did a volume of smoke
drive him back. A third time did he make the attempt; and
now the ceiling of coach-house and stable fell in with a terrific
crash, and if two of the men who had followed the baronet
hither had not suddenly pulled him back as they, heard the
rafters giving way, he would have been buried in the
ruins.

For a few moments the flames seemed stifled in this part
of the premises; but as a long tongue of fire suddenly shot
up, lambent and lurid again, the baronet observed by the
light that the fall of the ceiling had brought down with it a
considerable portion of the partition wall separating the
stabling department from the mansion itself. A large
portion of the interior of the dwelling-house was thus re-
vealed, including a back staircase leading up to the bed-
chambers.

At this moment the recollection flashed to the baronet's
mind that he had not ere now seen Ariadne Varian amongst
the other inmates of the mansion whose safety was assured.
Indeed, the poor girl had been forgotten. Mrs. Baines had
swooned, as already stated, and had been borne to a neigh-
bour's house, where she fell into alarming hysterics; and,
on the other hand, Sir Douglas Huntingdon's attention had
been mainly directed toward the coach-house and stabling.
Thus was it that the only two persons who were likely to
think of poor Ariadne were prevented by circumstances
from doing so, until the sudden laying bare of the private

PLOTTING AND COUNTERPLOTTING 417

staircase to the view of the baronet led him to pass in rapid
array in his mind every chamber to which that staircase
led.

The instant that the image of Ariadne thus flashed to his
recollection, he gave utterance to a cry of mingled anguish
and despair; then, springing forward, he clambered through
the vast aperture which the falling in of the partition wall
had caused, and he thus gained the interior of the dwelling-
house. Passing into the hall, he found his servants and
many strangers busy in removing the furniture. He made
rapid inquiries concerning Ariadne, but the servants had
forgotten her, and the strangers had seen no young damsel
answering to her description descend the stairs.

Horrible uncertainty! All the upper part of the house
was in a perfect conflagration. The street was as light as if
it were daytime, and one wretched engine was making the
most ineffectual attempts to quench the fire. The ladder
itself had caught the flames gushing forth from the upper
windows. And here we may observe that the crowds
augmented; and amongst them were the Hangman, Bencull,
and the Buttoner, all three hovering about to see what piece
of good luck the chapter of accidents might throw in their
way.

From all that has been said, hurried and brief though the
description be, the reader will understand that the flames
had spread like wild-fire in an incredibly short space of time.
Catching the chambers above the coach-house, they had
thence burst into the mansion, all the upper part of which
was now enveloped in a terrific blaze. To ascend therefore
to the rooms above appeared an act of frenzy or of despera-
tion. But Ariadne's life was at stake, and this thought was
sufficient to nerve the baronet with the strength and courage
of a thousand.

Retracing his way from the hall to the back staircase,
he rushed up it. It was the same as a besieger scaling the
walls of a town, while all kinds of igneous missiles and com-
bustibles are showered down upon him. Sir Douglas had
literally to ascend through gushing flames and volumes of
smoke, — flames that scorched and smoke that blinded ;
but he was resolved to rescue Ariadne, or perish in the
attempt. In a few seconds he reached her chamber door.
Bursting it open, he beheld her lying senseless on the carpet.

418 THE COURT OF LONDON

Through the wainscoted wall the flames were already gush-
ing; the heat was intense, the smoke stifling. In less than
a minute the maiden would have been suffocated, whereas
she was as yet unscathed by the fire, and had most probably
fainted through terror when endeavouring to escape from
her room on the first alarm of fire.

To snatch her up in his arms and bear her forth was the
work of a moment. Her head drooped back upon the baronet's
shoulder, and she continued senseless as he rushed with her
down the staircase. Rushed indeed! it was plunging as it
were into a fiery furnace; and rapid as the lightning-flash
did the thought sweep through the baronet's mind that it
would be a miracle if he and his fair burden reached the
street in safety. Vast masses of the partition wall kept falling
in; and it seemed as if the whole building were about to
give way and bury himself and Ariadne in the smoking,
burning ruins. Great pieces of timber — especially rude
planks belonging to the lofts above the stables — came
crashing down; and thus, in the space of three or four
short minutes, did the baronet and the unconscious Ariadne
pass through countless perils of an appalling character.
But at length the damsel's brave deliverer reached the foot
of the staircase, and as he rushed with his burden through
the hall and appeared with her at the street door, a tremen-
dous shout of applause arose from the assembled multi-
tudes.

At the very instant that Sir Douglas Huntingdon thus
reached the threshold of the mansion with the still inanimate
Ariadne in his arms, and in the strong glare of the terrific
conflagration, the maiden was recognized by Bencull. This
discovery of the fair stranger of the hut was in a moment
communicated by the ruffian in a hurried whisper to the
Buttoner and the Hangman, and they all three instinctively
pressed forward toward the front door steps. At that very
instant Sir Douglas Huntingdon felt a sudden faintness
come over him, doubtless in consequence of the tremendous
excitement as well as painful exertions through which he
had just passed.

" Who will take care of this young lady? " he cried, as one
of his footmen threw an ample cloak over the half-naked
form of Ariadne.

But scarcely were the words spoken by the baronet,

420 THE COURT OF LONDON

villainous were the countenances of the fellows whom he
thus addressed.

" The fact is," said the Hangman, in a rapid whisper, " we
have got a young gal that is intended for his lordship. She's
in a fit, and so you can just lift her into the house without
fearing any noise, and one of us will call for the recompense
the first thing to-morrow morning."

Brockman naturally concluded from this statement that
the fellows had been hired by his master, or else by some
one in his lordship's interest, to perform this particular
service, and he therefore at once consented to receive the
maiden without asking another question. The housekeeper
who was sitting up for Brockman was summoned, and with
her aid the valet lifted Ariadne out of the coach and carried
her into the mansion.

The vehicle then drove away, the three ruffians congratu-
lating themselves not only on having done something to
annoy Sir Douglas Huntingdon, whom they regarded as a
sort of enemy, but likewise on having adopted so bold a step
as to convey the damsel direct to the spot where her charms
were marketable, instead of conducting the bargain through
the medium of a middle woman, such as Mrs. Gale. But not
for a moment did those ruffians experience the slightest re-
morse for having caused so terrible a conflagration in that
house beneath the ruins of which the charred and blackened
remains of the unfortunate groom were indubitably
buried.

Meantime Sir Douglas Huntingdon, who had been thrown
down and stunned by the rush of people from the front door
of his mansion, was borne to a neighbour's house, where
immediate restoratives were applied. On coming to himself
his first inquiry was for Ariadne; but those by whom he
was surrounded could give him no information on the subject.
Supposing that she had been taken to some other house in the
vicinage, he sallied forth into the street again to make
further inquiries on the subject. But neither from his own
servants, who were watching over the property removed out
of the house, nor from any of the crowd, could he obtain
a satisfactory answer. In fact, no tidings could he glean of
Ariadne from the moment that he sank down insensible in
front of his own door.

Tortured with cruel misgivings, he sped from house to

PLOTTING AND COUNTERPLOTTING 421

house prosecuting his inquiries, up and down the street, but
all in vain. At length he was compelled, through sheer
exhaustion, to abandon any further research for the present,
and retire to a neighbouring hotel where he took up his tem-
porary quarters.

CHAPTER XXXVI

ON recovering her senses, Ariadne Varian found herself
in bed; and sweeping her eyes rapidly around, as a flood of
recollections poured in unto her brain, she at once saw that
it was not the same chamber which she had occupied at Sir
Douglas Huntingdon's. Handsome as that chamber was,
this was far more elegantly furnished, and denoted a more
exquisite refinement in taste, or rather in luxury.

A middle-aged woman, looking like a housekeeper, was
seated by the bedside; and though the instant Ariadne
opened her eyes, this female endeavoured to look kindly and
speak soothingly, yet it was not with the same motherly
tenderness evinced by Mrs. Baines.

No suspicion of treachery, however, entered Ariadne's
mind. Collecting her ideas, she remembered that she had
been alarmed with cries of " Fire," that springing from her
couch she had beheld the ominous glare at the window of
her chamber, and that the noise of the gathering crowds in
the streets had reached her ears. She also recollected that,
overcome with terror, she had felt her limbs failing and her
strength abandoning her; and as she remembered nothing
more until the instant she awoke in this strange apartment
where she now found herself, she naturally concluded
that her reminiscences had been interrupted by a long
swoon.

Utterly unaware, therefore, how her life was saved, and
who had saved it, — unconscious, indeed, of every feature
and detail of the terrible conflagration, — her first hurried
questions were to inquire where she was, what extent of
damage had been done, and whether any lives were lost.
Then, before even a single one of these queries was answered,

422

ANOTHER LAMB IN THE LION'S DEN 423

she exclaimed with looks and accents of torturing suspense,
" Tell me, is Sir Douglas Huntingdon safe? "

The questions so hurriedly and excitedly put were each
and all equally puzzling to the Marquis of Leveson's house-
keeper, who was even more ignorant than Ariadne herself
relative to what had occurred, seeing that she, of course, did
not know who the damsel was, whence she had been brought,
or that any particular house had been on fire. Being, how-
ever, of an astute and cunning disposition, as the housekeeper
of such a nobleman ought to be, the woman gave Ariadne
such vague and general, but at the same time reassuring
answers, that while she tranquillized the maiden's mind on
the one hand, she elicited on the other fresh questions which
in themselves were explanations of what had occurred.

" You assure me, then, that my kind-hearted benefactor,
Sir Douglas Huntingdon, is safe? " said Ariadne.

" Yes, quite safe."

" Is the house totally consumed? And am I indebted to
a neighbour's hospitality for this asylum? "

" I am afraid the damage is great, and you are freely
welcome here."

" Was it the baronet who saved me? " inquired Ariadne,
secretly wishing in her heart that the response would be in
the affirmative.

" Yes, he rescued you. You were senseless, I suppose? "

" I had fainted through terror the moment I heard the
alarm of fire."

" Ah! poor young lady, and enough too to frighten you!
I presume you are some relation to Sir Douglas Hunting-
don?"

" Not the least," returned Ariadne. " He is my benefactor,
that is to say, he has behaved handsomely, kindly, and nobly
toward me, although I have only known him for I may say
a few hours, indeed since last night. But this reminds me
that his excellent housekeeper, Mrs. Baines, has behaved
like a mother to me. Do you know whether she is quite
safe? "

" I have already told you," answered Lord Leveson's
housekeeper, " that no lives have been lost."

" Is Mrs. Baines here in this house? "

" No, but at a neighbour's."

" Ah! I understand," said Ariadne. " When so dreadful

424 THE COURT OF LONDON

an occurrence as a fire takes place, in a house, the inmates
speedily become dispersed throughout the neighbourhood."

" Yes, that is always the case."

" And now tell me beneath whose roof I have found an
asylum? " asked Ariadne.

" Have you ever heard of a nobleman named Leveson —
the Marquis of Leveson?" inquired the housekeeper, with
becoming caution.

" No, never — Oh, yes, I answered too hastily," said
Ariadne, suddenly correcting herself, as she remembered
having read that the Mr. Dysart who was hung a short time
back was the husband of the Marquis of Leveson's niece.
" I have heard his lordship's name mentioned, now that I
think of it, but quite in a casual manner! "

" Well, then, should you be pleased or otherwise," asked
the housekeeper, " if you heard that you were beneath the
roof of the Marquis of Leveson? "

" I should esteem myself highly honoured," returned
Ariadne, with that simplicity of prejudice in favour of the
aristocracy which was natural with one who had never been
taught, either by lessons or by experience, to loathe, hate,
and abominate that aristocracy as the greatest curse that
God in his wrath or Satan in his malignity ever inflicted
upon a country.

