Ellen Percy; or, The Memoirs of an Actress — page 227: what you’re looking at

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

* ee a ———————EEEee* eee _ ee 9 0 cer ungensees~ sens 214 ELLEN PERCY; OR, THE MEMOIRS OF AN ACTRESS. I was frightened lest your turn to triumph would come, and that the day of retribution would arrive for myself. I partially revealed my fears to my wife: we deliberated—and we decided upon flying to a foreign country. I had some debts, which I could however have easily paid out of the money that I possessed; but I thought that this was useless, as it would only diminish the capital I should have to take with me. Therefore we re- solved to decamp secretly; and for this reason we did not sell off the furniture and take those measures which would have shown that we were breaking up our establishment. This was our plan—to depart suddenly some fine morning, with all the plate and valuables, and such things as could be packed up in a moment—and of course with the money which was to be sold out of the funds. Our arrangements were thus definitively settled. I should observe that our daughter Jane was on a visit to some friends in Paris; and we wrote to her to come over to us at once, without however stating for what reason. All the other children were at their different schools; and we sent for them, under pretence of being present at a grand juyenile entertainment which we pur- posed to give. And now mark well the facts which I am about to explain! When everything seemed ready for the carrying-out of the enter- prise, [ obtained a number of Bank transfer- papers in order to fillup the requisite forms for the sale of the funded stocks which I possessed. I suppose, judging by dates, I must have pre- pared and duly signed those papers on the 8th of May. I remember that for the next two or three days I was anxiously awaiting the arrival of Jane, and I did not think it prudent to sell out the money until she should be with us. In other words, I was deferring this last important step until we were altogether ready for depar- ture, for fear lest the circumstance should get abroad, and my creditors suspecting my purpose to decamp, should suddenly pounce upon me and thrust me into prison. This delay was fatal to me. In the evening of the 11th of May, that old woman—you know whom I mean—she is generally known as Dame Betty—called and said that I must accompany her as she had business of a most important character to consult me upon, or else some secret to communicate—I now forget the exact excuse that was made. You are aware, Miss Perey—for it transpired at what may be termed the trial, and therefore why should I attempt to conceal itP—you are aware, I repeat, that this old woman and I once had certain deal- ings together, and therefore I did not for a mo- ment imagine that she meant to do me a mischiei. I accompanied her—she took me to Gilderoy’s establishment—and there I found myself a pri- soner. I need not remind you of what followed; for, as I subsequently learnt, you and your servant Beda were concealed the whole time behind a curtain in the spacious room ” ** And who tole you this ?” I inquired. “T will tell you presently, Miss Percy,” re- sponded Parks. ‘ To pursue the thread of my ex- planations in a continuous manner, I must remind you that when the trial was over, the gipsy guards conducted me away from the room, I was plunged into a cellar—or I may more properly cail it a dungeon: for the guards assured me that it was absolutely necessary I should remain in closest custody until Gilderoy gave the mandate for my release. A lantern was left with me—sufficient provisions were likewise furnished; but the door was fast locked and bolted, and I was as much a prisoner there as if I had been within the walls of Newgate. You may suppose, Miss Percy, that my thoughts were not very pleasant: but I pass over all this—for if my reflections had been fraught with anguish while I was pondering on the loss of the fortune I had possessed, what must my mental horror have been as the conviction gradually dawned in upon me that the premises were on fire? Miss Percy, if [ were endowed with all the eloquence and all the powers of language that ever belonged to the most accomplished orators and writers, I could not do justice to all that I then felt. No!—it is impossible for words to describe the agony of mind—the appalling horror which I endured! First of all it was the smell of fire which came upon me: then the cries of wild alarm which were raised smote my ears; and I could no longer endeavour to persuade myself that it was a mere delusion. And full soon the sound of the raging element itself reached me, even in that deep subterranean,—that gushing noise which al- ways accompanies fire—sweeping and roaring and rushing onward like the wind itself! I flung my- self against the Goor—I beat it with all my force —I shouted for assistance—and then I gave vent to the most piteous cries. Again I say that no language can possibly convey an idea of what I then felt. My brain seemed to be turning: the idea of perishing by the most horrible of deaths would have been sufficient to make intellects of even a stronger order than mine reel upon their seat! And then the din of falling masonry—the sounds of cross-beams giving way —joists and rafters snapping, breaking, and crashing, — all these evidences served to prove that the confla- gration was gaining ground and that it was im- mense. But was I forgotten? was no one coming to deliver me ? was I to be abandoned to the most hideous of deaths? The thought was insanity itself. Again and again did I dash my form against the door: I eyen sought in my madness and desperation to claw down the very masonry with my nails until at length consciousnees utterly abandoned me !” Here Mr. Parks paused, shuddering visibly as he recalled to mind the incidents of that horrible night; and I felt assured that he was in no sense exaggerating them. ‘When I slowly began to recover my senses,” he presently resumed, “it seemed to me as if I were awaking out of a horrible dream. Total darkness environed me where I was. I stretched out my hands :—they encountered walls of solid masonry. A sense of the reality of all the hor- rible things that were floating in my mind, rapidly seized upon me; and, to be brief, in a few minutes I thoroughly comprehended my position. I was still in the dungeon, where the light had gone out. All was quiet : a dead silence prevailed. What had happened P—had the fire been extin- guished P had my terrors exaggerated its ravages at the time? and was it sufficiently insignificant to render it needless for those who held me in their custody to think of liberating me from that dungeon? Such was the conclusion to which I Gomiichdoo