Penny Dreadfuls, 1865 · page 140 of 204
Rose Mortimer; Or, The Ballet-Girl's Revenge — page 140: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# This Page from "Rose Mortimer; Or..." This is a page of running prose from Chapter LIII of a Victorian penny dreadful serialization. The text depicts Clara St. John discovering a dying old man bleeding in a secret passage at Sloeford House. She helps him escape, then returns to her chamber where Lady Bellisle suddenly arrives. Clara becomes suspicious, recalling overhearing Bellisle in conversation with the Earl of Sloeford, and now wonders if Bellisle is connected to murders—both of an earl and of the wounded man. The chapter title promises "blood," "family secrets," and "confession," establishing the sensational melodrama typical of the genre.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
ROSE MORTIMER ; OR; CHAPTER LIII. CLARA ST. JOHN AGAIN — HER DIFFICULTIES SUBDUED — THE BLEEDING STEWARD — THE NOVEL ANGEL OF MERCY —A NARRATION OF BLOOD—FAMILY SECRETS—THE CONFESSION" CLARA’S DEFIANCE— COUSIN, BEWARE !” THE intelligent, reader will, remember. that, we parted company with Clara St. Jobn at Sloeford House at a most critical juncture, Having penetrated the secret passage which she had discovered communicating with her sleeping apartment, she had encountered a host,.of difficulties, against. which it was almost impossible to, struggle. “The poor old man was bleeding unto death in the passage. The door of the panelling had closed, and she had no idea in which direction it was. She searched around eagerly. But it was all in vain. In the meantime the groans of the old man grew fainter and fainter. At length they were scarcely audible, but by their very indistinctness struck more terribly upon wlivalad S ear. He must die. It was cruelly hard: For the first time, perhaps, in the ‘course: of ‘her life, she felt inclined to do a charitable action, and now adverse fortune so fatally opposed its perform- ance. “‘T die, I’ die! ’’ she could now hear the-poor old man murmur in feeble accents.. ‘fThis is hard indeed. Oh! inhuman monster!” *¢T’ll come to you,”’ said Clara. And she began to retrace her steps as rapidly as possible. ‘Inhuman dog!’ continued the old man. has slain me, as he slew my noble lord!” Clara pricked up hey ears at this. It was something important to learn, and now an- other motive-was added to her desire to preserve the old man’s life. With cautious strides she regained his side. ‘I’m here, poor old man,’ she’ said, bending over his bleeding form, ‘* Bless you !”’ ** How are you now ?”’ “‘T don’t think there’s many minutes’ life in me now.”’ “¢ Say not so.’’ * Alas! it is too true. tend my hurt ?’ ““T cannot find the outlet.” “*T can show you—or I could,”’ he added painfully, ‘‘ifI were not beyond it now. At the end ofthe pas-. sage straight before you, a little above your head to the right, you will feel a round button projecting from the flat wood. Press it.” Ere he could conclude Clara was again’ upon her feet. She hastily regained the end of the passage and searched eagerly for the knob. Yes, he was correct, The knob was there—pressed, and. the secret door revolved. As she regained her own apartment there was a knock at the door. Another second and she would have been too late. “¢ Who’s there ?” : ‘* It-is I,’’ answered the voice of Lady Bellisle. “Oh! come in, pray, my dear cousin,” cried Clara warmly. Her-ladyship entered so calmly, with such a serene smile upon her pale face, that Clara was quite startled, ‘* He Have you the materials to Was it possible that this weman,so young and beautiful, could be connected with the murder of wx. Earl of Sloeford, her own uncle?. . Was it possible, moreover, that she had. heen scr immediately connected with the assassination of the old man who lay weltexng in his gore not. cd yards from that very chamber ? It would indeed seem scarcely possible. | Yet there was no mistaking the voice which Clara had overheard in such earnest.conversation with the present Earl of Sloeford. ‘“My dear. Clara,” snid her ladyship, with the sweetest of smiles, ‘I thought that you were sleep-~ ing.’’ | ‘< Yes,” said Clara, with tolerable coolness, you knock more than once ?” “Once, A hundred times—nay, perhaps a dozen times.” *“ Indeed 7?” «Yes. Why, what have you done to your hand, Clara dear ?” Clara looked down; and discovered, to her notrifling confusion, that it was stained with ‘the bload ye the: dying man. The poor old man who lay panting for assistance i in the secret passage. The dying victim of the fair girl who stood talking: so calmly to his would-be preserver. ‘© T—J don’t know exactly,” said Clara.) “Tt is bleeding.” idige ‘Yes. I remember I cut it.’’ ‘¢ Remember ?”’ iterated Lady eet ff It would scarcely seem to be so serious as I should take it to be, then?” nt ““No, no, it is not serious. But for what special business do you come to me, my dear cousin??? ‘Only to make a few arrangements for our trip, you know, dear.” “ Yes; but can I beg you to put them off is the present ? yp ** Wherefore ?” **T am unwell.” “ Indeed,” said Lady Bellisle, | Is‘it poses my dear ? Can I be of any service ?” ‘No, I thank you.” ‘¢ Will you have Doctor Sampson ?” “No, no; it is nothing, It will ark os imme- diately.”” ‘Can I get you anything ?” ‘Will you send me some plaster for my band by the girl ?”’ “Yes, certainly.” And with this the amiable Lady Pellisle ran off, ‘to her consin’s no small relief. iia ‘“‘ What a singular chance !”’ said Clara, * And so immediately after, too. She must have an iron nerve. She is a wonderful woman, and certainly deserves to succeed, unless I can spoil their fortune, and in truth there seems some appearance of it.”’ The servant came in with’ the plaster at this moment. Clara desired her to bring a bowl of hot water, some lint, and one or two little etceteras. She carefully closed and fastened her bedroom door, and provided herself with a light. Then once more she penetrated the passage, which had proved such an eventful spot for her. As she entered she was rather dismayed at not hearing the murmurs of the wounded man. However, she lost not a minute in gaining his side. He was perfectly still. He lay motionless, pale, and ghastly, and in a per- fect pool of his own gore. It was a spectacle which must have unneryed any woman less determined than Clara St. John. But now there was a purpose to serve, % Did SOMUGIOOKS TTR aT Ly