" Well, then," said the housekeeper, " this is the mansion
of the Marquis of Leveson, and I occupy an important post
in his lordship's household. His lordship is an excellent
man, and I am sure that you will like him amazingly when
you come to know him. Besides which, he is certain to feel
a great interest in you after your adventure of this night.
And then, too, there is this beautiful niece, Lady Ernestina
Dysart, one of the handsomest and finest women in England.
Ah! how unfortunate she has been," added the housekeeper,
shaking her head with much apparent solemnity.

" Yes, I know to what you allude," said Ariadne, with a
profound sigh, as the thought of Dysart's fate, by a natural
association, conjured up ideas of Newgate, and forcibly
reminded her of her brother Theodore's recent misfortunes.
" It was when reading certain circumstances in the news-
paper that I first became acquainted with the name of the
Marquis of Leveson."

" Well, my dear young lady," said the housekeeper, " I

ANOTHER LAMB IN THE LION'S DEN 425

need not tell you that it was a sad and shocking blow for
his lordship and his lordship's niece. But I see that I must
not chatter in this way to you any longer. Pray compose
yourself to rest. I will leave a light in your room, and on
this table by your bedside you will find cordials, restoratives,
and various kinds of refreshment, should you feel exhausted
or faint. I will visit you early in the morning, and hope to
learn that you have slept off the effects of the alarm and
nervousness produced by the fire."

The housekeeper then withdrew, and Ariadne speedily
sank into a profound slumber, little suspecting into what a
maze of perils she had been so perfidiously betrayed.

The first thing in the morning Brockman acquainted the
marquis with the arrival of a young lady in the middle of the
night; and as the valet had been conversing with the house-
keeper only a few minutes before he repaired to his master's
chamber, he had gleaned from her lips all that she herself had
gleaned from Ariadne's. The Marquis of Leveson was un-
feignedly astonished when he heard of this arrival, and
Brockman saw at once that his master had really not ex-
pected any such occurrence.

But while they were still deliberating upon the event, and
the valet was explaining to the marquis how the fair stranger
had spoken of Sir Douglas Huntingdon and the fire which
had occurred at his house, a footman knocked at the door
to announce that a man, who declined giving his name,
solicited an immediate audience of his lordship. That this
was one of the men who had brought the fair stranger to the
mansion during the night was presumable; and the marquis,
anxious to learn more of the matter, at once proceeded to
the room where the individual was waiting.

The visitor was none other than the Hangman, dressed
out in his very best apparel; but his ill-favoured counte-
nance and sinister look were not much improved by the
advantages of a Sunday garb. However, the marquis did not
expect to encounter an elegant gentleman in the individual
who had brought the fair stranger to his house, but at the
same time he little suspected that the ruffian who now
stood in his presence was the public executioner, the man
who had been admitted into the joint confidence of his
niece Ernestina and the prince regent relative to the affair
of the deceased Paul Dysart.

426 THE COURT OF LONDON

" Well, and what is your business? " inquired the noble-
man.

" I called about the young girl that me and a couple of
pals of mine left here last night/' said the Hangman, with
the most brazen effrontery.

" And pray," demanded the marquis, assuming a stern
look, " what made you bring that young female hither? "

" You see, my lord," replied Daniel Coffin, " Sir Douglas
Huntingdon's house was burned to the ground during the
past night. Me and my pals happened to be mingling quite
promiscuous in the crowd that the fire collected, and, lo
and behold! the baronet brought down a young lady in his
arms, half-naked and in a fainting state. So, seeing that she
was beautiful as an angel, we got possession of her, whipped
her into a coach, and brought her here — "

" But why did you bring her hither? " demanded the
marquis. " That is the point I want you to clear up."

" Oh, there's no gammon about me, my lord," exclaimed
Coffin. " The fact is, I've been in those secret chambers
of your lordship's, and have looked at all the pretty things
in the shape of statues and paintings — "

"Ah!" ejaculated the nobleman, the truth flashing to
his comprehension. " Then you are — "

" Dan'el Coffin, at your lordship's service," was the reply.
" If your lordship wants references," added the fellow, with
cool self-sufficiency, " I can give 'em either to Lady Ernes-
tina or the prince regent."

" Well, I know now who you are and all about you," said
the marquis, scarcely able to conceal the sensation of utter
loathing which he experienced as he gazed upon the public
executioner. " In plain terms, then, you fancied that in
consequence of having seen my private apartments, you
would not be doing wrong in bringing the young girl to
me?"

" That's just what it is, my lord," answered the Hang-
man.

" But do you know who she is? " inquired the marquis.
" What is her station in life? Is she the mistress of Sir
Douglas Huntingdon, a relative, or a servant? In fact, tell
me all about her."

" She's not a servant, but looks like a very genteel young
person, almost a lady, I should say. But one thing is very

ANOTHER LAMB IN THE LION'S DEN 427

certain, she's not the baronet's mistress; for I happen to
know that she hasn't even known him many hours."

" But a few minutes are enough to ruin a woman's virtue,
let alone a few hours," said the marquis. " However, that
is of little consequence, since the girl is really beautiful.
And now after all you have said, do you mean me to under-
stand that you are not well acquainted with her? Of course
you are! What is her name? "

" I can't tell your lordship — I know no more than
Adam," was the reply. " The fact is, in a few words, me and
my pals were at Shooter's Hill on a little business the night
before last, and Sir Douglas Huntingdon, who was travelling
that way, fell into our hands. Within the same hour, an-
other accident also threw this young lady in our way; and,
to be brief, they both succeeded in effecting their escape
and getting off together. So it was natural that the baronet
should give the young girl an asylum, and that's the way she
came to be at his house. But hasn't your lordship seen her
yet? "

" Not yet. I am, however, told that she is really very
beautiful," observed the marquis.

" Beautiful," cried the Hangman, with a diabolical leer,
" she's so sweetly pretty that if I hadn't thought your lord-
ship would give a good price for her, I should have kept her
for myself. I don't know much of these matters, but I must
say that you need only look in her face to see that she's
innocence itself."

" Well, and so now you are come for your reward? " said
the marquis. " What do you expect? "

" Fifty guineas won't hurt your lordship," answered the
Hangman.

" There, take that," said the marquis, throwing down his
purse, which he knew contained more than the sum de-
manded.

Daniel Coffin picked up the purse from the table where
the nobleman had tossed it, and then took his departure,
well pleased with the success of his visit.

CHAPTER XXXVII

A CATASTROPHE

THE chamber to which Ariadne Varien had been consigned
at Leveson House was the one that communicated with the
dressing-room whence a secret door opened into the private
suite of apartments already so often referred to in our narra-
tive. This bedchamber was sometimes occupied by the
marquis himself; but he as frequently slept in a room
on a higher story, for the sake of the convenience offered
by contiguous baths. Thus, on the particular occasion now
referred to, the nobleman had spent the night in this last-
mentioned chamber; and therefore was it that the house-
keeper, with fiendish forethought, consigned Ariadne to
the one whence the communication led to the private suite
of apartments.

On awaking after some hours of refreshing sleep, Ariadne
recalled to mind everything that had occurred during the
past night; but still it was without the slightest misgiving
or suspicion she remembered that she was now beneath the
roof of the Marquis of Leveson.

While she was thus collecting her ideas, the housekeeper
entered the room, bearing a tray, containing the young
maiden's breakfast.

"Is it very late? " inquired Ariadne, fancying that she
must have slept a long time.

" It is a little past ten o'clock," replied the housekeeper;
" but you will do well to take your breakfast in bed as you
have passed through so much excitement and alarm during
the past night. Moreover, you have no apparel of any kind
here, and I must see about getting some clothes presently.
His lordship will come and pay you a visit immediately,
and will then confer with you on your plans and prospects."

428

A CATASTROPHE 429

" What, here! " ejaculated Ariadne, surprised at the re-
mark and conceiving that she had not properly understood
it.

" And why not? " asked the housekeeper, with a smile.
" The marquis is old enough to be your father; indeed
you are a mere child to him. Moreover, I am going to remain
here with you, my love."

Still Ariadne experienced a secret displeasure at the idea
of a stranger visiting her bedroom. Her pure-mindedness
and natural delicacy shrank from the thought; but she
scarcely dared to venture any further remonstrance, as she
felt that she was under great obligations to those who had
given her an asylum beneath that roof. Besides which, as
she had no garments to put on, — not a stitch nor rag in the
whole world beyond the night-drapery that she wore, —
she could not rise and dress herself to receive the marquis,
and it was natural that he should wish to know whom he had
beneath his roof. But this reflection suddenly gave rise to
another: namely, what account could she render of herself?
What name should she pass by? To refuse all replies to the
questions that might be put would seem not only suspicious,
but rude to a degree; and yet, on the other hand, how could
she tell the truth? How announce the name of Ariadne
Varian? Ah! the poor girl was indeed unused to the arts
of deceit and unskilled in the ways of duplicity.

She was sitting up in bed, pondering mournfully upon these
points, and partaking of some chocolate which the house-
keeper had poured out for her, when a gentle knock was
heard at the door. The housekeeper at once opened it,
and the marquis entered the room. Ariadne instinctively
shrank beneath the bedclothes, while her cheeks were suf-
fused with blushes.

" How is the fair guest with whose presence circumstances
have thus honoured me? " said the marquis, assuming his
softest voice and blandest manner. " Really, the incidents
which have thus brought you, young lady, within these walls
are so romantic that they invest you with additional charms."

Ariadne said nothing. She was overwhelmed with con-
fusion. But averting her blushing countenance, she felt
such strange sensations come over her — sensations of
mingled alarm, outraged modesty, and bitter annoyance —
that she was ready to burst into tears.

430 THE COURT OF LONDON

" You are welcome to my house, young lady," resumed
the marquis, " most welcome. Indeed the longer you grace
it with your presence, the happier I shall feel. My excellent
housekeeper here will see that your slightest wants shall
not merely be attended to, but even anticipated — "

" I thank your lordship/' murmured Ariadne, now recov-
ering the power of utterance, " but I shall not intrude on
your lordship's hospitality much longer. Indeed, if your
lordship's housekeeper will only be kind enough to furnish
me with apparel, I shall at once prepare to take my de-
parture," she added, her sense of violated decency now
triumphing over her fears and imparting firmness to her
tone.

" Well, well, my dear young lady, you are your own
mistress, no doubt," said the marquis, believing Ariadne's
conduct to be nothing more nor less than mere affectation;
for he could not fancy that it was possible for her to have
passed even a few short hours in the dwelling of Sir Douglas
Huntingdon and have come forth pure and chaste. " But
methinks that this precipitation on your part to leave my
mansion, where there is every disposition to treat you
kindly — "

" My lord," interrupted Ariadne, now turning her eyes
toward the marquis while her countenance was flushed with
indignation, " I know not what may be the manners and
customs of fashionable life, but in the sphere to which I
belong, your presence in my chamber would not only be
deemed a violation of all the rules of hospitality, but a
positive outrage and insult."

" Upon my honour, you take my conduct most unkindly,"
exclaimed the marquis. " But I will withdraw for the
present, since you appear to wish it."

