Ellen Percy; or, The Memoirs of an Actress — page 61: what you’re looking at

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48 an ete I A LL DLL ALLA, ON ELLEN PERCY; OR, THE MEMOIRS OF AN ACTRESS. said, “since you take so deep and generous an in- | own house, terest in your half-sister—she has resolved to em- brace the stage as a profession it “Ah!” said Herbert; “that was one point on which I was likewise desirous to speak to you! From her conversation at times I have gleaned that she had an inclination for the stage 4: “ And she will adopt it as a profession,” I re- joined. “If you wish it I will endeavour to dis- suade her-——in fact it is an idea which I have never encouraged ; for where one achieves success, there are so many failures although I must candidly inform your lordship that Mary has the talent ——” “Act as you will, Miss Percy! do precisely as you think fit!” interjected the Marquis of Dal- rymple. ‘And now I have detained you long enough: I renew the assurances of my gratitude for all the generous and kind things you have said to me—and believe me, Oh! believe me, the seed has not fallen upon barren ground !” Thus speaking with much genuine feeling, the Marquis wrung my hand and hastened from the room. Shortly afterwards I likewise took my departure from the lawyer’s office in Furnival’s Inn; and I returned to Great Ormond Street. During the dinner time I touched delicately and gently upon the forbidden topic, in order to ascer- tain whether I might venture to proceed and ex- plain to Mary Glentworth what had taken place: but she at once turned the conversation into an- other channel—not with rudeness nor unkindness, but still with a firmness which rendered it im- possible for me to give utterance to another syl- lable on the point. CHAPTER LXXVI. GILDEROY HEMP. Ir was about nine o’clock in the evening, three or four days after the incidents which I have been just relating, that I and Beda found ourselves plunging into the midst of a maze of wretched, narrow, ill-paved, ill-lighted streets or rather lanes and alleys somewhere in the district of Clerken- well. We were both dressed in our commonest costume, and had veils closely drawn over our countenances. Although it was in the month of May, yet the night was dark and stormy; and I had more than half selected it on account of its gloominess for the enterprise which I had in hand —because, as the reader may suppose, I was by no means anxious to stand the chance of being recognised in the low vile quarter into which I was now penetrating. To be brief, I was follow- ing a portion of the parting instructions which Zarah had given me,—that portion which so espe- cially regarded my own personal concerns. In reference to the name which was written on the scrap of paper that I had taken from the table. drawer in her chamber, she had said to me, “ Hesitate not to seek that man at his abode.” Therefore, after much deliberation with myself as well as with Beda, I had determined upon follow- ing Zarah’s instructions to the very letter— namely, by calling in person upon the man in- Beda knew nothing of him—she had never before heard his name; and she was there- fore unable to afford me the slightest idea of his character and disposition. But Zarah had assured me that he was prepared to go through fire and water to serve me; and I knew perfectly well that I might place the fullest reliance on the words she had thus spoken. I should add that in the forenoon of the day on which I had now re- solved to visit the man, I had sent Beda into the neighbourhood to ascertain the precise where- abouts of his abode, so as to avoid the necessity of inquiring our way or standirg the chance of losing it in the evening. It was, therefore, as I have said, at about nine o’clock that Beda and I were bending our steps thither. The gaslights were few and far between ; and they seemed to burn more dimly in this neigh- bourhood than anywhere else. Most of the shops were already closed; and even those that were still open, had merely a candle or two burning feebly inside, and which shed no light into the alleys and lanes themselves. There were not many persons abroad in those narrow thoroughfares : but from the public-houses, which were sprinkled pretty numerously about, issued the din of un: couth uproarious revelry, “ making night hideous.” “Ts it much farther, Beda?” I inquired in a low tone; for I feared lest my faithful guide must have lost herself amidst the maze of lanes and alleys into which we had already so deeply pene- trated. “It is here close at hand,” replied Beda. * You are not afraid, Miss?” she asked. © No—not afraid,” I responded: “but the sooner we reach our destination, the better; for if I happen to meet any one who may recognise me, even through the folds of this thick black veil, it would not be very agreeable <F Scarcely had I thus spoken, when the door of a public-house which we were passing at the instant was thrown suddenly open; ard a man issued forth. I at once recognised him: it was Black Ned, the gipsy who had been our gaoler at the ruined farm-buildings near Petersfield, and whom Beda and I had overpowered and bound when we effected our escape from our prison-chamber. He hurried past us, proceeding in the same direction as ourselves ; and he was quickly lost to our view in the obscurity which prevailed farther along the narrow street. “Do you know. who that was, BedaP”’ I in: quired, stopping suddenly short and clutching her by the arm: “ did you recognise him ?” ‘Yes, Miss,” she responded: “it was Black Ned. But he did not perceive us—or at least I think not.” “ Perhaps not,” I said: “but yet he may pro- bably be going to the same house which is our destination—and I should not like to fall in with him, I can assure you.” ‘And I have not the least apprehension in en- countering him,” rejoined Beda. “ Rest assured that Zarah’s promise may be thoroughly relied upon: Gilderoy will prove faithful—and he will protect you, Miss, from all harm.” “ But remember, Beda,” I resumed, still linger- ing in the street, “Black Ned can entertain no very favourable sentiments towards you and me; stead of sending for him to come to me at my | and perbaps he may be only too glad of an oppor- eee gg I A ET SL, (E(0) (E(@) .IOoOK