Ellen Percy; or, The Memoirs of an Actress — page 184: what you’re looking at

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

ELLEN PERCY; OB, THE MEMOIRS OF AN ACTRESS. 171 black hair shining with a rich gloss, and curling naturally. His whiskers were trimmed with pre- cision; and the two sable lines of a small mous- tache, pointed and slightly curled at the corners of the mouth, threw out in vivid contrast the vermi- lion of his lips as well as his pearly teeth. He was elegantly dressed, and had an unmistakable air of distinction about him. He rose from his seat to bow to me with the habitual politeness of a foreigner, while Beatrice hastening forward, clasped my hands with the wonted fervour of friendliest pressure. Then for an instant there supervened a slight embarrass- ment in her manner—the colour went and came on her beautiful cheeks—she glanced towards her companion—she again bent her eyes upon me— and suddenly recovering a complete self-possession, she said, “ Allow me to introduce to you Signor Ludovico Marano.” I started at that name of Marano:—and well I might! Well also might Beatrice for a few) mo- ments have felt a conflict of strange emotions within her, as she presented the foreigner! For Marano was the name of the young Italian officer whom she had so sincerely and devotedly loved— whom she had seen so foully murdered before her eyes—and whom she had beheld suspended, by the diabolical vengeance of her husband, to the ceiling of that apartment in which she was kept for several morisl days in hideous captivity ! Who, then, was this Ludovico Marano? Must he not be a relation of the perished Angelo ? Such were the questions which I rapidly asked myself; and Beatrice, perceiving the start which I gave—no doubt observing likewise that the colour now went and came upon my own cheeks—took my hand once more; and pressing it with a species of spasmodic violence, said in a low voice, “‘ Ludovico is the cousin of the unfortunate Angelo !” The Italian understood what was thus said; for he at once observed in tolerably good English, “We were speaking of you, Miss Percy, at the very moment when your name was announced; and the Countess was telling me that you are ac- quainted with all the secrets of her life,—and what is more, she told me how immense are the obli- gations under which she lies towards you.” “ Yes,”’ interrupted the Countess, with a tone and look of deep feeling; “it was through my dearest friend Ellen, that my complete innocence was brought to light, and that I was reconciled to my sister and brother-in-law !” “Permit me,’ said Ludovico, in a most cour- teous manner, “to add the meed of my own grati- tude for the noble part which you played in convincing the Count of Carboni that his wife and my deceased cousin were innocent. I loved Angelo as if he were my brother: and his sudden dis- appearance from the theatre of the world caused me the deepest aflliction. I knew not how to ac- count for his disappearance: I knew not to whom I could address myself for information! Circum- stances brought me the other day to England— where indeed I have occasionally sojourned before. I yesterday met the Countess of Carboni, whom I had formerly had the honour of meeting in Florence: I requested permission to call upon her —and within the last hour she has revealed to me the whole frightful narrative which is only too well known to you.” We sat down; and Beatrice said, after a pause, “T wish to speak to you, dear Ellen, in reference to the miscreant Luigi.” “And I also was desirous of having some serious discourse with you, Beatrice, concerning that man.” “You may speak in the presence of Signor Marano,” said the Countess; “for he will natu- rally be only too glad to hear of the certainty of that doom which now awaits the wretch whose iniquities caused so monstrous and deplorable a tragedy !” | Yes!” ejaculated Ludovico Marano vehe- mently; “for as I have already told you, Miss Percy, I loved Angelo as if he were my brother— and it can be no unchristian feeling which induces me to proclaim my sincere hope that Luigi will not escape his righteous doom !” Though the Italian’s words were in one sense fraught with a meek deference to higher powers, yet was there a strong bitterness in their accents; and his dark eyes shot forth a bright vindictive fire. But all this seemed to me natural enough, considering what must be passing in his mind, and considering likewise that the hot Italian blood rolled in his veins. “TI do not think it is quite so certain,” I said, “that Luigi will be condemned to the extreme penalties of the law.” “ What!” ejaculated Beatrice, with a start of astonishment: “that wretch escape ?” “ By heaven, no!” exclaimed Ludovico Ma- rano, also with a start, but even still more vehe- ment than that which the Countess had given. “Tf he were to escape his righteous doom,” added Beatrice, “I shouid say that there was no justice in heaven !” * And I should proclaim,” cried Marano, ‘that your English tribunals, the rectitude of which is so much vaunted, were utterly deficient in the sterling principles of justice in a_ retributive sense !”’ “ Wherein exists your doubt?” inquired Bea- trice. “T will tell you,’ I said, finding myself at length able to thrust in a word after the ejaca: latory expressions in which the astonishment aud indignation of the Countess and Ludovico had found a vent. “ You know, Beatrice, that in re- spect to the dreadful scene upon the cliffs, you and I can only give but the vaguest testimony}; and we must not suffer our feelings or our preju- dices to urge us on to the utterance of a word in addition to the statement that we gave to the authorities at Dover. Upon such evidence as this no English tribunal will condemn Luigi.” “ All this I had foreseen,” ejaculated the Coun- tess. “I was ere now telling the same to Signor Marano “Yes,” interjected Ludovico; “but there is the other case, which is sufficiently positive—thse throwing of the vitriol at the English lady, Mrs, St. Clair . “Certainly!” said Beatrice: “she died from the effects of the outrage—and the murderer will be condemned to death!” “ Now, it is precisely on this point,’ I said, “that I have been most seriously reflecting, and that I wish to hold discourse with you, my dear Beatrice. There are certain facts and circum. Gomichboo (ECO)