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Penny Dreadfuls, 1846 · page 18 of 399

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The Mysteries of London, Vol. IV — page 18: Penny Dreadfuls, 1846

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TILE AXYSTLRIES OF LONDON. she said, in a voice broken by deep sobs; ‘and it is enly very lately that I have had my eyes opened to my sinful life. The dark gentleman, who I suppose is the master here, has done this good thing for me: and now he ts going to provide for me and my husband. But I shall not go away happy, unless J tell him every thing that weighson my soul.—I spoke a few words of comfort to her; and in afew minutes she con- fessed that the lad who bore the name of Jacob Smith is her own son, born while she was the mis- tress of Old Death, and before her marriage with Bunce. [informed her that Jacob was well provided for and happy; and she seemed deeply grateful for this assurance. Thon I recommended her not to reveal this secret to her husband when they should be united again; inasmuch as, haying entered on a new phase of existence together, it would be useless and wrong to acquaint him with a fact calctlated only to disturb that harmony. She promised to follow my advice, and appeared much eased in mind by having unbosomed her secret to me.” ‘You gave her most excellent counsel, doctor,” said the Black: then, after a few moments’ reflec- tion, he added, “Jacob ought not to bo informed of this secret of his hideous parentage-—at least not for the present.” “By no means !” exclaimed the physician. “His mind is tranquil—he feels a certain confidence in himseif—and your friendship is his greatest delight, Let not that salutary equanimity bo disturbed.” *“No—it would be wrong and useless,” said the Black, musing. ‘I remember that in the course of the long narrative which he gave me of his life, he mentioned the occasional scintillations of kindness which marked the conduct of Mrs. Bunce towards him. Ialso recollect that he observed to me how there were moments when he thought a preat deal of any pentle words which she cver uttered to him, or any kind treatment she ever showed him.” “Nature, my dear friend—Nature!” exclaimed the good physician. “ Even in a woman so bad as she was at the time of which he spoke, there were certain natural yearnings which she could not alto- gether subdue; while, on his part, thero oxisted filial inclinations and tendencies which he could not understand. How much that villain Benjamin Bones has to answer for!” * Alas—alas! I fear that he is beyond redemp- tion!” cried the Black, bitterly. “ But—no,” he added immediately afterwards, in a changed and _ moro decided tone: “we must not despair ! ” “YT am now anxiously waiting to hear your report concerning him,” observed Lascelles. “Ho is still in darkness—Ais night still continucs,” was the answer. “A month has elapsed since I visited him for the first time in his dungeon; and during the other four weeks that havo subsequently passed, I have had several interviews with him in the same manner. These interviews have taken place in the utter obscurity of his cell; and I have been constrained, though with pain and difficulty, to assume a feigned tone on each of those occasions, At my first visit he declared, in terror and amaze- ment, that he recognised in my voice something which reminded him of that of Thomas Rainford ; and then he seemed to be impressed with the con- viction that I was tho Earl of Ellingham. Hisrage against the Earl was deep and terrible; and I saw too plainly that if he relapsed into a milder tone, it Into tears. Ihave been wicked—very wicked, sir, | Was but to deccive me as to tho real State of his 1] mind, and induce me to grant him some indulgences —if not his freedom. I visited him again on the fol- lowing night; and he spoke less savagely, and more meekly: but I mistrusted him—yes, I mistrusted him, and I fear with good grounds. I cannot give you 4 very satisfactory description of our subsequent meotings. Atone moment he has appeared touched by my language, and has even expressed penitenco and contrition for the past: at the next moment, he has exhibited all the natural ferocity of his disposi- tion. Somctimes ho has assumed acoaxing manner, and has endearoured to move me to grant him a light ;—but I have hitherto refused. Ono thing I must not forget to mention—which is that never since the first visit I paid him has he onco alluded to the impression made upon him by the sounds of my voice; and never has he again addressed mo as Lord Ellingham. In moments of excitement or rage, he has demanded in a wild and almost frantic tone who Iam: but seldom waiting for tho reply, ho has relapsed cither into 2 humour of stubborn taciturnity, or of a meekness which I knew to be assumed, Indeed, there are many points in his cha- .racter and conduct, since lice has been an inmate of the dungeon, which I cannot comprehend. It is however certain that darkness has not produced on him the same rapid and important effects as upon the other five: something more severe in tho shapo of punishment, or something better calculated to touch his heart and appeal to his feelings, is requi- site. Ac the samo time, I believe him to be already moved and shaken in his obduracy to a certain de-« greo: but reformation in respect to him must be a work of timo.” “On the whole, you have hopes ?” said the physi- cian, interropatively,. Yes—when I call to memory all the particulars of lhiis conduct and language from the first occasion of my visits until the last, which took place yester- day, I can recognise a change,” answered the Black. “ Indeed, J am almost convinced that if it were pos- sible for me to speak to him at very great length— to argue with him on the folly and wickedness of his past life—to reason with him unrestrainedly, I should be able to move him deeply. But the neces- sity of maintaining an assumed tone, and the im- possibility of taking a light with me so as to watch the changings and workings of his countenance and follow up those appeals or those arguments which appear to have most effect with him,—in a word, the disguise I am compelled to sustain and the pre- cautions [ am forced to adopt, militate considerably against my system in respect to him.” “It would be imprudent for ae to visit him on your behalf,” observed the physician. “On that memorable night when Lord Ellingham had him, Tidmarsh, and Mrs. Bunce,in his powerin anadjacent room, and wrested from them all tho secrets of their damuable plots and schemes,—on that occasion, you know, I was present; and Old Death would there- fore cherish only rancorous feelings with regard to me,” “True,” said the Black, musing: then, suddenly starting from a deep reverie of a few minutes, ho exclaimed, “ Doctor, I have thought of a plan which T hope and trust, for the honour of human nature, may prove efficacious in respect to that obdurate sinner: but I hesitate—yes, I hesitate to put it into execution |” a (C(O) (C DOO <S LL (SO)