Ellen Percy; or, The Memoirs of an Actress — page 297: what you’re looking at

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

_—- -—_—_——_——_ _—- 284 half wild—half mad! Again did the bitter, taunting laugh of the vile Melissa ring in my ears; and she exclaimed, “Ah, Ellen! instead of standing there shivering in your night-dress by the side of this bed, you expected to be clasped all warm and glowing os I tarried to hear no more: I felt as if every word the wretch was uttering fell like a drop of poison on my soul !—as if her very breath infected the atmosphere and diffused contamination around me! It was with a half-shriek that I sprang away from the side of the couch. I snatched up my garments, which I had thrown upon a chair near the fire: and unlocking the door, I rushed from the room. Melissa’s voice called out some- thing after me: I gave no heed to it at the mo- ment—I sprang into the chamber which properly belonged to herself; and falling upon my knees by the side of the couch which was there, I burst into tears. Long and passionately I wept; for I considered this to be one of the most frightful afflictions that had ever befallen me—at all events it seemed to be second only to that former occasion when my character was well-nigh shipwrecked at River House. I mean when holding Juliet’s child in my arms, I was seen by Henry Wakefield. Yes, long and passionately I wept: perhaps for nearly half-an-hour I knelt by the side of that bed, sob- bing as if my heart would break. But at last I began to experience a relief in the very violence of that weeping: it afforded a vent which did me good. I rose up from my kneeling posture: I sat upon the couch and I reflected. By degrees, my mind grew stronger: the whole affair began to look less and less terrible the longer I envisaged it; and I thought to myself, “I was wrong to | yield to utter despair before I had in imagination exhausted every means of vindicating my cha- racter! There is one course that is open to me: I will appeal to Reginald Barron, through the medium of his mother and sister, to do me justice ! He cannot be utterly depraved—he cannot enter- tain so rancorous an hostility against me as to assist in ruining my reputation !” My resolve being thus adopted, my mind grew still calmer and calmer: and by the street- lamp which shed its rays in at the window, I smoothed my dishevelled hair before the looking- glass in the chamber. There was light enough to show me that I was very pale and that my eyes were rea with weeping. 1 bathed them, for they smarted; and then I lay down to rest,—having first assured myself however that I had locked the door. And now I began to recall to memory the words which Melissa had vociferated forth at the instant wher I was fleeing in horror and dismay from my own chamber. What were those words? “Why, this is the best part of it all! You are mad! It is as ridiculous as it is amusing!” These were the words to which she had given utterance, Has not the reader at times observed that something which passes almost entirely un- heeded in the exciting moment of its occurrence, may subsequently be recalled with the most critical accuracy? It was so in this instance. Yes— those were the words which the tongue of Melissa had sent pealing after me—of which I had taken no heed at the moment—but which I now recol- lected and repeated likewise with the conviction _—_— OO Cr TC rw ecen_ ELLEN PERCY; OR, THE MEMOIRS OF AN ACTRESS. that they were precisely those which had beer uttered. Again and again did I ask myself what their meaning could be? I could conjecture no- thing—unless it were that the vile young woman was expressing her triumph in being left to the usurped enjoyment of my comfortable chamber. Sleep at length stole upon my eyes: but as I gradually awoke at an early hour in the morning, it was with a sense of tightness across the brain, and an inward sinking, so to speak—the sure indi- cations of a recent period of powerfully wrought emotions having been passed through. It required but a very few instants to recall to mind all the circumstances which had so terribly harassed me, I started up in the bed, and looked at my watch. It was then half-past six o’clock in the morning. The heavens were still dark—it was by the glare of the gaslight that I was enabled thus to ascer- tain the time. I was about to lie down again, when methought that I heard the sounds of voices somewhere near. I listened. Yes!—there were assuredly voices speaking in a low hurried tone. Ah! and there were footsteps too! These were in the adjoining room,—not the sitting-apartment, but the bed-chamber !—my bed-chamber, which I had been forced to abandon to the usurping pos- session of Melissa Harrison! I continued to listen with suspended breath. The partition, be it recollected, was very slight: and to my illimitable surprise I caught the sound of a masculine voice— though it was speaking in too low a tone for me to recognise if, much less to comprehend the sense of what it was saying. Yes—it was a man’s voice! But dared I conjecture whose it was ?—and if so, what a new and startling phase did it seem to be developing in the history of the last few _ hours! Still I listened—yes, listened with suspended breath! I now heard a sound as of a window opening,—but opening so gently that it was ail but noiseless and would fail to be perceived by any one unless the faculties and senses were by circumstances inspired with so vivid a keenness as that which now characterized mine. In a few moments I could not any longer doubt that what I suspected was actually taking place, and that a window was being opened. What could it mean P Oh! this incident, coupled with the sound of a man’s voice in the adjacent chamber, seemed to tell a tale which was only too easily understood ! I now glided from the bed, and I approached the window of the little chamber where I found myself. It fortunately happened that this wasa species of bow-window; for it looked upon the top of the huge portico of the hotel. There was con: sequently a view to be obtained sideways; and the eye could sweep the street from one end to the other. This explanation will show how I was enabled to observe what was taking place, and which I am about to describe. The form of a man was descending from the window of the adjacent room. He was dressed in black: he was tall: and now as his countenance was upturned towards that window, I reccgnised Reginald Barron. At this I was not surprised: my mind was already prepared for such a dis- covery. He was lowering himself by means of a blanket, or coverlid, twisted round into the form of arope. The window was not very high from the pavement: there was another window immee JOO) CCIM @ CS (E(O)