He then quitted the room, making a rapid sign to the
housekeeper; and the moment the door closed behind him,
Ariadne burst into a flood of tears.

" My dear girl, don't take on like this," said the house-
keeper. " Why, I am really surprised at you. His lordship
did not mean any offence, how could he? He perhaps spoke
in rather an offhand manner; but then that was his famil-
iarity of tone toward one in whom he felt interested. I can
assure you that the marquis is generosity and liberality
personified. If you asked him for any boon on which you

A CATASTROPHE 431

set your mind, you would have it. And young ladies have
their little whims and caprices, you know —

" Good heavens! what means this strange language? "
cried Ariadne, all the suspicions and misgivings which within
the last few minutes had been aroused in her mind now
becoming excited to a painful degree. " If you really wish
to befriend me — "

" What can I do, young lady? Speak! "

" Procure me some apparel. I cannot offer to recom-
pense you at this moment, but in the course of the day,
when once I shall have seen Sir Douglas Hunting-
don — "

" Ah! " ejaculated the housekeeper, now perfectly con-
vinced in her own mind that Ariadne was the baronet's
mistress. " But wherefore should you be in such haste
to quit this mansion? Do you desire to return to that
Sir Douglas Huntingdon of whom you have spoken? "

" I do — he is my only friend," exclaimed Ariadne, with
passionate vehemence, and not reflecting for a moment
what interpretation might be put upon the manner in which
she spoke of the baronet. " But will you, will you, my
good woman, procure me some fitting apparel? Surely
Lady Ernestina Dysart would take compassion upon me,
or one of the female servants might lend me a gown, a shawl,
a bonnet, in fine, the barest necessaries — "

" To be sure, my dear girl," said the housekeeper. " I
will procure all you want in good time."

" At once! " cried Ariadne, springing from the couch.
" Procure me some raiment, I will dress myself with all
possible haste, and will then intrude no longer — "

" Ah! you are wrong to speak of intrusion," interrupted
the housekeeper. " But come into this dressing-room.
Here are all the requisites of the toilet, and I will soon pro-
cure you fitting apparel."

" Oh, then I shall thank you indeed! " exclaimed Ariadne,
somewhat tranquillized by this assurance.

But while she was combing out her beautiful long flaxen
hair in the dressing-room adjoining the bedchamber, the
housekeeper took advantage of a moment when the maiden's
back was turned to touch the secret spring and open the
door leading into the suite of private apartments.

" I asked you just now whether you really wished to return

432 THE COURT OF LONDON

to Sir Douglas Huntingdon," resumed the wily woman,
" and you declared that such was your desire."

" He is my benefactor, I have already told you as much,"
said Ariadne. " I am under obligations to him — deep
obligations," she repeated, with a profound sigh, as she
thought of her brother to whom the baronet had despatched
his valet James with reassuring messages and with
money.

" You are wrong, young lady, you are wrong," continued
the housekeeper, " to think of returning to Sir Douglas
Huntingdon, when you may be so much happier at the house
of the Marquis of Leveson. Behold, my dear girl, behold
this splendidly furnished apartment into which the dressing-
room opens," she exclaimed, drawing back the secret door.
" All these rooms that you see shall be yours, with domestics
to wait upon you, if you will only consent to remain here.
Ah! my dear young lady, I am sure I shall not supplicate
in vain."

The amazement produced by these words overwhelmed
as it were the alarm previously excited, and Ariadne, de-
sisting for a moment from the operation of combing out her
hair, turned upon the woman a look so full of wonder and
startled inquiry that it even expressed her feelings more
eloquently than the words to which she simultaneously gave
utterance.

" Wherefore should you invite me thus to remain within
these walls? Wherefore should you offer me the induce-
ment of these elegant rooms? Indeed, what know you of
me, that such a proposal should have emanated from your
lips? "

" Ah! young lady," said the housekeeper, adopting a
tone of gentle persuasion, " did you not observe that the
marquis surveyed you with admiration? And surely, surely
you will not be so cruel as to treat him with indifference or
scorn? "

" Good heavens! what words are these that I hear? "
exclaimed Ariadne, the colour coming and going in rapid
transitions upon her cheeks. " It is impossible that this
can be the house of the Marquis of Leveson! Impossible
that any nobleman would have intruded into the chamber
which his hospitality had afforded to a young and friendless
girl! Impossible that any female in his service would dare

A CATASTROPHE 433

to address me in the language which has just fallen from
your lips! "

" Now, if it comes to the matter of that," exclaimed the
housekeeper, suddenly throwing off the mask and speaking
in a tone of coarse insolence, " I don't see why you should
pretend to be so very particular. Come, come, young woman,
here's enough of this nonsense, and I have already adopted
the coaxing tone too long. I suppose you meant to sell your-
self to Sir Douglas Huntingdon, even if you have not done
it already. But let me tell you that the Marquis of Leveson
will prove more profitable to you. I saw just now by his
lordship's words that he does not regard you as the stub-
bornest of prudes, or yet as a dragon of virtue; and I know
his humour well enough to feel assured that he won't waste
much time in coming to the point with you. Indeed he has
only retired for a few minutes, just to give me the opportunity
of being explicit with you."

A mortal paleness gradually spread itself over Ariadne's
countenance, as these words smote upon her ears, carrying
as it were the blight of a pestilence down into her very soul;
and, staggering toward a seat, she sank upon it crushed and
overwhelmed by a terrible consternation. A faintness seized
upon her, a film spread rapidly over her eyes, and she felt
that her senses were abandoning her, when the sudden sound
of a door opening and shutting recalled her to herself.
Startled back as it were into complete consciousness, she
threw her affrighted looks around, and perceived that she
was now alone. The housekeeper had left her, and it was
the sound of the outer door of the bedchamber that she had
heard opening and closing so abruptly. But that door
almost immediately opened again, and now it was the Mar-
quis of Leveson who reappeared.

A scream of terror burst from the lips of Ariadne; and
not only did alarm, but also a feeling of outraged modesty
prompt her to fly from his presence, for be it understood
that she was in a state of semi-nudity, having on nothing
but the night-gear which left her neck and bosom all exposed.
As she turned thus abruptly away from the approaching
marquis, she beheld the door which the housekeeper had left
open when she displayed the handsomely furnished apart-
ment to which it led.

" Beautiful girl," exclaimed the marquis, catching sight

434 THE COURT OF LONDON

of her naked charms and instantaneously inflamed by the
view. " Resistance is vain! besides, wherefore prove so
coy — so cruel — "

But Ariadne had rushed forward into the apartment to
which the secret door opened, and as she shut it promptly
behind her, she turned around in eager search for the lock,
that she might secure herself against the marquis. But
what was her surprise when she beheld nothing but the
uniform and unbroken surface of the handsomely papered
wall, no lock, no handle, not even so much as a keyhole, to
indicate the presence of a door. The thought flashed to her
mind that she had fallen into some new snare, and, over-
come with a sense of terror now wrought up to an excruciat-
ing pitch, she sank down into one of the splendid armchairs
with which the apartment was furnished. But at the same
instant did another rending scream burst from her lips, as
the sharp click of the perfidious mechanism fell upon her
ears, and as her arms and shoulders were clasped by the
springs that started forth from the chair!

At the same time the invisible door by which she had
entered that room was opened, and the Marquis of Leveson
made his appearance. Instantaneously shutting the door
behind him, he stood feasting his eyes upon the charms of
his intended victim. But, oh, his hard heart melted not
with pity as that sweet countenance was upturned with
an expression so earnestly imploring, so pathetically en-
treating toward his own; no pity nor remorse had he for
that damsel's sake; all his ideas, all his aspirations were
concentrated in the burning heat of one absorbing passion.

" My lord, my lord/' murmured Ariadne, " have mercy
upon me."

But as the maiden uttered these words in a dying tone,
her head drooped forward, the gaspings of her breath ceased,
and the palpitations of her snowy bosom were no longer
perceptible.

" She has fainted," said the marquis to himself. " But
she is not the first who — '

The nobleman's reflection was suddenly cut short by a
mortal alarm which seized upon him, for as he stooped down
and looked at Ariadne, it suddenly struck him that she was
dead.

He hastily placed his hand upon her heart; but it beat

A CATASTROPHE 435

not, and the bosom which his hand thus pressed in its nudity
was as still as if death were indeed there. With a cold
shudder running through his entire form, he touched the
secret spring which released her from the grasp of the
mechanism, and lifting her in his arms he bore her back
into the bedchamber and laid her upon the couch. Still
did she continue senseless; and if that were not the sleep
of death, then assuredly was it a swoon of a most alarming
character.

Vainly did the marquis sprinkle her countenance with
water and apply a scent-bottle to her nostrils. She moved
not, her heart was still, her pulse imperceptible, and all vital
colouring was disappearing from her lips. Her nails —
those beautifully shaped nails, so pellucid with their roseate
tint a few moments before — now were becoming of a bluish
appearance, and this circumstance gave a still deeper shock
to the soul of the marquis, for he regarded it as the unmis-
takable sign of death.

He rang the bell, and the housekeeper answered the sum-
mons. Nothing could equal the woman's dismay on be-
holding Ariadne thus stretched lifeless on the couch; and
the marquis saw by the sudden horror which seized upon
her what she also thought, — his worst fears being then
confirmed, that the maiden was indeed dead.

Almost wild with alarm, he bade the housekeeper hasten
and fetch Lady Ernestina thither; and in a minute or two
the woman returned accompanied by his lordship's niece.
But Ernestina at once declared that all human aid was
unavailing, and that the damsel was no more.

Nothing could exceed the excruciation of alarm which now
reigned in that chamber. What was to be done? How dis-
pose of the corpse? How account for the presence of the
young female in the house at all? The marquis paced to
and fro in the chamber like a madman. The housekeeper
fell upon her knees by the side of the bed, and began giving
way to the bitterest lamentations, while Lady Ernestina,
conquering her emotions somewhat in the presence of the
awful dilemma, stood gazing upon the beautiful face of the
dead, revolving in her mind a thousand different schemes
for the disposal of the corpse.

" Good heavens! what a calamity, what an awful calam-
ity! " exclaimed the marquis, wringing his hands at one

436 THE COURT OF LONDON

moment, and then gesticulating with them frantically the
next.

" Oh, it is enough to hang us all," groaned the housekeeper.
" What on earth will become of us? "

" Calm yourselves, calm yourselves, I beseech you,"
said Ernestina. " It is only by extreme prudence, circum-
spection, and caution that we shall avoid discovery, that
is to say, if the occurrence must be concealed. But why
not let it be avowed? The girl was not murdered, at least
not murdered in the positive meaning of the term — "

" But there must be a coroner's inquest, and all the annoy-
ances and dangers of an inquiry," said the marquis. " How
am I to account for the girl being here? Under what circum-
stances am I to say she died? If recognized and identified
as the one who was rescued last night from the fire at Hunt-
ingdon's house, how came she here? Wherefore was she
brought to such a distance, instead of being taken to some
dwelling close at hand? Ah! the case is fraught with terrible
suspicion, Ernestina, you must see that it is."

" Oh, yes," said the housekeeper, with bitter lamentations.
" It must be hushed up — it must be hushed up."

" Then do you know what is to be done? " said Ernestina,
a sudden idea striking her. " You must send for Sir Douglas
Huntingdon, tell him all that has happened, and throw
yourself upon his mercy. There is nothing else to be done."

