Ellen Percy; or, The Memoirs of an Actress — page 303: what you’re looking at

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

290 i EEE suddenly exclaimed, “this would prove an under- taking in which the exposure of all that concerns you must become inevitable !—and I would sooner see a thousand fortunes slip from my grasp than that we should arrive at such a dreadful catas- trophe !”’ _ “ Nevertheless, Ellen,” responded my father, “‘I say, as in the other case, that it is my duty to make the attempt—and that duty shall be per- formed. Great villains are sometimes terrified when the thunder-cloud lowers above their heads and threatens to break. At all events, perhaps Parks may be driven into a compromise; and that were better than @ total abandonment of all your just rights. We will see to-morrow what can be done. Rest assured however that for your sake far more than for mime own, I would avoid every- thing that might tend to produce an exposure. You, my child, have already been sufficiently humiliated in your own secret thoughts on your father’s account:—you shall not be humiliated publicly! Think you there is any danger of that villain St. Clair proclaiming to the world whatso- ever he knows concerning me, and all that he may have heard passing between us ere now when like an apparition through the mist he stole on us un- awares P” “T do not apprehend the slightest danger on that head,” was my response. “St. Clair fights his battles secretly ; and like the bravo he stabs in the dark. Doubtless, if he had ere now succeeded in carrying off that precious document, he would have given such immediate information as would have visited you, my dear father, with a terrible calamity, and would have led to exposure before it could have been ascertained that the pardon *was really amongst the records at the Home Office. But now that he has failed he will remain tranquil remembered all his wicked threats. ‘‘ However, let us not think of him ;—but pray bear in mind, my dear father, that there is every reason why you should conduct all your proceedings witk fuze ut- most circumspection, so as to avoid exposure.” . My father reiterated the assurance that he would observe all possible caution ; and I then pro- ceeded to inform him that I had written to Mrs, Oldcastle to acquaint her that his pardon had been procured—for I had already by letter made him aware that in her I hac Jound a relative. ~ © But you have kept her in ignorance of every- thing that regards my fatal complicity with the treacherous part that was played to your friend poor Juliet P’—and my father spoke anxiously and rapidly. “Yes,” I answered : “I have not suffered Mrs, Oldcastle to learn that you have passed by the name of Croft. I would not for the world that either she or the Normans should suspect os “Enough, my dear child!” interrupted my father : “I know that you are all carefulness and caution on these points. But that name of Croft, I shall bear it no longer! At the same time, Ellen, I will not resume my own name. it has been tarnished by the incidents of my past life ; and moreover, as you have promised to see me from time to time in whatsoever seclusion I may retire to, when the important duties which I have on hand shall be accomplished, it will be necessary to adopt such measures as to prevent it from becom- —_ at least for a time,” I added with a sigh, as I ELLEN PERCY; OR, THE MEMOIRS OF AN ACTRESS. ing known or suspected that I am your father. You must pursue your brilliant career without sustaining injury from such a kinship: in short, my dear child, it must never be known to the world that I am your father! Pray give utter- ance to no remonstrance—adyance no argument against this decision on my part. Yet will I take a name which belongs to the family, and which may enable me to pass as your uncle. It is the maiden name of your deceased mother—that of Forsyth.” I said not a word in reply to this announce- ment; for I could not help thinking that for a variety of reasons it was a prudential resolve to which my father had just come. By this time we had made the circuit of the ornamental water— we had left St. James’s Park and were walking in the Green Park. We were therefore in the neigh- bourhood of Piccadilly; and my father said to me, T have kept you long enough, Ellen, away from your home on the present occasion ; and you must return thither. To-morrow, as I have already intimated, we will call together upon Mr, Parks ne “For many reasons, my dear father,” I inter- rupted him, “ I would sooner avoid that man and that house.” | “Oh! I have not forgotten, Ellen,” he ex- claimed, “ what you told me at Hambledon on that memorable occasion when I announced myself as your father. The villain Parks had used threaten- ing language to you—he had sought likewise to accomplish your dishonour by handing you over into the power of this still greater. villain St. Clair ; and, Oh! I long to punish Both for their misdeeds. But the punishment of the wretch Parks is perhaps nearer at hand than you may suppose. It is necessary, my dear girl, that you should do some little violence to your feelings by accompanying me into his presence to-morrow,— inasmuch as you will have to corroborate much that I myself shall have to proclaim.” My father then made an appointment for our meeting on the morrow: he put me into a cab in Piccadilly ; and we separated. I reached Hunter Street in safety—reflecting the whole time upon everything that had taken place between my father and myself,—wondering what course he would pursue in respect to Lord Frederick -Ra- venscliffe— and also wondering what would be the result of his intended visit to Mr. Parks. On the following day, punctually at eleven o’clock, I entered the fashionable West End square in which Mr. Parks resided; and I was immediately joined by my father, according to the appointment made on the preceding evening. “ Sustain your courage, my dear Ellen,” he said: “be not intimidated by anything that Parks may hold out in the shape of menace. He will fancy that he knows the point in which our cause is weak—I mean the fear of exposure: but we must deal with him as if we ourselves had already made up our minds in that. respect, and as if we were determined to make any sacrifice in order to ob- tain possession of that whereof he has defrauded ou,” ‘ By the time my father had finished giving these instructions, we reached the lawyer’s mansion We did not enter by the door communicating with the clerks’ office, and which was distinct from CONMIEOOO< CO