Ellen Percy; or, The Memoirs of an Actress — page 136: what you’re looking at

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

a ¢ ~ ELLEN PERCY; OR, THE “ No, no!—wait not in the cold!” rejoined the crone, flinging open the front door again. “The air is bleak—and my grand-daughter will be two or three minutes before she will be ready to ac- company you. She has just run up-stairs to dress herself. You surely are not too proud to enter my humble dwelling ?” * No,” I responded, suddenly putting aside my fears at this appeal from the old woman. “ But for heayen’s sake let your grand-daughter make haste !—or do you yourself come with me!” * Zarah will go,” said the crone. “Pray walk in and warm yourself for a minute by the fire.” I entered the passage: the old woman threw open the door; and with every appearance of respectfulness she stood aside for me to pass before her into the room. But the instant I entered, she closed the door violently, and turned the key in the lock. A cry burst from my lips as I thus found myself a prisoner; and I turned quickly round to try and force open the door. But it was too late. It was a ground floor room; and I sped to the window, which was a small one of the lattice de- scription. 1 opened it: but the light of the candle which was burning upon the table, showed me that it had bars outside. “Do not be afraid, my sweet young lady !” said the voice of the old crone, as her countenance ap- peared at those bars. ‘Tell me where the accident occurred; and Zarah shall speed to the succour of the man ye | “Infamous woman!” I ejaculated: “ how dare you treat me thus? If you require money I will give it to you: but I demand that you immedi- ately restore me to freedom.” “That cannot be, Miss Percy,” answered the old gipsy, now for the first time addressing me by my name. “ As for your money, keep it.” “ Good heayens!’’ I exclaimed, as wild appre- hensions swept through my mind; “what is the meaning of this? For God’s sake tell me!—-keep me not in suspense!—let me know the worst, whatever it be!” “ My sweet girl, you need have no fear for your life,” responded the old gipsy. “No one will harm a hair of your head. But-tell me in which direc- tion the accident has occurred # “At a very short distance towards Birming- ham,” I answered, thinking that in any case the unfortunate driver had better have assistance as goon as possible. ‘‘ But I beseech you *: I stopped short; for the hideous wrinkled coun- tenance of the old woman was withdrawn from the bars through which she had been staring at me; and in afew moments I heard her re-enter the house, From the passage she called out in a loud tone for her grand-daughter; and then I heard hasty footsteps descending a staircase. There was some whispering in the passage; I stole to the door to listen, if possible, to what was being said : but I could not catch a single syllable. I however heard one of the whisperers immediately after- wards leave the house; and I concluded it must be Zarah. The front door was then closed; and the old woman began ascending the stairs—for I could tell that it was she by her footsteps. I had now leisure to glance around me; and I found that I was in a small meanly furnished room. There was a rag of a carpet upon the floor MEMOIES OF AN ACTRESS. 123 —a small round table in the centre—three or four common rush-bottomed chairs—and some wretched coloured prints, in black painted frames, suspended to the dingy walls. Isat down, almost overcome by this sudden calamity which had befallen me. There was an image, like that of the Genius of Mischief floating in my brain; for apart from this association I could by no means form the slightest conjecture in respect to the motive of my capti- vity. I rose from my seat, and tried the bars with my hands. They were thin, but firmly set in the brick-work of the wall. JI pulled hard at one of them: but my attempt to moyeit was vain. I was about to examine the door to see if it were possible to wrench off the lock, when I heard the footsteps of a man descending the stairs. I now felt that I should know the worst. The key turned in the lock—the door opened—and he whose image had previously been floating in my mind, made his appearance. Need I inform the reader that this was Edwin Sé. Clair P As he entered the room, an expression of triumph, malignant and mischievous, appeared upon his countenance; and I said within myself, “Now God help me!” —for I felt that I was completely in his power. But still I endeavoured to assume an air of confidence and indignation, so that the terror which I really experienced should not be apparent. “Fortune has favoured me, Ellen,” began St. Clair, as he locked the door and placed the key in his pocket. ‘This is an unexpected pleasure. IL have been thinking of you—I have been speaking of you: but little did 1 dream a few minutes back that circumstances would so soon bring us face to face again !” “ Captain St. Clair,” I answered, “ you seem to have marked me out as an object for your ran- corous persecution. Heaven has hitherto protected me; and heaven will protect me again! ‘Towards myself i have acted foolishly, in abstaining from an invocation of the law to punish you for your past misconduct: but this time K “This time, Ellen,” interrupted St. Clair, with a malignant smile—but at the same time fixing his burning regards upon me in a way that filled me with affright,—“ this time I will not be lenient towards you: I will make you mine! The pride of Ellen Percy will prevent her from going forth to the world to proclaim her own dishonour; and she will accept her destiny—namely, that of St. Clair’s mistress.” “Never, villain!” I exclaimed. sooner !” “The days of romance are gone by,” he inter. jected, with a scoffing tone; “and young ladies do not die so readily as in books or on the stage. I tell you, Ellen, that you shall be mine! You might have been my wife: more than once have I offered you my hand—and I swear that at the time I was serious and sincere! But you scorned my love: you have covered me witha thousand humiliations —the tables are however turning—and it is now yourself that will be humiliated! Think you not that I have a vengeance to wreak as well as a pas- sion to gratify? You know, Ellen, that I ama strange being: Iam not like other men. I can love and hate at the same time. You told Lady Lilla Essendine how you bafiled me on the last occasion that you were at my house: you placed in *T will die CORNIELAOO <S Com