" But if this girl was his mistress," exclaimed the marquis,
" he might seek a cruel revenge. And yet it is hardly possible
that he can care anything for her, seeing that their acquaint-
ance has only been of a few hours — Yes, yes," he ex-
claimed, suddenly interrupting himself, " your advice must
be adopted, Ernestina. Huntingdon would not ruin an old
friend."

" Besides," observed the nobleman's niece, " you will
ascertain who the young girl was, and whether there will
be much inquiry made by relatives or by friends into the
circumstances of her death."

" Be it then as you say," observed the marquis. " And
now, Ernestina, for God's sake take this distracted woman
away with you, and endeavour to console her — or at all
events to make her hold her peace — while I send for Sir
Douglas Huntingdon."

Lady Ernestina accordingly persuaded the housekeeper

A CATASTROPHE 437

to accompany her away from the chamber of death, and the
marquis, quitting the room also, and locking the door behind
him, hastened to make a confidant of his valet Brockman,
whom he despatched forthwith in search of the baronet.
In about half an hour Brockman returned accompanied
by Sir Douglas, whom he had found at a hotel in the imme-
diate neighbourhood of his own ruined mansion; and as the
valet had not given the baronet the least intimation of
wherefore his presence was required in Albemarle Street,
he was naturally much surprised at being thus peremptorily
summoned thither. At first, indeed, he had refused to yield
to Brockman' s request, fancying that some treacherous or
spiteful trick might be meditated against him in revenge
for the part he had played in rescuing Louisa Stanley from
the power of the Marquis of Leveson. But perceiving, by
Brockman's manner, that the affair was urgent, although
the valet declined entering into explanatory particulars,
Sir Douglas ultimately agreed to accompany him to Leveson
House.

On arriving there, the baronet was at once conducted
into an apartment where he found the marquis alone, but
pacing to and fro in a state of dreadful excitement and
agitation.

" Good heavens, Leveson," he exclaimed, " what is the
matter? "

" Tell me, Huntingdon, tell me, before I speak a word to
the point," said the Marquis of Leveson, advancing hur-
riedly, and seizing the baronet by the hand, " tell me whether
there is any ill feeling on your part toward me? "

" Not a whit," cried Sir Douglas; " on the contrary, I
was fearful that you would break off your friendship with
me on account of my intrusion upon your proceedings at
so critical a moment the day before yesterday. But, my
dear Leveson, as you called at Stratton Street and saw Miss
Bathurst on that morning, you are of course acquainted with
the entire mystery relative — "

"Ah! my dear Huntingdon, all the Miss Bathurst s, and
Clara Stanleys, and Venetias in the world are at this moment
nothing to me," interrupted the marquis; " for you see
before you one of the most miserable of men — "

" Indeed! I do observe that you are pale and agitated —
very pale," cried the baronet. " But what is the matter?

438 THE COURT OF LONDON

Is there anything I can do for you? Though having troubles
enough of my own at this moment, what with the burning
down of my house, the loss of a young lady in whom I had
suddenly conceived the deepest interest — "

" Oh! now, now I am more wretched than ever," ex-
claimed the marquis. " Huntingdon, my honour, almost
my life, is in your hands — "

" Good heavens! what mean you? " cried the baronet,
nearly as much stunned as he was bewildered.

" Will you swear to screen me, swear to hold me harmless,
swear not to betray me — "

" Yes, yes, I will swear anything, if you only relieve me
from this torturing suspense."

" Know, then, that the young lady whom you have lost — "

" Good God! has she fallen into your hands? "

" Yes, but I knew not — "

" Where is she? Where is she? " exclaimed Sir Douglas
Huntingdon, seizing the marquis by the collar of his coat.
" Oh, if you have dared to harm a hair of her head — "

" Heavens! how shall I tell you the dreadful truth! "
almost yelled forth the wretched marquis as he writhed
in the grasp of the baronet.

" Villain, you have ravished her," thundered Sir Douglas,
hurling the marquis from him with terrific violence. Then,
dashing his open palms forcibly against his brow in all the
wild fury of excitement, he exclaimed, " Would to God that
you had reported her death to me rather than this! "

" Her death, her death," repeated the marquis, leaning
upon the chair against which the baronet had flung him.
" Yes, it is her death that I have to report, for she is a spot-
less virgin so far as I am concerned."

The baronet staggered back a few paces, and then reeled
as if seized with a sudden vertigo ; for despite the confusion
into which his ideas were suddenly thrown, still was there
a strong lurid beam penetrating them with a horrible clear-
ness, bringing forth in dread relief the fact that the young
girl was no more.

" Dead," he at length muttered between his teeth, " dead,
do you say? " he repeated, in a low, thick voice, as with a pale
countenance and with wildness in his eyes he gazed upon
the marquis.

" Yes, she is dead," answered Leveson, " and if all my

A CATASTROPHE 439

fortune could bring her back to life, it should be surrendered
up."

" Tell me how this happened/' said the baronet, pressing
his hands to his brow as if to steady his reeling brain. Then,
sitting down, he appeared to await the explanations with the
vacancy of look and the abstracted manner of one whose
senses are in a whirl.

" I will tell you all — everything," said the marquis, in
a hurried tone of breathless agitation, " and then must I
throw myself upon your mercy. In the middle of the night
some men brought that girl hither, I knew not who she was,
I never saw her before, I had not bargained with them for the
service which they thus thrust upon me. The men told some
tale about you and the young girl having been together at
a hut on Shooter's Hill."

" Ah! then I understand who the villains were," exclaimed
the baronet, indignation once more bringing back the colour
to his cheeks. " But go on — go on."

" They brought the girl here, then, after the fire at your
house," resumed the marquis, " and she was received into
the mansion. Believing her, in plain truth, to have been
your mistress, I fancied that her coyness was assumed, and
perhaps I was too hasty — too importunate. At all events
she sought refuge in that very room which contains the chairs,
— you know what chairs I mean, — and sinking into one,
the fright I presume was too much for her — and — and
she died."

" Poor Ariadne! " murmured the baronet to himself, and,
averting his head, he dashed away a tear.

" On my life," continued the marquis, " I have told you
the truth, Huntingdon. I have explained the events pre-
cisely as they took place, and I need scarcely say that every
possible remedy and restorative was applied — "

''Enough, enough!" ejaculated Sir Douglas, suddenly.
" Let me see her."

This command, uttered with a stern and abrupt imperious-
ness, was at once obeyed by the Marquis of Leveson, and he
conducted the baronet to the room where Ariadne lay.
On the threshold of the chamber, Sir Douglas turned suddenly
around and motioned the marquis not to follow him; then,
closing the door abruptly, he remained alone in the chamber
with the dead.

440 THE COURT OF LONDON

Advancing slowly, hesitatingly, and with a sensation of
awe, to the side of the couch, Sir Douglas Huntingdon beheld
all that remained of Ariadne Varian, stretched like a beauti-
ful statue before his eyes. Her light hair, swept entirely
away from her brows, fell back over the pillow upon which
her head rested, thus revealing the whole of that sweet
countenance, with the delicately chiselled and faultless
features on which a smile of angelic resignation appeared
to rest, as if in the very moment of dissolution she had experi-
enced the certainty that she was about to pass from the woes
of earth to the joys of heaven. Her eyelids were shut close,
with the brown lashes resting upon the alabaster cheeks,
so that she appeared as if she were only sleeping. The lips
had remained slightly apart, affording a glimpse of the pearls
within, and thus strengthening the impression that she was
not dead but only slept. The slight drapery which she wore
had settled in such a way as to develop the gentle undulations
and softly swelling contours of her sylphid form; the arms
remained gracefully rounded, like those of one in a slumber,
and not with the rigidity of the last sleep from which there
is no awakening upon earth; and the symmetrical beauty
of the lower limbs was likewise revealed by the plaits of her
virgin vesture. Alas! that this should be the raiment of the
dead.

Sir Douglas Huntingdon gazed upon her with a sort of
incredulity that she was really no more, and for nearly a
minute he thought she was only sleeping. He hoped so, and
he earnestly prayed within himself that such might be the
case. Yet the longer he looked down upon that alabaster
countenance, the fainter grew that hope; while the stronger
became the conviction that she was indeed no more.

" Yes, her spirit has fled for ever," he inwardly mused.
" The young, the innocent, the beautiful, has gone to that
heaven which is her fitting home. She looks as if she did but
sleep, and yet there is the absence of all vital colouring from
those cheeks, and the breath comes not from between those
lips. Her form is motionless, though not yet stricken with
the rigidity of death. Oh, Ariadne, I knew thee but for a few
hours, and yet in that short time — But this is childish
on my part," ejaculated the baronet aloud, as he made a
sudden effort to master his emotions. Then, feeling that
his eyes were dim and that tears were trickling down his

A CATASTROPHE 441

cheeks, he no longer sought to check the natural current
of his grief, and sitting down on the edge of the couch, he
took the hand — the small cold hand — of Ariadne in his
own; and averting his eyes from her marble countenance,
he said aloud, and with a passionate outburst of feeling, " I
cannot bear to look upon that inanimate countenance,
which was so lovely in its animation."

Then for upwards of a minute he remained in that position,
wrapped up in the deepest thought, until at length regaining
somewhat of his lost firmness, he rose abruptly, threw one
last lingering look upon the deceased, and then quitted the
room.

On the landing outside he found the marquis waiting for
him, and in silence did they proceed back to the apartment
where they had previously conversed.

" That young girl, Lord Leveson," said the baronet, in
a deep and solemn tone, " has a brother who will sooner or
later come to demand an account of his sister. Of me will
he demand that account, inasmuch as I had written to him
to state that she had found an asylum — an honourable
asylum — with me; and when he comes therefore to inquire
for her, what answer am I to give? "

" You will not compromise me? " said the marquis, in a
tone of earnest entreaty. " Can it not be averred that,
rendered houseless by the fire, the damsel was consigned to
the care of my housekeeper or niece, whichever you like to
name, but that she died of the fright produced by that con-
flagration? "

" Yes, this tale must indeed be told," said the baronet.
" And now let instructions be given for the funeral of the
poor girl."

" And what name is to be placed upon her coffin? " asked
Lord Leveson, inwardly rejoiced to find that no exposure
was to take place.

" What name? " repeated the baronet. " There is no
reason now why her real name should be concealed, there-
fore upon her coffin-lid have inscribed the words, Ariadne
Varian."

" What! " ejaculated the marquis, immediately struck
by the name, " surely this poor girl — "

" Yes, I know what is passing in your mind," said Hunting-
don, in a mournful tone. " She was the sister of him the

442 THE COURT OF LONDON

narrative of whose escape you have read in the news-
papers."

" But her brother," exclaimed the marquis, " is he not
a fugitive? And will he ever come to claim his sister? "

" If I can obtain for him a free pardon, for which I am
about to interest myself," returned the baronet. " But of
all this no matter; suffice it for you, Lord Leveson, to know
that I am interested in the young man's behalf. Would to
God that it were within the range of mortal power to recall
his sister to life! "

With these words Sir Douglas Huntingdon hurried away
in a state of mind such as he had never experienced before.

CHAPTER XXXVIII

SYNCOPE AND TETANUS

DIMLY and feebly did a sense of returning consciousness
steal into Ariadne's mind, slowly, slowly as the glimmering
of dawn struggles against the mists of night in the eastern
horizon. Whether she had fainted or slept she knew not; nor
indeed had she the power to reflect upon the point, for her
thoughts were all in confusion, not painfully agitating in the
brain, but in dull, numb, inert chaos. That there had been
a period of oblivion she had something like a distinct notion;
but whether it had lasted for days, hours, or only minutes, she
knew not, nor had she sufficient clearness of mind to con-
jecture.

