The Mysteries of the Court of London Vol. 7 — page 293: what you’re looking at

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

e 260 everything? The wretch, to have perpetrated forgery !” Anuther quick revulsion took place in the Duke of Marehmont’s feelings: the momentary idea of eafety flitted away; and as he thought of Army- tage a horrible sense of danger agaia smote bim. That the ruined speculator was entirely in Cole- roan’s power, was but too evident; thet the lawyer would use this power, the Duke felt fright- fully convinced. He was now ones more goaded to utter desperation: he rose from his séat: white as « corpse—heggard and ghastly—he paced to and froin the room. He thought of flight—end be thought of suicide; but he dreaded adopting the former course be should only be pre- cipitating hw own utter downfell, and throwing away the lest chance of escape :—while in respect | been to suicide, he bad not the moral Suddenly an idea struck him. It'was an idea that arose from ration’s delf: but no sooner had it entered his brain, than ‘be ‘clutched at it greedily. Ringing the bell, he: ordered the, to give him his bill and call a cab. On ontyr- ing the vehicle he said to the ‘driver, “To New. ate {” . Away sped the cab; and it was followed by another, containing the lafyer’s clerk who had been appointed to watch bin. : for Mr. Price was keen and shrewd, and was not likely to disobey nor neglect his master’s mandates. In twenty minutes the cab which bore the Duke, drew up in front of Newgate; end his Grace alighting, knocked at the door of the Governor’s house. Oa giving his name, he was at once ushered into’ a room, where the Governor received him with mingled sympathy and respect. rie This is a dreadful thing, my lord,” eaid the prison functionary, who was by no means asto- nished to see Marchmont looking eo pale, haggard, and agitated: “but it is'an event for which your Grace must have been for long yeare more or less prepared, as it might have happened at any mo- ment—altholigh, I believe, your Grace fancied your brother to be dead “I come to see that unhappy brother of mine,” interrupted the Duke. “Show me to his cell— and let me be alone with him.” 1¢ was contrary to the gaol regulations to admit visitors to prisonere at that late hour in the even- ing; but on behalf of a Duke all such restrictions were readily set aside. The Governor thecefore at once obeyed with alacrity; and he conducted Marchmont along the gloomy corridors towards the cell which Lord Olandon now tenanted. The massive door swung upon ite hinges: a single candle was burning inside; and by the dim light Lord Clandon was discovered sleeping on the humble pallet. Yes—he was eleeping after the exhausting circumstances of the day; and he slept serenely too, with no convulsing startse—with no tossing nor heaving on ‘the bolster—with no fling- ing ebout of the arme The Governor closed the door, without bolting it,—having intimated to his Grace that he would wait at the extremity of the Dake of Marchmont stood by the side of looking down upon the sleeping coun- the tegamce: of his brother. That brother was sleep- | lng, ae-we bave said, serenely ; and the Duke mur- wured.to himself, “ Would to heaven that I could THES MYSTERING OF TES COURT. clumber like him !— Bertram!” and he placed his hand his brother's shoulder. Clandon opened his eyes; and on behold ing the Duke he slightly for an instante then. rising from the. he said coldly, “ Whas sbek you with meP” - ° “Bertram, how can you ask this question” exclaimed the Duke, adopting.a reproachful look and tone. “Am I not your brovher P” “T have no brother,” replied Lord Olandons and for a moment his chest heaved as if with a convulsing sob. “ No—I have not a brother! I[ had once a brother, whom I loved dearly and de- lest by | votedly; but—but-—that time has loug paned— and for nineteen years,” added his eyes significantly upon the Duke, ere has no one in the world whom I could @all my brother |’ “Bertram, your brain is turned,” said March mont. “Pray listen tome! Gold doubtless can ydur escape—I will lavish it by thousands }, fixing procure walter }—by hundreds of thousands, if needful ——" ‘No more!” ejaculated Bertram, in a per- emptory téne. “If all the doors stood open, and no one barred my egress I would not go hence! My destiny shall be fulfilled. I know what it is: I believe in God—I have faith in His justice! And now enough! Leave me!” “ No, no—I cannot leave you thus!" cried tl Dake of Marchmont, easily converting his rea’ itation into a semblance of profound grief. “What horrible thoughts, Bertram, have you in your head P—-why is your conduct thus uanatural towards me?f—why did you appear before me at Oaklands, to scare me with the idea that I behela ove from the dead? Oh! you must escape—you must fy hence—you must betake yourself to some foreign country! Ali my fortune is at your dis- posal--1. will beggar myself to ensure your welfare {” “Leave me, I say!” answered Bertram, who was evidently struggling with violent internal émotions: “leave me, I insist!” The Duke was bewildered how to act. There was @ moment wh¥n he was about to fall upon his kness—to entreat—to implore—to give utterance to all the wild things which were agitating in his brain: but yet he dared not. He agsin looked at his brother: the prisoner’s countenance now was cold, stern, and implacable; and as Marchmont hesitated what to do, Lord Olandon extended his &rm towards the door, exclaiming, “Begone! I know you not as a.brother.” it seemed to be by a sort of mechanical involun- tary process that the Duke of Marchmont obeyed the mandate and slunk away from Bertram’s pre- sence. The Governor came hastily along the stone corridor to turn the massive key and fasten the heavy bolts which secured in his cell that captive who, nevertheless, would not have issued, forth if every door of the prison had stood open. “I hope, my lord,” said the Governor, in « low sympathising voice, “that your unfortunate brother was grateful for this visit P” “Do not question me |” replied the Duke peta- lantly. “Which is the way out ?”—for the very of that prison seemed horribly op- pressive to the wretched Marchmont. © “This @ay, my lord,” said the Governor. “ I6 was towards one of the condemned cells that your Grace was hastening —-——" ECOMRniclacae SS (CO)