The Mysteries of London, Vol. IV — page 371: what you’re looking at

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

ens eee gee 6 0 oe eee enone gavo mo for sis hundred pounds, | altered in such a way as to mako it represent sixty thousand; and I yesterday obtained the amount from the bankers. If you present your cheque, 1 shall be ruined ; and therefore I propose a compromise.” “ And by way of opening the negociation, you level menaces at my head,” said Laura, who, though at firststartled by the announcement of the tremendous fraud perpetrated by her mother, had speedily reco- vered her self-possession. “What, then, is rour decision?’ asked the old woiran, trembling from head to foot, and no longer able to conceal the horrible fears that had come upon her: for she began to fancy that her daughter would not yield even to the threats that had beep used to coerce her. “ What is your decision, I repeat?” “To refuse all compromise—to accept the gaunt- Jet which you threw down at first, and which you would now gladly take back again—to place myself ina condition of open hostility to you!” answerod Laura, her countenance growing stern and pale, and her lips quivering slightly. “But it will bo transportation for us both,” ex- claimed Mrs. Mortimer: “I for forgery—you for bigamy {” “Permit me to give you my view of the case,” said Laura. “I hold acheque for sixty thousand pounds, which I shall present to-morrow; and the mioney must bo paid to me. The bankers will bo the sufferers by the forzers—not J, nor tho Mar- quis of Delmour. This disposes of one part of the question. For the rest, I havo only to obserro that even if I were tried and convicted for bigamy, 2 fortune of sixty thousand pounds would bo no mean consolation during, perhaps, imprisonment for tio years or transportation for seven. JI am not, however, s0 sure that any prosecution ef tho kind vill take place, be you never s0 vindictive: for I question whether you will have the courage to open your lips to accuse me of bigamy, seeing that it would not only be forgery with which I shonld charge you—but murder?” “ Murder !” repeated the old woman, half in indip- nation and half in terror: “ what mean you f’ “YT mean that Mr. Torrens, your husband, zee with @ violent death,” answered Laura,—“ that you yourself gave mo this information—and that you came over to London to be revenged upon hin for his conduct of former times! Now, mother,” she exclaimed, her countenance suddenly becoming radiant with triumph,—‘ now will vou dare to repeat your menaces against me?” The old woman staggered back a few paces, and sank into a chair, The tables liad been completels turned against her: she had come to conquer—and sho must depart conquered ;—she had sought out Laura in the hope of reducing her to submission— she was herself now crushed and overwhelmed. There was something shocking in the mortal enmity which had thus sprung up between the mother and daughter,—the former threatening transportation—tho latter poirting to the gibbet looming in the distance ! “But you know—you know, in your own heart, that I did not take the life of Torrens?’ suddenly ejaculated the old woman, starting from her seat. “T know nothing more than what you yourself told inv, mother,” said Laura; “and if the matter sould happen to go before the magistrate for ine vestigation, I shall only state what Ido Inow—nnd — 266 THD MYSTERIES OF LONDON. _— shall not assist’ your cause with any conjecture | relative to your innocence.” : “And would you send me to the scaffold?” de- | manded the wretched woman, her voice becoming | plaintive and mournful: “ wonld you place me in such 2 position that I must inevitabiy eink beneath a mass of circumstantial evidence, and be con- demned asa murderess ?” Would you send rour own child into transpor- tation, the horrors of which you yourself hare ex- perienced 2?” asked Laura, bitterly. “Oh! my God—this is 2-punishment for all my crimes!” exclaimed the miserable Mrs. Mortimer, a pang of remorse suddenly shooting through her heart like a barbed and fiery arrow. “Yon should have calculated all the conse- quences bofore you came hither to menace me,” ob- served Laura, stillin acofd and severe tonc—a tone that was unpitving and merciless. “Can nothing movo you?” asked the wretched woman, now completely subdued and cast down— overwhelmed and spirit-broken. “Nothing!’ responded Laura, sternly. “ You may do your worst—I fear you not; and henccforth Tacknowledge you not as my mother 1” Saturated with crimes—stceped in profligacy as tho old woman’s soul was, nevertheless this sudden | renunciation of her by her own daughter went like a death-pang toher heart. She fell back ayain into tho seat from which sho had started a few minutes previously—a deadly pallor camo over her counte- nance, rendering it hideous and ghastly as if tho finger of the Destroyer were upon her—and her breath came in long and difficalt sobs. But her daughter stood gazing unmoved on this pitecous spectacle,—stood liko an aronging goddess, in her white robes, as if about to immolato her vic- tim upon an altar! “Give me a glass of water, aura—for the love of God, a glass of water!” gasped the old woman at length, as she extended her arms pitcously to- wards the relentless being, whoso heart, so voluptu- ously tender beneath the influence of love, was hard as adamant against the appeals of ber parent. “ Nothing—no, not cven a drop of water, nor a crust of bread shall yon reccive beneath my roof,” was the unpitying, remorsoless answer. “Then my curse be upon you—my curse bo upon your dwelling, and all whom it contains !” cried the old woman, suddenly recovering her own energy and firmness—for the last words of her daughter had goaded her to desperation. “The curses of fiends turn to blessings,” said Laura, in a calm and deliberate voice. “But a mother’s curse is a terrible—terrible thing !” exclaimed Mrs. Mortimer, fixing her hag- gard cyes intently upon her daughter, who returned the gaze with looks of proud disdain and haughty defiance. The old woman then rose slowly from her seat, and as slowly walked towards the door; on reatfi- ing which she turned round, and gaid, “Is there no way of restoring peace between us?” None,” was the resolute and laconic answer Mrs. Mortimer hesitated yet for a fow moments; then, as if suddenly embracing a desperate resolve, or struck by some terrible idca of vengeance, she abruptly quitted tho room. Laura listened, with suspended breath, to hear whether there was any ono in the hall for her mother to speak to; but her apprehensions on this EConnicloooks (SO)