Agnes, or, Beauty and Pleasure — page 20: what you’re looking at

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

12 AGNES; OR, BEAUTY AND PLEASURE, pained by the idea: “I would do you all earthly | much as it belonged to a part of the building good if it were in my power! At all events I am your friend Ob, believe me! I am your friend!—and I seek your friendship in return. But tell me if I am known unto you?” The stranger now let fall the cape which he had — gathered high up beneath the brim of his hat, and which he had held over his countenance so as almost completely to conceal it. Now, as he re- vealed that countenance, Signor Paoli contem- plated it for upwards of a minute, vainly search- ing in his memory to ascertain whether he had ever beheld it before. But at length he shook his head, saying, “Ido not know you, signor. you an Italian? Methinks not. ance—your accent re “ No—I am not an Italian,” was the response. * But come hither with me!—we must not remain in this vestibule, where af any moment we may be disturbed !” ; The stranger was-advancing towards the back part of the vestibule, when Paoli stopped him, saying, “Signor, I cannot follow you to any inner part of these premises. 1 am bound for many reasons to leave them at once. i owe the Mar- chioness a debt of gratitude 4g * Ah! you think so!”—and strange indeed was the look which accompanied this ejaculation on the part of the unknown. Your appear- Are secluded from the view of any one who should which was little frequented at that hour—termi- nated in another door, which Marcellin aiso opened by means of the same key. This door led into the gardens belonging to the mansion, and which stretched to the next street, from which these grounds were separated by a boundary-wall. Paoli was closely following Edgar Marcellin, who had taken care to re-lock the doors through which they passed, as already described. “ Come this way!” said Marcellin, hurrying his companion forward to an avenue of evergreens, in the shade of which they might be eompletely happen to traverse the garden. The windows of the brilliantly-lighted saloons looked upon the pleasure-grounds: the roseate lustre was streaming forth through the crimson draperies ; and the sounds of music were wafted to the ears of the Frenchman and the Neapolitan as they walked together in that avenue. Paoli longed to ask questions—but he curbed his curi- f | | proach towards familiar discourse until he should | osity: he had still to receive proofs that Edgar Marcellin was not the murderer of his son—and therefore he chose not to make the slightest ap- be thoroughly convinced on this point. * We hare much to talk about, signor,’ began Edgar Marcellin, ‘“ But let me in the first in- “Your conduct is altogether so singular—so | stance reiterate the solemn assurance that I am unaccountable,” observed Paoli, “that unless you | as innocent as you yourself are of your son’s at once give me sufficient reason to believe that | death !” you have veritably matters of importance to com- “Then you know who his murderer was ?” said municate, I shall beg that our mterview may here | Paoli in a hollow voice ; and the next instant he at once end.” ** No—it cannot end: but it shall be as you desire,” said the stranger; “and you shall re- | ceive at once the proof that I have matters of | importance to communicate. I am start not! give vent to no ejaculation! attempt no violence ! I am Edgar Marcellin!” Paoli, despite the injunction he had received, literally bounded as if he were galvanized ; and then—still despite all those opposite injunctions— a cry was about to peal forth from his lips and his arms were stretching forth that his hands might clutch the supposed murderer of his son, when Edgar said with a peremptoriness of tone that produced an instantaneous effect, “ Peace ! be still! I know what you think :— you are de- ceived! Reflect for a moment! If 1 were a rourderer, should I have thus revealed myself unto ou ?” , Paoli was at once smitten with the justice and plausibility of the words that thus smote his ear; and he said, “‘ Good heavens! is it possible? You innocent!” “ Yes, insocent !” rejoined Edgar. “And I am here in Florence to bring the guilty one to justice! Now will you follow my counsel P—will you act as I demand? Come with me!” Paoli had within the last few minutes passed through such transitions of feeling, that he was now bewildered and confused—almost stupi- fied; so that he was as it were an automaton to be directed by the will of the young Frenchman. At the end of the vestibule there was a glass door ;, and this Kdgar Marcellin at once proceeded to open by means of a key which he had about him. A passage—which was only dimly lighted, inas- | gasped with the emotion which was excited by the painful topic. ** Yes—I know,” responded Edgar, “ whose hand it was that levelled the fatal weapon which dealt death to the unfortunate Giulio! But let us in the first place enter upon a few explana- tions. I knew you by sight, because some months ago I dwelt in the same street as yourself and your family in the British metropolis—it was in the neighbourhood of Leicester Square fe “ What ! do I remember aright ?” interrupted Paoli. “ You wore a beard and moustache then ——” “ Yes,” rejoined Edgar. “ And now bear with me patiently while I tell you But in the first instance learn that I have lately been restored to my country—I am once more rich i! “And to what is all this to lead ?” demanded Paoli, somewhat impatiently. “To the avowal that I love your daughter Corinna = * Ah!” ejaculated Paoli, with increasing asto- nishment. ‘“ You know her, then?” “T know her—I have dong known her!—and with your consent, she shall become my bride! Ten days ago I parted from her it was at Sidney Villa and I then vowed that I would come straight to Florence, not merely to prove- the black falsity of the hideous accusation levelled against myself, but likewise to enable you to avenge the death of your son Giulio! Scarcely an hour has elapsed since I arrived in the Tuscan capital. I at once proceeded to your lodgings, ac- cording as your address was indicated in the letter which you wrote to Miss Evelyn; but you were not at home. I was determined not to allow the book 5}