Rose Mortimer; Or, The Ballet-Girl's Revenge — page 202: what you’re looking at

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

196 ROSE MORTIMER. As they were seated in a mercer’s shop a man of a |\ particularly brutal aspect passing the door paused to peer in curiously at them. Blanche Bowerini, chancing to look up at the owner of the shadow darkening the doorway, uttered a Scream, and the man passed hurriedly on. ‘** Look, Rose, look,’’ she cried. What is it ?”” ‘Signor Bowerini. He has seen me. looking in. What can he want?’ “‘No-matter. He cannot harm you now.” “No, no. I know. But it has made me tremble so. I seem to dread that man as much as ever. That night, when all the household were wrapped in slumber, Lady Rosalia was rudely startled from her sleep by a loud shriek. A succession of piercing screams caused her to spring from her bed, hastily throw on a loose wrapper, and run from the room. : The cries were repeated, and Rose was not a little surprised and alarmed to find that they proceeded from the direction of Blanche’s chamber. She ran along the passage, and speedily found that not she alone had been aroused by the cries. The artist, from the opposite side, dashed up to the spot as Rose appeared in sight. “‘ What is it ?”’ cried he. ‘*T don’t know. Burst open the door,’’ Jack Halliday raised his foot, and with one well- directed kick sent the door flying in. There a fearful sight met their view. Blanche was struggling upon the ground with a burly ruffian, whose face was blackened to disguise him. But, in spite of this, our heroine reeognised the form upon the instant as that of Signor Bowerini. The artist sprang forward and jumped upon the midnight intruder. With one blow upon the face he sent him stagger- ing back. I saw’ him A- second stretched him full length upon the | ground, and sent a bloodstained knife spinning from his hand. Rose ran up to poor Blanche, who was bleeding copiously from an ugly looking gash in the shoulder. ‘* Dear Blanche, are yon badly hurt ?” “‘T doubt not,”’ said Blanche faintly. you came as you did.”’ And she fainted. “Oh! Blanche, Blanche! ’’ cried rose in agony. “ He has killed her !”’ That’s some satisfaction, then,’ said the ratian: By this time the servants had been aroused, and eame running there in dozens, “‘T’m glad 2) SS SS eee Tle ae 6B MR 91 ‘Secure him,” said our heroine. ‘* Bind him securely. He must be carried at once to prison.” **T don’t mind that, my dear,” said the ‘ruffian scornfully. ‘* Bowerini,’’ said Rose, ‘‘ if that poor girl is hurt badly—if anything should happen to her—you puall hang for it as sure as there is a sky above us.’ He was borne away, and then they began to insti- tute an inquiry as to how he had contrived to effect an entrance into the house. One of tle servants soon discovered that the win- dow of Blanche’s room was open, and this explained all. He had clambered up the ivy and broken open tho window. A surgeon was sent for without delay, and the wound upon being examined was found to be but slight. It was only a flesh wound in the shoulder, and a little sponging and strapping settled tlie matter. But Bowerini was fairly caught now, and it wus not likely that he would find it an easy matter to escape from the clutches of avenging justice. He was brought to trial, and found guilty of wound- ing with intent to murder Blanche. Many ugly cir- cumstances came out in connection with his past career, and it went hard with him, He was audacious and insolent to the court upon the trial, and penal servitude for life was the result of it. He was sent toone of the penal settlements, and was never heard of again in England, for good or evil. * % # ~~ ea * A fortnight passed, aud Sloeford Beis was all excitement. From top to bottom of the house was one grand movement. Early in the morning a grand equipage droye up . to the house, and who should alight bat Edgar Deville, arrayed in an unmistakeably Nymeneal livery ? He had come to give the bride away. And presently the party drove off to the village church, the whole of the route being thronged with the tenants of the Sloeford estate, who had turned out to do honour to their landlady and their future land- lord, In the course of a very little while the artist quitted the church smiling all over his inteiligent face, and bearing upon his arm, all blushes and suits Lady Rosalia Halliday. And thus ends, we trust to the satisfaction of all, the history of Rose Mortimer. THE END. THE LONDON ROMANCE COMPANY. ee Eomichboo