Rose Mortimer; Or, The Ballet-Girl's Revenge — page 32: what you’re looking at

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

26 20SE MORTIMER ; OR, a ‘‘ How dare you say such words? Keep your oath and let me go in peace, or—”’ ‘Or what?” sneered the man. ‘‘ Or it will be the worse for you. You dare not keep me.’’ ‘© We'll see about that,’ said the man. Catching her up in his arms, despite of her strug- gles, he bore her to another room, and then, setting her down, locked the door and put the key in his pocket. I will not stop. CHAPTER X. THE INNER CHAMBER —THE PUNISHMENT OF CURIOSITY—LIFE OR DEATH-—THE GANG OF RUFFIANS—THE OATH—THE FIRST CRIME— THE COUNTERFEIT HALF-CROWN—DESPAIR. THROUGH a narrow passage was Edgar Deville led by the count, the pistol all the while pointed at his head. A thousand times he cursed himself for his foolish curiosity. A thousand times he reproached himself for what he had done. Had he but obeyed his host’s command he might have been seated in a sumptuously furnished apart- ment, with everything which money could purchase to be had for the asking, instead of being surrounded by a gang of ruffians, and in danger of his life. What were they going to do with him? There were many ominous whisperings amongst the men. Would his life be sacrificed ? He looked up appealingly at the count, but his head was turned away from him. He spoke, and instantly a handkerchief was tied se- curely over his mouth. A few moments in the passage, and their further progress was barred by a heavy door. One of the party unlocked it, and Edgar saw that it was lined with iron and secured in a similar manner to the one which led from the mysterious wing into the inhabited portion of the house. In silence he was conducted into a large room, which was lighted by a number of oil lamps placed on brackets around if. The apartment was destitute of furniture, but was filled in a great measure by machinery. Presses, stamping machines, and others of which he was at a loss to define the use were arranged about, and all apparently in the best working order. A clear space was left in the centre of the chamber, and thither the count conducted his guest. At a signal a heavy trap in the floor was lifted so close to Edgar’s feet as to make him start back in fear. It disclosed a black yawning chasm which appeared to be bottomless. Still a deathlike silence prevailed. It was not broken till the count spoke. ‘‘ Comrades,’’ said he, ‘‘ we have a law that every spy upon us dies: we play too desperate a game to run the chance of detection.”’ Edgar shuddered. He saw the reason the trap had been opened. Peering into the blackness of that abyss he saw his grave. 3 He, a young man full of life and hope and energy, felt that in a few short minutes he would be a lifeless mass, a shapeless nameless thing. No wonder that he shuddered. No wonder that an icy chill crept through his frame, There are few men so brave as to remain unmoved when suddenly brought face to face witl death. He strove to beg for mercy, but the bandage about his mouth was too tightly fastened. An indistinct murmur, and that was all. * Say,’’ said the count, ‘“ what is to be this spy’s fate ?”’ *€ Death !’’ answered all the men. The tone in which they spoke was low, but it was none the less determined for that. Edgar glanced round appealingly, but not one face did he see with an expression of pity upon it. He could expect no mercy. He had been found prying into that with which he had no concern. He possed a secret which, were he at liberty, would give hima power over all the gang which it was not likely they would suffer him to make use of, They were judge, jury, and executioners, His fate was sealed. Still he could hardly think that Count Lérno—he by whose side he had so recently sat, who had treated him as his honoured guest—would sanction his murder in cold blood. The count’s face was still averted. He could not speak, but, as a last resource, he threw himself on his knees and raised his hands imploringly. The count lowered the muzzle of his pistol. A murmur of disapprobation went through the gang. ** What does that mean ?”’ cried their leader fiercely. . “‘AmTI not chief here? By what right do you dis- pute my will?” “Our law says ‘ Death to spies.’ Let him dic,” answered one of the men sorlily. “¢ Tf I choose to spare this man’s life, I am answer- able. It is my business.”’ ‘And ours also, Our risk is equal with yours, count.” . ‘* So be it,’’ said the count. Again he raised his pistol and pointed it at the head of Edgar Deville. Edgar firmly believed his last moment had come. Involuntarily he closed his eyes. ““ Wait!”’ said thecount, “‘I have a plan to pro- pose.’’ *‘No—no! Let him die,” cried one. “Why should he be spared ?”’ said another, “* Death by our laws,’’ muttered a third. “You speak like fools,’ said the count angrily. To Edgar Deville the agony of suspense was terrible. He knew not what might be his fate. The count seemed disposed to spare his life, but the gang of ruffians thirsted for his blood. Be was dear to him—he never knew how dear till then. He longed for the power of speech to plead his own cause. He was prepared to take the most solemn oath never to reveal that which he had seen, but he had not the opportunity to do so, When next the count spoke, it was in alow calm voice. ‘ ‘‘ Comrades, I know as well as you do that this spy deserves death at our hands ; but, for all that, I pro- pose to spare him.” - No, no!” ‘‘ Hear what I have to say.”’ ‘* Ay, ay, we will hear you, but even you can’t talk us ont of the rules and Jaws we have made.”’ ‘*T don’t wish to. The law was made and still holds good, But still there may be occasions in which itis better to depart from it.” “Tm blow~4 if I can see it.” ‘In the first place this man was my friend —” oF That's nothing to do with us, It’s no business of ours, DOOIKS