But as the sense of consciousness came back, — as this
reawakening of the intellect began to take place, — she
became aware that there was somebody in the room. She
endeavoured to open her eyes, but could not. Nevertheless,
she felt that the light of day was upon those closed lids
and that it was not a stupendous darkness that weighed them
down. Amidst the dull and stagnant chaos of her thoughts,
flickered in upon her intellect a somewhat brighter beam
than the primal one of returning consciousness; and this
new ray of intelligence seemed to enlighten her the least
thing more distinctly as to her exact condition. She be-
came aware, indeed, that she was stretched upon a couch;
but after that vain attempt to open her eyes, she remained
for perhaps two or three whole minutes without any further
endeavour to move. Then hearing a voice suddenly speaking
near her, the tones flowing murmuringly upon her ears with-
out her being able to understand the words uttered, she
instinctively attempted to turn around toward the speaker.
But no! she was bound hand and foot by some invisible

443

444 THE COURT OF LONDON

and unknown spell, enchained by some stupendous and
indomitable influence, turned into a statue so far as her
physical being was concerned, and animated with only just
a sufficiency of the spiritual essence to give her a dim and
twilight idea of her own condition.

Still was her appreciation of this condition too indistinct,
too vague, and too obscure to produce any poignant feeling.
Sensation she had, it was true, but so lulled, so steeped in
a mystic lethargy, so dull, numb, and sluggish, that it had
not sufficient vitality for any keenness of reflection, whether
painful or otherwise.

Gradually the idea began to become straightened in Ari-
adne's mind relative to the presence of some one near her;
and at length it seemed as if an inspiration dawned in unto
her soul, whispering the name of Douglas Huntingdon.
Then she appeared to acquire a knowledge that there was
such a person as he in the world; but how or when she had
known him before, she had no distinct comprehension.
She heard him breathing syllables of sorrow near her, and
then she felt him take her hand in his own. A pulse seemed
to thrill through her entire frame at that contact, — yes,
thrill even pleasurably, as if it were the touch of life giving
back animation into one on whom death sat heavy and
cold; but yet that thrill was only faint and feeble, and it
imparted not complete vitality nor broke the spell that
entranced the maiden.

She felt her hand clasped in that of Huntingdon, and she
felt, too, by the touch that his hand burned with the fever-
heat of excitement, and that her own was as cold as ice.
She longed — oh, how she longed — to return the pressure
which she felt; for now a strange, vague, and ill-defined
perception of the real truth of her condition stole into her
mind, and made her feel a desire to make known the fact
that she was indeed alive. But not in the slightest, not in
the faintest, not in the remotest degree could she return that
pressure; not a muscle could she move, not a nerve quivered
in response to her will. The faintest breeze has more power
to shake the stateliest tree than her volition could exercise
over her own faculties of motion. Still as death, motionless
as a statue, she lay, with a gentle glimmering of the spark
of life that was just conscious of its own existence, but could
not make this existence known to another. And now there-

SYNCOPE AND TETANUS 445

fore arose in her mind the conviction that she breathed not
though she lived, and on the other hand, that she was not
dead, though animation was all but utterly suspended.

A still brighter clearness shed its influence upon her
mind, — that mind which thus, after having first awakened
as it were in the midst of a vast hall where a single lamp
burned dimly in the midst of the blackness, now felt as if
additional lamps were being lighted up one by one, so as to
set forth by these slow degrees some fresh features of the
place. She heard those words to which the baronet gave
utterance with so much feeling, " I cannot bear to look
upon that inanimate- countenance which was so lovely in its
animation." Yes, she heard, she understood these words.
She even perceived the impassioned vibration of tone which
characterized them, the amount of anguish which they ex-
pressed. And again did she experience a thrill of the pulse
through her entire frame, but a thrill that was felt not by
him who held her hand and who believed it was the hand
of the dead. Then this hand of hers was quitted by that
of the baronet. The contact had ceased, the fevered flesh
and the marble-cold flesh touched each other no more, and
instead of the thrill of the vibrating pulse, it was an ice chill
that struck to the very core of the maiden's heart.

But now she felt — intuitively, instinctively felt — that
Sir Douglas Huntingdon was gazing upon her. Her eyelids
were closed, as we have already said; but it was in looking
upward as it were from the mind itself — by the exertion,
so to speak, of an inner sense of vision — that she thus felt
that he was looking upon her. She could even understand
the look, she could comprehend its nature, lingering, longing,
sad, and mournful. But, O God! why did she not return it?
Just Heaven! why could she not?

She heard the door close, and now she knew that she was
alone. The silence suddenly struck her as being awful, awful
in the extreme; and then, too, at the same instant, a more
horrible clearness sprang up in her mind, a fearful light flam-
ing up in her soul. In a word, she understood all in a moment,
that she was in a species of trance, a syncope, and that she
was believed to be dead.

Dead! great Heaven, what awful thoughts now sprang
up in her imagination! Was the hand of death in reality
upon her? Was she dying? Would she soon be really dead?

446 THE COURT OF LONDON

Death! its bitterness was not past, its sting was there,
and the grave perhaps would soon assert its victory. But
to die — Oh, to die while she felt that she was so young,
— for her thoughts were now every instant becoming more
vividly clear and more keenly perceptive, — to die so
young, it was terrible, terrible! Then her brother, too, —
for she now remembered him and thought of him, yes, his
image suddenly sprang up clearly and tangibly as it were
before her, — this well-beloved brother, what would he
think, what would he say when he heard that she had died
thus prematurely, thus suddenly? But no, she could not
die, she must not die yet. Innocent, stainless of crime, ay,
even immaculate though she were in mind as well as in body,
she was not prepared to die. She would move her limbs,
she would turn around on that couch, she would raise herself
up, and she would exhibit all the powers of full, living,
breathing, moving vitality. Alas! vain, vain were the
thoughts, vain the aspirations, vain the endeavours; so
far from stirring hand or foot, she could not even move
a muscle of her countenance, nor unclose an eyelid, nor feel
her lips quiver with the breath of life.

We said that her mind had now a horrible clearness,
and such indeed it was. For her thoughts began to flow
in still more frightful and hideous channels, depicting all
the paraphernalia of death, — the laying out of the corpse
(in her case perhaps a seeming corpse), the putting on of
the raiment of the dead, the enclosing in the shell, the
screwing down of the lid of the coffin, the consignment to
the grave, and the shovelling in of the damp and wormy clay.
Heavens! as all these harrowing thoughts swept through
the brain of the poor young girl, she endured an agony of
agonies ineffable for human language, — an agony all the
more agonizing because endured by one whose form was
motionless and could not bend or yield as it were with recoil,
trembling, or shudder, to the dreadful influence of those
thoughts. And now, with the extremest poignancy was the
fact presented to her mind that she was not even nearly dead,
but that her state was one presenting that phenomenon
so strange, so awful, and so terrible in the history of human
nature.

The horror produced by all these thoughts gradually
merged into the more stupefying state of consternation,

SYNCOPE AND TETANUS 447

and then a dreamy repose stole over the young maiden.
Oblivion supervened, and thus for awhile were her senses
steeped in forgetfulness. How long this interval lasted,
she however knew not; and when she returned to conscious-
ness she became aware that her posture on the couch was
somewhat changed. She was now lying completely on her
back, and she felt that her arms were placed close by her
sides, and that her feet were likewise in close and parallel
contact. Next she perceived, by the sensation, that some-
thing was fastened under her chin; and as she began to
ponder upon the meaning of all this, the recollection of
what had passed just previously to the last interval of
oblivion slowly came back to her mind, until at length the
awful, the crushing, the appalling thought settled in her soul
that she was laid out as a corpse.

Horror of horrors! With full, poignant, and vivid keen-
ness, did all her consciousness return; and she once more
became possessed of every faculty of perception. There
was no doubt as to her actual position: she knew it, she
understood it, she felt it all. She was believed to be dead,
she was laid out in the usual manner ere being consigned
to the coffin, and the winding-sheet already wrapped her
form. The thought of all this was maddening, maddening.
Her brain appeared to be on fire, and the sensation of gnawing
flames had she also at the heart, though that heart beat not.
Her eyelids were closed, nor could she open them; never-
theless lightnings appeared to flash before her vision. It
was horrible, horrible, to experience all this, and yet not be
able so much as to relieve the harrowed feelings with a
shudder or a shriek. For when something dreadful meets
the eye or strikes upon the mind, it is a relief to shudder
in recoil or to send forth an ejaculation from the lips. But
here was the unhappy girl bound as it were in the adamantine
chains of utter petrification, a marble body with a soul of
fire, incapable of performing the least function of life, and
yet inspired with all life's keenest and acutest sensations.

All the faculties belonging to the mind seemed to have
concentrated in themselves the vitality which naturally
belonged to the body, and all the senses were sharpened to
even a painful degree. Thus she could hear sounds the
faintest and slightest imaginable, such as insects picking
in the wood of the bedstead with the noise of the death-

448 THE COURT OF LONDON

watch. She could smell the clean linen which wrapped her
as a winding-sheet, and which, perhaps from the nature
of the soap used in washing it, had a certain earthy odour
that made it indeed appear the raiment of the dead. She
could feel all the plaits and folds of these cerements as they
lay loose upon one portion of her form and tighter on another;
she could feel the linen passing around her head, and the
cambric that was tied as a bandage to hold up her chin.
Through her closed lids could her eyes perceive the light of
the sun streaming through the curtains of the window facing
the couch, — those beams which borrowed a deeper redness
from the hue of those curtains. Thus were her senses
acuminated to the keenest edge; and as the body was left
motionless, those faculties appeared to exercise themselves
with all the concentration of vitality which they had absorbed
as it were from the physical powers.

In the midst of her harrowing thoughts she heard the
door open, and the housekeeper's voice say in a low and
mournful tone, " Walk in, walk in, Mr. Stimson, walk in.'7

Then the door was closed again very gently, and two
persons advanced up to the side of the bed, the housekeeper
and the man whom she had called Mr. Stimson.

" What a sweet corpse the dear girl does make," said the
housekeeper, assuming a whimpering tone and heaving three
or four deep-drawn sighs. " Ah! Mr. Stimson, she wasn't
here many hours, but I really had taken quite a fancy to her.
She was so amiable and good, and I do believe that in the
same short time she grew quite as fond of me."

" Poor young lady! " returned Mr. Stimson, in a hollow
and lugubrious voice. " How come it all about, ma'am? "

" Why, you see, Mr. Stimson," resumed the housekeeper,
" this young lady was staying at Sir Douglas Huntingdon's,
and his house was burned down last night. Such rapid
progress did the fire make, that the dear girl well-nigh fell
a sacrifice to the flames; but a couple of noble-hearted
gentlemen — one an officer in the Guards, and the other
the son of a bishop — rescued her at the peril of their lives,
and the officer wrapped her up in his great military cloak.
Then she was put into a hackney-coach that was passing
at the time; and as Sir Douglas is very intimate here, he
thought the best thing he could do was to send her to be
taken care of by Lady Ernestina. The fright which the

SYNCOPE AND TETANUS 449

young lady received from the fire was no doubt dreadful;
but we thought she had quite recovered, and didn't dream
that she was in any possible danger. But about ten o'clock
this morning the poor dear creature seemed to be taken
so bad suddenly that we got quite alarmed, and before we
could even send for the doctor she was dead. Lord bless
you, Mr. Stimson, she went off just like a child going to
sleep in its mother's arms; and with her dear head, poor
young creature, pillowed on my bosom, she breathed her
last."

