Agnes, or, Beauty and Pleasure — page 10: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

I] ~ fourmured bitterly to himself, “ Doubtless another day of disappointment for me! No letter! All the appeals which I address to the Government of my country are vain!—the intervention of friends seems to be useless! But what matters it? Am I not altogether wretched and miserable ? —have I not upon my mind enough to drive me to distraction and impel me to suicide? But no, no—I must live! Yes—I must see Corinna; and then *s e Here the maid-of-all-work was heard ascending the stairs: she tapped at the door of the apart- ment, and Marcellin bade her enter. She held a letter in her hand: it was for him—bhe knew the writing!—it was from a trusty friend in Paris! He hastened to tear open the missive, but more than half with the sickenifg apprehension that it would prove but a repetition of former communi- cations to the effect that memorials and petitions were all alike unavailing. But no! there were hopeful words at the very outset; and now Edgar began to devour the contents of that letter. He read on—joy was arising in his heart—it ex- panded—there was ample reason as well as scope for its play: the happiest tidings had reached him at length from that quarter whence for so many long dreary months naught but disappointments had flowed! The ban of exile was lifted from off him—his innocence in the political plot on ac- count of which he had suffered, had at length been made fully manifest—and he was restored to all his rights as a French citizen. But this was not all; and the present case afforded a striking illustration of the truth of the proverb which says that “it never rains but it pours:’’ for all Edgar's pecuniary affairs had been settled and adjusted, and he was not merely reinstated in bis politicai rights, but also in the possession of riches. An immense load was lifted from the mind of Edgar Marcellin; and if he were not completely happy, at all events he felt his heart more buoyant than for a long time past it had been. His friend in Paris had remitted to a London banker certain funds for his immediate use; and Edgar lost no time in replenishing a purse which for a long time past had been but slenderly furnished. To make immediate emendations in his toilet, and to take measures for the complete re-equipment of his wardrobe with the least possible delay, were mat- ters of easy accomplishment for one possessing adequate funds in our metropolis, where all kinds of resources seem inexhaustible ;—and thus within two or three hours after the receipt of, the weleome letter, Edgar Marcellin was already another being, alike in personal appearance and inward feeling. This was the second day after his interview with Corinna in the neighbourhood of Sidney Villa, on which memorable occasion he had heard himself branded as the murderer of Giulio Paoli in Flo- rence. Yes, it was the second day since that occur- rence, when he had seen Corinna sink down sense- less upon the floor! He had called the next day to inquire after her; but he only saw one of the domestics of the villa; and the information he re- ceived was but too well calculated to fill his mind with distress. He was now about to repeat his inquiries at Sidney Villa; and accordingly, be- tween two and three o’clock in the afternoon, he bent his way towards that neighbourhood. This was the hour at which he had been told he might > ST ee AGNES; OR, BEAUTY AND PLEASURE. call; for otherwise his impatience would have led him to the villa immediately after the receipt of the welcome letter in the morning. The young Frencaman was emerging from the Regent’s Park and entering the road leading to- wards the residence of Agnes Evelyn, when he was accosted by a young female, who had the appearance of belonging to some foreign nation, and whose accent as she spoke English, proved that such was the fact. Accosting Edgar, she said, “Would you have the kindness, sir, to tell me the way a “Good heavens!” ejaculated Edgar, giving vent to the exclamation in French; and then, having again for a few moments studied the young woman’s features, he cried in Italian, “Surely you are that seli-same Lisetta whom I beheld at a certain villa in the Vale of Arno some eight months ago?” “Yes, sigaor,” responded Lisetta—for she it in- deed was; and she sow also spoke in her own native Italian tongue: “that is my name. ButI do not recollect Ab! is it possible? Can you be that French gentleman, M. Marcellin “df “Yes—I am he,” replied Edgar. “Bat you find me much changed? [I have been very ill— or at least I have suffered much and then too, in this country, a foreigner finds it more conve- nient to appear with his face as smooth as pos- sible,”"—at the same time touching his upper lip and his chin; “so that it was really no wonder, Lisetta, if you did not immediately recognise me. Bat what are you doing in England ?” “Do not question me, signor,” responded Lisetta: “I have a duty to perform—and [ shall accomplish it,” she added, with a singular expres- sion of countenance. “Therefore, if you can aid me by indicating the way towards a place called Sidney Viila r “Ah! you are going thither?” said Marcellin, with an air of surprise. “But is it possible that 2 “Do not detain me, signor,” said the Italian girl urgently; “but show me the way, if you bappen to know it.” “Tam going thither,” rejoined Edgar; “and you can accompany me.” “You, signor, going thither?” ejaculated Lisetta. “ But this is strange !” “Yes—and I likewise find it strange,” ex- claimed Marcellin, “to encounter you here, and to learn that your destination is the same as mine. Let us not hesitate to give explanations and com- pare notes.” “ Assuredly not,” replied Lisetta. “My busi- ness is with a young lady named Corinna Paoli. Ab! signor, you cannot surely have forgotten that mysterious tragedy —the assassination of the young page Giulio Pr “ Forgotten it ?” exclaimed Edgar. “ No—by heaven! it were not easy to forget it !’—and then he thought within himself, “ Tais is more and more strange ; for at all events the girl does not seem to be awara of the accusation made against myself !” “ J& was indeed a horrible occurrence, sigaor,” said wisett.. “ Bot do you know Corinna Paoli? are you aware, then, that it wes her own brother —alas, poor Giulio!” aud Lisetta hastily dashed away the tears from her eyes. (Q) (EO LNOOLK LLP ELL OC A om nee 5}