Rose Mortimer; Or, The Ballet-Girl's Revenge — page 144: what you’re looking at

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

138 ROSE MORTIMER ; OR, ee eee en The necromancer bit his nether lip until it started with blood. But he dared not to press his point further. He felt that he had now to deal with a desperate woman, and that by pushing her too far it was just possible that he would overreach himself. ‘“ Well, well, my lady,” he said. ‘ As your lady- ship pleases.”’ ‘* Of course it is.” **T shall await the money at home.” **T will send to you within an hour.” “A draft for five thousand pounds, and at sight if you please.” ‘* T will say no more.” ce But—” ‘* Begone.” There was a tone of command here which there was no resisting. The change in the demeanour of the trembling girl was so remarkable that the necromancer was quite startled. So Mermet the Arab necromancer took his de- parture. As soon as he was gone Grace Walgrave’s momen- tary courage gave way. She had no dignity to support her now. She seated herself at a writing table and wrote off two long messages. This done, she addressed them and sent them off by a servant. Then she repaired to her dressing-room and made some hasty change in her dress and sallied forth. It was night. Presently when she had arrived in a dark and deserted street she took something from the bosom of her dress and pressed it passionately to her lips. It was an infant’s shoe. The sight of this tiny object appeared momentarily to unnerve the poor girl. She burst into a passionate flood of tears. ‘* My own sweet babe!” she murmured, as she gazed upwards through her tear-dimmed eyes, ‘* we ae again, where I may claim you in life, sweet angel !”’ An individual entered the street from the opposite Side, and was approaching in her direction. With a frightened gesture she concealed the infant’s shoe and hurried on, panting with the haste she was observing in her progress. * * * * * Grace Walgraye has surely some dread purpose in this lonely ramble. Some dire intent of mischief must now fill her thoughts. Unhappy girl! CHAPTER LV. PLEASANT ANTICIPATIONS—AN ALARMING LETTER —WALGRAVE HOUSE AGAIN—WATERLOO BRIDGE —THE SUICIDE—CAN THEY SAVE HER ?—THE BOAT CAPSIZED—A PERILOUS SITUATION. MERMET the Arab was seated in his chamber of magic and mystery. 3 A small book lay open before him, in which he, was writing hiereogiyphic memoranda, By his eager gestures it would appear that he was greatly interested in his task. The fact was that the necromancer was adding up the gains of the past week, and the result as yet—ap- peared highly satisfactory. ‘“Humph!”’ he muttered, ‘‘it is after alla much more thriving trade than one would suppose. ‘That Walgrave business will swell the amount very nicely. A dozen such windfalls and I should retire from the business, although I must fain confess that I rather like the sort of life I lead now, since that accursed chance has so misshapen this hideous form. It pleases me to see the fools so gulled—to see how the flimsiest deception takes with these shallow-pated Londoners. Grace Walgraye is booked for five thou- sand pounds, and I may yet count upon her for at least as much more. Poor creature! it is really most amusing to see how readily she falls into the little pit I have so carelessly dug for her.” As he spoke these words a chuckle of satisfaction rattled in his throat, and he looked quite animated. There was a knock. ‘* Enter.” The Arab domestic of the necromancer made his appearance. ** A letter, sahib,’”’ he said. The Arab, his master, took the missive and dis- missed the man. ‘* From whom, I wonder,” he said. He opened the letter and read it through in silence. As he went on a sudden change came over his countenance. The expression of satisfaction vanished like magic. He grew serious and bit his lip until the blood came, *¢ Confound it !’? he muttered. ‘If this should fail me, I am indeed lost beyond all redemption. I must see to it. It begins to look black, and it seems to me that I was congratulating myself too early upon my success. Let me read.” He went through the letter again. -Itran thus:— “ Ere you receive this the writer will be beyond your reach. You have too soon declared your real character, and the unhappy and unguarded girl breathes defiance in your teeth. Your deception has met with its just reward. Beware, too, in future, for such damning evidence is left behind of your culpa- bility that it will go hard with you should justice ever lay its avenging hand upon you. And this must come, believe me. Sooner or later the just retribution of Providence will overtake you. You will fall then, and no earthly power, no cunning, can save you! “ G. W.”’ It is not to be wondered at that the necnomancer was a little bit flustered by this alarming epistle. The little colour which he had in his cheek deserted it, and it was clear that he was in no trifling embar- rasment, He gradually got to think more calmly over it. Then he rang the bell, and the ever-ready Ahmet appeared. *‘ Sahib ?”” said he, ** My cloak.”’ * Yes, sahib.”’ . ‘‘My hat. Now call me a cab.” *€ Yes, sahib.” Mermet hobbled down the stairs and got into the cab. “ Walgrave House,’ said the Arab. °F Yes, siv.’7 J Arrived at the residence of the unhappy Grace | Walgrave, Mermet sprang out of the cab with sur- prising agility. A peal at the bell and a noisy rat-tat brought a lazy-looking flunkey in a gorgeous livery to the door. “Miss Grace Walgraye ?”’ “Gone out,” said the menial, asif doing Mermet the greatest personal service. ‘© Where ?” The servant looked most supremely astonished at the question, COLT GIOOKS nC)