" Well, ma'am," said Mr. Stimson, " it's a wery great
saytisfaction for you to know that you did your best, while
death was doing his wust, and that she went off like that
there, with her head on your buzzim. She's as lovely a
corpse as ever I had the measuring of."

" Yes," whimpered the housekeeper, " hasn't she got a
sweet pretty face, and her flesh is just like wax. Poor thing!
the worms will soon make havoc upon it."

" Poor thing! " echoed Mr. Stimson, in his deep, sepulchral
voice, which he purposely made as hollow and lugubrious
as possible. " The wurns indeed will prey upon the poor
gal."

It can scarcely be necessary to inform the reader that
Ariadne's feelings were now drawn to such an extreme
tension, that it appeared as if her brain must burst and her
heart-strings snap. She had no difficulty in discovering,
from the preceding discourse, who Mr. Stimson was. He
was evidently the undertaker. But the vile hypocrisy of
that woman, the housekeeper, the false version she gave of
the circumstances of Ariadne's arrival at the mansion,
the assumed sympathy and commiseration with which she
sought to play her part in the presence of the undertaker, —
all this added to the poignancy and painfulness of the
scene. But then the discourse itself, to hear herself styled
a corpse, then the remark that her flesh was colourless as
wax, and lastly the observation — the frightful observa-
tion — relative to the worms soon preying upon her — Oh,
all this was the most exquisite refinement of ineffable
agonies!

But this crucifixion of the feelings was not yet passed
through. She felt the undertaker place his rule upon her
to measure her length for the coffin, and she heard him

450 THE COURT OF LONDON

mutter to himself, in a low undertone, the exact measure-
ment of feet and inches as he thus took it. Good God!
how within herself she battled. Oh, how she battled for
the power of sending forth one long, loud, thrilling shriek!
How she strove — Heaven alone can tell how she strove —
to force a vent for the transcending agony of her feelings!
But no; all her efforts were vain and useless. The spell —
the awful spell — was upon her; and still like a marble
woman was she animated with a soul of fire.

" And so you say, ma'am," observed Mr. Stimson, speak-
ing in a low voice that was well suitable for the chamber
of death, but yet with something more of a business tone
than hitherto, " and so, ma'am, it is to be a wery decent
funeral, not overexpensive, but respectable? "

" Just so," responded the housekeeper. " His lordship
has entrusted the whole management to me; and I think,
Mr. Stimson," she added, in a significant tone, " that you
and I can make everything comfortable between us? "

"Oh! to be sure," responded the undertaker. " Come,
ma'am, tell me candidly how high you dare go, and then I
can tell you 'how much profit you and me can sheer betwixt
us."

" Well, I don't think his lordship would mind sixty or
seventy guineas."

" Wery good," observed Mr. Stimson, with a low, hollow
chuckle which appeared to issue from a coffin or a vault,
" let's say seventy-five guineas, and then we can divide
thirty betwixt us. That will make fifteen for your sheer."

" Agreed," said the housekeeper, " but you must send
in a regular proper bill, because the marquis sometimes
takes it into his head to look over his accounts."

" Don't be afeard, ma'am. I will put down fifteen guineas
for a brick grave, and it sha'n't be no brick grave at all.
Then, how many do you think will attend the funeral? "

" I don't know who will attend it: the marquis, I sup-
pose, Sir Douglas Huntingdon, — just for appearance'
sake, — and that's all."

" Well, we can put down ten mourners," observed Stim-
son; " 'cause why, the bill must be made out to look respect-
able. Ten mourners, that will be a guinea each for hat-band
and gloves, and a guinea each for the use of mourning cloaks,
so there we have twenty guineas at once. Fifteen, as already

SYNCOPE AND TETANUS 451

said, for the brick grave, makes thirty-five. Coffin, fifteen,
makes fifty; shell, five guineas, and use of pall, five guineas,
there's sixty. Hearse and mourning coaches, ten guineas,
that's seventy; and ten of my chaps, half a guinea each,
there's five guineas, and that makes up the seventy-five/'

" Well, you really are one of the cleverest gentlemen I
ever met with," said the housekeeper, with a subdued laugh,
" But after all, fifteen guineas apiece is very little to get
out of this business."

" Well," observed Mr. Stimson, " I'll manage to add five
to your sheer. Let me see, I said fifteen guineas for the
coffin, of course I meant a first-rate oaken one; but I tell
you what I'll do, I'll give a common one, painted and grained
to look like oak, and that's the way I'll do it. The poor gal
there won't be none the wiser."

" Ah! you dear, clever fellow," chuckled the housekeeper
in a subdued tone. " A man of your talent, Mr. Stimson,
ought to have been Prime Minister, instead of an under-
taker."

" Well, ma'am, I think I have got a little talent," returned
Mr. Stimson, with a complacent manner; " but I am wery
well satisfied with my wocation, and don't know that I
should improve it particular by a change. But I think we
have done here all that is required now? "

" One word," said the housekeeper, " when shall the
funeral take place? "

" Suppose we say this day week? " suggested the under-
taker. " The corpse is a nice fresh 'un," he continued, laying
his great heavy rough hand upon Ariadne's cheek, " and
won't spile. Besides, it will look better to take plenty of
time for the funeral; 'cause why, we are 'to pretend to have
a brick grave and a oak coffin."

" Then let us say this day week," rejoined the house-
keeper, and she thereupon quitted the room, accompanied
by Mr. Stimson.

Ariadne was once more alone. Alone indeed; but, good
heavens! with what hideous, horrible, excruciating thoughts,
— thoughts that swept like fiery arrows through her brain,
conjuring up images from the charnel-house and the grave.
Like ghastly spectres treading to the solemn measure of
a dirge, did they pass in array before her mental vision.
Yes, for she was treated as one that was dead, laid out as

452 THE COURT OF LONDON

a corpse, and had just been an ear- wit ness to the arrange-
ments devised for her own funeral. She had felt the rule of
the undertaker taking her measure for a coffin, and she had
felt likewise his rough hand laid upon her cheek with the
cold brutal indifference of one who is accustomed to handle
the dead. And then that woman, who had affected so much
sympathy in her behalf, was now actually trafficking in
her supposed death, — trafficking for profit to be derived
from the funeral of her whose fate she pretended to deplore.
And then that cold-blooded, heartless, hypocritical scoun-
drel, — the undertaker himself, — he also was making a
market of the dead. He also was practising the slimy
ways of the money-grubber in respect to the supreme and
most solemn rites of mortality and of the Christian faith.

All these circumstances, all these reflections, combined
to aggravate, if possible, the horror which previously filled
Ariadne's soul; and she already felt as if she were in the
depths of the cold grave, with the clay filled up over the
coffin.

Again did the stupor of oblivion enwrap her mind; and
when she reawoke to consciousness utter darkness rested
upon her closed eyelids. The silence and the blackness of
night entombed her, — stupendous night, always fraught
with vague and dreamy fears even for those in fullest health,
but now marked by ten thousand terrors for her who was
alive in the secrecy of her own sensations, but dead to the
exercise of all faculties, dead also to the world without.

CHAPTER XXXIX

THE TEANCE CONTINUED

IMMEDIATELY upon quitting Leveson House, Sir Douglas
Huntingdon repaired to Carlton Palace and sought an
interview with Venetia. Lady Sackville at once received
the baronet in the breakfast-parlour where she was seated
at the time; and, pointing toward a newspaper which lay
upon the table, she said, " My dear friend, it was with the
sincerest sorrow that I read the half-dozen lines in that
journal which mention the fire at your house last night. It
is, however, a subject of congratulation that you are safe.
But you look dreadfully careworn and haggard — "

" No wonder, Venetia," observed the baronet, " after all
that I have gone through."

He then sat down and gave her an account of everything
that had transpired within the last two days. Commencing
his narrative from the moment when he parted with Louisa
Stanley at Dartford, he proceeded to describe the perilous
adventures of Shooter's Hill. He told Venetia how cir-
cumstances had thrown Ariadne in his way, how she had
saved his life at the hut, how they had fled together, and
how he had given her an asylum at his own house; he
then explained who she was, and in confidence revealed to
Lady Sackville' s ear those particulars relative to Theodore
and his sister which have been made known to the reader
in a previous chapter. Lastly, he narrated the circum-
stances of the young girl's abduction to the Marquis of
Leveson's house, and concluded with a description of her
death.

At first, when he began to speak of Ariadne, Sir Douglas
observed that Venetia's beauteous eyes glittered somewhat
with a jealous uneasiness; and naturally flattered by this

453

454 THE COURT OF LONDON

proof that he was very far from being an object of indifference
to the lovely idol of fashion, he cautiously at stained from
uttering a word calculated to show that Ariadne had made
the slightest impression of a tender character upon his
heart. He spoke of her in a tone of compassionate friendship,
and speedily observed that a gleam of satisfaction stole over
the features of Lady Sackville. But when he came to that
portion of his narrative which described Ariadne's death, —
or, rather, her supposed death, — when indeed he explained
how the sensual brutality of the Marquis of Leveson had
been the cause of the lamentable catastrophe, Venetia's
splendid countenance coloured with indignation, and she
murmured between her set teeth, " That destestable Mar-
quis of Leveson! Will the day of retribution never dawn
for him? "

" And now, my dear Venetia," resumed the baronet,
" I will explain to you in a few words the object of my
visit. Indeed you must grant me a boon this moment,
you must do me a service without delay — "

" You know, my dear Douglas," she responded, with a
peculiar look of mingled tenderness and significancy, " that
there is nothing you can demand of me which I am not
prepared to grant. Tell me, therefore, how I can serve you.
But I think I can already conjecture: is it not the pardon
of Theodore Varian that you require? "

" It is, dearest Venetia, it is," replied the baronet.

Lady Sackville spoke not another word, but rising from
her seat, quitted the room. She remained absent for about
an hour, at the expiration of which interval she returned;
and by the smile of satisfaction that played upon her charm-
ing lips, Sir Douglas saw that she had succeeded.

" This is the pardon — the full, free, unconditional par-
don of Theodore Varian," she observed, handing the baronet
a paper. " Fortunately the Secretary of State was with
his Royal Highness at the moment, and therefore the
document is duly countersigned. I explained to them both
a sufficiency of the particulars connected with the case of
Theodore Varian to prove that he was as much sinned against
by his late master Emmerson, as sinning; and I likewise
told them in confidence a little of his poor sister's history.
The Minister therefore made not the slightest objection to
grant the pardon; and as for his Royal Highness," added

THE TRANCE CONTINUED 455

Venetia, proudly, " of course he was instantaneously pre-
pared to grant my demand."

" Ten thousand thanks, dear Venetia, for this prompt
kindness on your part," exclaimed Sir Douglas Huntingdon,
glancing his eye over the paper ere he consigned it to his
pocket. " And now you will excuse me for leaving you
abruptly, inasmuch as I am anxious to transmit this pardon
to Theodore Varian, together with the letter containing the
sad intelligence of his sister's death."

" And do you propose," asked Venetia, " to veil from
Mr. Varian the infamy of the Marquis of Leveson toward
his sister? "

" Of what avail, Venetia, will it be to augment the
sorrows of this already too unfortunate young man? Besides,
I myself have not been immaculate enough in my life to
feel justified in becoming the accuser of others; but on the
other hand I have so many faults of my own to screen that
I consider it but just to throw a veil if possible over the
faults of my friends or acquaintances."

" Well, be it so, Douglas," observed Venetia. " And now
depart to execute your purpose with regard to Varian; I
will not detain you a minute longer. But remember,"
she added, with a meaning look, " I shall always be delighted
and happy to see you."

" Ah! Venetia, do not fancy that I am not likewise too
happy to find myself in your society." Then, hastily rais-
ing her hand to his lips, he hurried from the room.

Returning to the hotel where he had taken up his quarters,
he sat down and penned a letter to Theodore Varian. In
this epistle he broke to the young brother as gently as he
could the intelligence of the sister's death, which he attrib-
uted to the shock produced by the conflagration upon the
previously attenuated mind of the young girl. This letter,
accompanied by the pardon, Sir Douglas Huntingdon at
once sent off by a courier to Dover, in the hope that the
messenger might overtake Varian previous to his embarka-
tion for France; but if not, the courier was instructed to
lose no time in following the young man to the Continent.
Having adopted these measures, Sir Douglas Huntingdon
turned his attention to his own affairs; for he felt for the
first time in his life the necessity of expelling thought by
means of bustle and occupation. Indeed, the image of

456 THE COURT OF LONDON

Ariadne was uppermost in his mind; and frequently,
frequently did he find himself giving way to the gloomiest
reflections, and pondering upon her whom he had known
but for so short a time and who had been so rudely and
suddenly snatched away from him, as he thought, for ever.

In the evening Doctor Copperas called at the hotel, and
on being shown to the room where the baronet was sitting
alone after dinner, the physician expressed himself much
shocked at the tidings he had received relative to the death
of his fair patient.

" One or two circumstances have rather astonished me
in this matter," observed the doctor, as he sat down to
take a glass of wine with the baronet: " one is that the
poor girl should have been sent to find an asylum at the
house of the Marquis of Leveson, who is an unmarried man,
or rather a widower; and the second is that I, being the
medical attendant of the young lady, was not called in this
morning when she was found to be dying. At all events,
if his lordship had not chosen to send for me, he would at
all events have acted prudently in summoning that truly
wonderful man, — the greatest ornament of his profession, —
I mean Doctor Thurston."

" My good friend," returned the baronet, " your two
objections are very easily met. In the first place, it was
necessary to consign the young girl to the care of some
kind-hearted lady; and being acquainted with Lady Ernes-
tina Dysart, I thought it best to send the poor creature to
her. Secondly, the Marquis of Leveson was unaware that
you were the medical attendant — "

" Enough, enough! " ejaculated Doctor Copperas; " I
am perfectly satisfied with what you have said, my dear
Sir Douglas. But perhaps you will permit me to observe
that in these cases of rapid sinking and speedy dissolution
arising from fright, there are so many curious phases and
phenomena that they never ought to be lost sight of by
the medical man in attendance at the time. Now I feel
perfectly convinced that if that very remarkable authority,
Doctor Thurston, had been called in on this occasion, he
would have given to the world a most valuable treatise
upon the subject."

Sir Douglas Huntingdon was in no humour to converse
with so tedious a personage as Doctor Copperas. He accord-

THE TRANCE CONTINUED 457

ingly fell into a deep abstraction, and the physician, having
dilated for about twenty minutes upon the merits of Doctor
Thurston as a medical practitioner, and the learning of
Doctor Thurston as a medical authority, took his leave.

A couple of days passed, and the baronet's confidential
domestic James returned from Dover. He had succeeded
in finding Theodore Varian, and had delivered to him the
messages and the purse of money sent by the baronet, whose
advice it appeared the young man had promptly followed
by repairing to Calais. Indeed, James had seen him embark
on board the hoy; and thus was it clear that he had quitted
England ere being overtaken by the messenger who bore
his pardon.

The next day Sir Douglas Huntingdon proceeded to
Leveson House to inquire how the preparations proceeded
for Ariadne's funeral. The marquis was not at home at
the time, and Lady Ernestina Dysart, who detested the
baronet ever since his interference in the affair of Louisa
Stanley, affected to be retained in her own room by indis-
position. The housekeeper accordingly took upon herself
to answer the baronet's queries, and she assured him that
the most satisfactory preparations were being made. Sir
Douglas Huntingdon desired the woman to conduct him
to the chamber where Ariadne lay; for he experienced an
irresistible longing to behold once more in death that sweet
countenance which had made so deep an impression upon
him in life. The housekeeper accordingly proceeded to
what was believed to be the chamber of death; and the
moment the baronet crossed the threshold a feeling of
indescribable awe mingled with the profound mournfulness
which already filled his heart.

But when he beheld that waxlike countenance on which
there was nothing of the ghastliness or loathsomeness of
death, when he beheld it fresh and damask-like as it was in
life, — the only appearance of death being the utter absence
of all vital tint, — he could not help exclaiming, " Good
heavens! surely she does but sleep."

The housekeeper shook her head with an assumed melan-
choly, as she observed in a low tone, " When no positive
disease or previous illness is the cause of death, the corpse
frequently remains thus fresh and well preserved."

"Death! Is this indeed death? Can it be death?"

458 THE COURT OF LONDON

mused the baronet, in a low tone to himself, as he stood
gazing down upon that countenance so soft in its very
rigidity, so sweet in its immovability, so full of ineffable
expression in its utter stillness. " If this be death, then
death is not terrible; no, 'tis nothing but a slumber a little
more profound than that into which we sink at night, only,
only, to this slumber here there is no awakening. This is
the eternal night that on earth hath no dawn."

While thus musing, in a low tone, Sir Douglas Huntingdon
had bent over the form of the young girl who lay stretched
upon that couch, and a tear dropped from his eyelash upon
her cheek. With his cambric handkerchief he gently wiped
it away, murmuring between his lips, " Poor Ariadne,
poor Ariadne! if you had lived, the feeling which you had
already inspired and which I experience now in my soul
would have expanded into the strongest and purest love,
and you should have been my wife."

Then, stooping down, he gently kissed her alabaster fore-
head, and, turning abruptly away, hurried from the room,
followed by the housekeeper.

If anybody a few days previously had told Sir Douglas
Huntingdon that within a week he was destined to be moved
by such feelings as these, destined to experience the influence
of such melting, chastening, and reforming thoughts trooping
through his mind, he would have ridiculed the prophecy
and laughed at the prophet. But no man can say how soon
the sentiment of love may animate his breast, nor how
quickly it may enthrone itself in the sanctuary of the
heart.

It was now the afternoon of the fourth day of Ariadne's
supposed death; and during this period a profound stupor
had entranced her thoughts at such frequent and for such
intervals that her soul, rent with a million tortures when
awake, was thus refreshed and invigorated as it were by
those periods when its agonies were numbed in syncope
and its thoughts steeped in oblivion. But to describe the
reflections and the terrors which she experienced when
awake would be to recapitulate that delineation of the
feelings which we have previously attempted. We may,
however, observe that occasionally did a gleam of hope
penetrate through the murky clouds that girt her soul, —
a hope that she might yet be enabled to shake off the tram-

THE TRANCE CONTINUED 459

mels of this tremendous spell which was upon her and
give evidence of her vitality before being consigned to the
coffin and buried alive.

She was awake, and she was giving way to this hope at
the moment when Sir Douglas Huntingdon paid that visit
which has just been alluded to. She immediately recognized
his voice as he stood speaking musingly by the side of the
couch ; and with that keenness of sense which has previously
been mentioned, she could hear as plainly all that he said
as if he were speaking in a much louder tone, whereas the
housekeeper who stood close by could not catch the meaning
of his words. And by a sort of mesmeric influence, also,
did Ariadne become aware that he was gazing down upon
her. Yes, and it seemed as if through her closed eyelids
she could even observe the nature of that look, so full of a
mournful tenderness; and then ineffable feelings sprang up
in her heart, and when she heard him murmur those words
avowing his love and deploring that she had not lived to
become his wife, the poor girl felt for a moment as if she
were being suddenly gifted with the power to cast off the
spell of the trance, fling her arms around his neck, weep
upon his breast, and prove that she was alive. That was
a moment, a single moment of beatific feeling for the unfor-
tunate Ariadne; but the darkest, deepest, blackest despair
suddenly seized upon her soul as she felt herself still tied
down to that couch, still enchained in motionless rigidity,
still cold and lifeless as marble in body, though with a mind
that was every instant flaming up with the accumulated
violence of a thousand volcanoes.

Then she felt the tear-drop upon her cheek. Heavens!
it seemed to sink down into her very heart. Oh, that tear,
that tear, it was a pledge of love — Good God! what
mockery for her to dream of such bliss as that which is
concentrated in the word love!

Deeper, yes, deeper, deeper down into the lowest abyss
of despair was she plunged, as all hope abandoned her.
Then she felt the tear wiped away from her face; then the
kiss was imprinted upon her brow, and then there were
sounds of hurried retreating steps, and the door closed
again, and she was once more alone. Yes, and once more
did she relapse into that stupor which gave her mental
energies the means and the leisure to repose and regain

460 THE COURT OF LONDON

their strength in order to put forth their excruciating vitality
again.

When she next awoke she became aware that there was
a candle or a lamp in the room. Through her closed eyelids
could she distinguish where it was; and then she heard
several heavy feet moving about the chamber, though with
an evident endeavour that their tread should be as light as
possible. A horrible suspicion sprang up in the poor girl's
mind; and it was almost immediately confirmed by other
sounds which struck upon her ears. These sounds were
those of wood coming in contact with wood, one thing
being lifted upon another; and then she knew that the
undertaker's men were in the room placing the shell upon
the trestles.

It instantaneously struck her that if ever the excruciation
of her mental agonies should become sufficiently keen to
inspire her physical being with new life, this must be the
moment. If the asphyxia should now prove stronger than
that anguish which was torturing her soul to such an extent
as apparently to render it capable of inspiring marble itself
with motion, then in that case did it seem as if all hope
might be really abandoned. She felt her mind struggling
within, or, rather, she made it struggle with all the violence
of desperation to force it, as it were, to give vent to its
feelings in any one of the numerous evidences of life, such
as a shudder, a shriek, a stretching forth of the arms, a
turning of the head, an opening of the eyelids, or even a
quivering of the lips. But no, nothing of all this could she
accomplish. Her mind was imprisoned in a form rigid and
impracticable as marble; and it seemed to her as if she
herself were vainly struggling for emancipation from the
interior of a stone sepulchre in which, like a Roman vestal
of ancient times, she was walled up.

But we cannot describe the full horror of her thoughts on
this head; we must leave the reader much to imagine and
depict unto himself. For now the moment, the dread
moment had come when Ariadne was to be placed in the
shell. It was from habit that the undertaker and his men
trod as gently as possible in the room, from habit that they
spoke in undertones suited to the chamber of death, from
habit that they laid their hands upon her gently and deli-
cately. It was habit all, for in their nature they were no

THE TRANCE CONTINUED 461

more susceptible of sympathy than other men. On the
contrary, from being in the frequent companionship of the
dead, they knew neither awe nor pity. Indeed, their feelings
were much blunted and their hearts much brutalized by
their avocation; and if a proof of this were wanting, it might
have been found in the fact that the housekeeper, knowing
their predilection, at this moment entered the room with a
tray containing a bottle of spirits and several glasses. There-
upon the undertaker and his men turned away from the
couch, and approached the toilet-table where the house-
keeper deposited the tray.

" Now, ma'am, will you jine in? " asked Mr. Stimson, as
he filled all the glasses around.

" Well, I'll just take a leetle drop, so as not to seem
unfriendly," said the housekeeper.

" That's right, ma'am. And now," continued Stimson,
raising a brimming glass to his lips, " here's your wery good
health, ma'am, and here's his lordship's health, too, and
wishing us all good luck," with which benediction the under-
taker screwed up his eyes, as if to shut out the fume of the
liquor as he tossed it down his throat.

Having refreshed themselves with a dram, the servitors
of death returned to the couch, and once more resumed
their hold upon Ariadne. Not the concentrated anguish of
ten thousand racks, not the essence powerfully condensed
of all the most refined excruciations of the Inquisition, can
convey any adequate idea of the agony of agonies which
the young girl now endured. All such ideas as the coiling
of fiery serpents around the form, of burning alive in can-
descent flames, of tearing off the scalp and dropping boiling
oil upon the brain laid bare, of flaying alive and searing
the excoriated flesh with red-hot iron, of passing red-hot
needles through the eyes, all such ideas as these, we say,
fell incomparably short of the illimitable agony endured
by the poor girl as the undertaker and his men lifted her from
the bed and put her into the narrow shell.

This being done, the men retraced their way to the toilet-
table, and regaled themselves with another dram.

" I never did see a corpse keep so fresh," observed Stim-
son. " There's no oozing out of the mouth, no discolouring
under the eyes, not even any particular blueness of the nails.
And then, too, she felt as limp and supple as if only in a fit."

462 THE COURT OF LONDON

" But I shouldn't like to be only half as dead for all that/'
said one of the men. " Poor thing," he continued, with
the mechanical utterance of the sympathetic ejaculation,
" she'll be discoloured and blue enough in a few days, and
she'll get stark and stiff enough, too, before she's put into
her coffin and screwed down."

Screwed down! Good heavens, what dreadful words,
overwhelming as a torrent, devouring as a conflagration,
crushing as a thunderbolt! Life appeared now to be really
ebbing away from the statue-like form of Ariadne Varian;
and oh, how she wished that she might be really dying, that
her spirit might be indeed passing, so that she could avoid
that crowning horror, that transcendent catastrophe, —
being buried alive! Again did a stupor come over her,
again were her senses wrapped in oblivion.

The undertaker and his men remained in the room until
they had emptied the bottle of spirits, and then they took
their leave of the housekeeper and their departure from the
mansion.

Presently — she could not tell how long after the stupor
had fallen upon her — a roseate radiance appeared to be
shining all around Ariadne. She was no longer in the shell,
no longer wrapped in the garments of the grave, no longer
laid out as a corpse. She felt as if she had been wafted into
some other sphere, and a strain of sweet celestial music
came floating upon her ears. Then, as those silver octaves
made the air melodious, she fancied that she beheld angel
shapes hovering before her eyes, shapes of seraphs and of
sylphs, with azure garments and white wings. The music
swelled into the divinest symphony, exultant throughout
the vast regions of space; and it seemed to the maiden
that she was wafted quick and unimpeded, but by some
invisible power, through the starry firmament, mingling
with aerial beings of indescribable beauty. An ineffable
pleasure pervaded her soul as she called to mind all the
horrors from which she had just escaped; for the barrier
between life and death seemed to be indeed passed over,
and herself emancipated from the trammels of earth and
now soaring in heaven. Presently a form of angelic loveli-
ness and radiant with the sunniest smiles came floating
through the roseate atmosphere, — a female form clad in
streaming robes of azure and of gold, arranged in alternate

THE TRANCE CONTINUED 463

foldings and spangled with countless gems. The long yellow
hair floated like a beaming meteor, diffusing an enhanced
glory all around. But nothing could equal the celestial
benignity and seraphic joy that mingled in that beauteous
countenance; so that under this angelic figuration Ariadne
recollected not immediately the features of her mother,
her long dead mother. Now indeed she knew that she was
in heaven; and extending her arms toward the advancing
shape, she anticipated the next moment to be clasped to its
bosom, when all in an instant the sweet and ecstatic thoughts
filling her soul were turned into horror and dismay, the angel
shape vanished from her view, utter darkness suddenly
entombed her, and down, down she sank as if into an un-
fathomable abyss!

Down, down she kept descending; down, down into the
blackest darkness, where the only change was that made
by hideous shapes blacker than the blackness, darker than
the darkness itself. Yes, all was confusion and whirl in her
brain, a series and a change of mental agony. Now, all of
a sudden, a tremendous light appeared; and in the distance
were seen the inextinguishable but unconsuming fires of
hell. No nearer, however, to them did she approach, but
kept falling down, down, far beyond the influence of the
molten flames that filled the vast and blazing prison of
Satan's kingdom. But as her eyes remained fixed upon
that region of fire, she saw that it broke into the shape of
immense buildings, vast palaces, tremendous domes, and
colossal pillars, all made of the living flame and exhaling
the red atmosphere which hung like a lurid cloud above it.
Still also as she gazed, she observed the background of
that vast city of Satan, — a background forming hills
and mountains, some covered with forests, others merely
dotted with groups of trees, but all wrought, as it were, out
of the lurid, opaque fire. Still keener and keener grew the
maiden's power of vision. She now beheld the windows
of all the houses, mansions, and palaces in that city of hell,
and she saw that those windows were defended by immense
bars of fire. But now the entire city seemed to be made of
red-hot iron, every feature of the place of one colour, every-
thing formed of one material. And through those bars she
beheld myriads of shadowy forms, all red and glowing as
if they themselves were penetrated with fire, or heated,

464 THE COURT OF LONDON

as it were, to a candescent and almost transparent state.
Keener grew her vision still, and she saw more. She beheld
ineffable anguish depicted on every countenance, an anguish
such as no living language can describe. In the palaces
she beheld the shapes of those who had once been the kings
and queens of the earth; but their crowns were now of red-
hot iron, fastened with red-hot nails upon their burning but
unconsuming heads. Their sceptres had changed into
fiery serpents, their orbs into scorpions of flame. The
purple, the scarlet, and the ermine robes that decorated
them on earth were succeeded by a flowing vesture of flame;
and if in any region of hell the fire was hotter and the torture
more agonizing than elsewhere, then was this supremacy
of all excruciations to be found in these palaces of the
kings and queens. In the great mansions were the shades
of those who had been prelates and church dignitaries upon
earth, and who, having made religion a means to heap up
wealth and honours for their own aggrandizement, were
now deservedly enduring retribution in the ebbless and
eternal waves of flame that swept through the mansions of
red-hot iron. And in other mansions were the lords and
those who had been great ones upon earth, but who, having
made earth a heaven for themselves and a hell for the
masses of their fellow creatures, were now enduring the
real hell of the other world.

But gradually all this tremendous spectacle began to fade
away from Ariadne's view; and still she appeared to be
falling down with the velocity of a flash of lightning, until
all was dark once more. Then gradually she awoke to the
consciousness that she had been passing through the phases
of a dream, wherein she had beholden both heaven and hell.

Then where was she? Were these thoughts, these harrow-
ing thoughts that poured back into her memory, laden with
horrible reminiscences, were all these a dream likewise?
Was it a dream that she had been in a trance, that she had
been treated as one dead, and that preparations were made
for her funeral? Was all this a dream, — ah! dared she
think so? But, no; great God! no, it was not a dream!
She was there, in utter darkness, unable to move, pent up
in the narrowest possible space; yes, she was in a trance,
and she was in her shell!

Another two days passed away; and during the interval

THE TRANCE CONTINUED 465

very brief indeed had been the moments of consciousness
endured by the unfortunate girl. But it was now on the
sixth evening of her supposed death, and while she was
suffering the tortures of a more vivid sensibility than she
had experienced for forty-eight hours past, that the door
of the chamber was opened, and again did the undertaker
and three or four of his men enter the apartment. They
bore something with them, too, something heavy and also
hollow, something that knocked against the woodwork of
the doorway as they brought it in, something ominous and
dread to think of. Yes, just Heaven! it was the damsel's
coffin that they had brought.

Her coffin! — but she is not dead, the light burns in her
soul, although it ceases to shine forth to the view of the
world; the lamp is not extinguished, the oil of life is not
exhausted. Then wherefore seize upon her now? Where-
fore carry her away from the midst of the world to which
she belongs, to consign her to the raw, damp solitude of
the grave? Oh, it is because she is believed to be dead,
and thus as a corpse she is to be treated. Now to her mind
rush the many things she has heard in her life relative to
people being buried alive, of coffins being opened years after
the interment, and the wretched inmates being found to
have turned on their sides or their faces, or to have gnawed
their own flesh for sustenance; and now, just Heaven! was
such to be her fate?

Speaking of sustenance, reminds us to observe that though
several days had elapsed since food had passed Ariadne's
lips, yet that she experienced neither hunger nor thirst, no,
nor yet that sinking at the stomach which is usually felt
through want of nourishment. All vital actions of the
system were suspended or suppressed in a physical sense;
the body seemed to be dead, all its wants and necessities
dead likewise, and yet all the senses, how keenly were they
alive !

Yes, the coffin was brought in and deposited upon the
floor. The undertaker and his men then lifted the shell
from the trestles, and placed it inside the coffin; they then
raised the coffin itself upon the trestles, leaving the lid
loosely lying on the top. Scarcely was this done when the
door opened again, and the housekeeper entered. Ariadne
knew by the rattling of the glasses that the servitors of

466 THE COURT OF LONDON

death were about to regale themselves once more with
spirits. Such was the case; but this time the tray was not
placed upon the toilet table, nor on a chair, nor on the bed,
nor yet on the chest of drawers, no, nor on any article of
furniture in the chamber, but upon the coffin-lid itself. And
then the undertaker and his men, together with the house-
keeper, all stood around that coffin and drank the spirits
which were poured out.

" Well, Mr. Stimson, how do you think the corpse looks
now? " asked the housekeeper.

" Unchanged and fresh as ever, ma'am," was the response.
" I never did see such a beautiful corpse in all my life. We'll
leave the coffin-lid off till the last moment, because the body's
so fresh. If we screwed it down, it would precious soon begin
to decompose."

Decompose! good heavens, to talk of this in the hearing
of one who was not yet dead!

" Well, now, the funeral's for the day after to-morrow,
at eleven o'clock in the forenoon," observed the housekeeper,
" and Sir Douglas Huntingdon has told me that he means
to attend; so does the marquis, out of respect for Sir
Douglas."

" Well," replied Stimson, " we shall have two mourning-
coaches, one for his lordship and the baronet, and t'other
for me and three of my men, to look like mourners and make
the funeral respectable. I always choose the most sorrow-
ful-looking of my people to go with me in a mourning-coach,
and it has a wery good effect. But last time, — that was
about a month ago, — one of 'em tumbled into the grave
when we got to the churchyard, 'cause why he got blazing
drunk."

" Well, we mustn't have any drunkenness here, Mr.
Stimson," said the housekeeper, in an authoritative tone.
" The marquis would be in a frightful way if you didn't
all keep perfectly sober."

Here the colloquy ended, the liquor was disposed of, the
party of death's servitors, together with the housekeeper,
retired, and Ariadne was now alone.

Alone — in her coffin!

END OF VOLUME VII.

PR

5221

R35M9

1860

v.7

Reynolds, George William
MacArthur

The mysteries of the Court
of London

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