The Mysteries of the Court of London Vol. 7 — page 89: what you’re looking at

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

ng ae a cae a Ga GE, i “ % , of Exeter Hall consternation, of select committee @ &e Se zke a ee | 76 the cavern-like depths of Mr. White {boker’s throat, Bhe paused for a few minutes, during which she seemed to be sobbing bitterly; while the saint rocked himself to and fro, groaning egph time he went backward, and whining each time he wept forward: so that what with the alternations of the groan and the whine he made as sweet a musio as ever emanated from the haman throat. * Tivee years have clapsed since that fatal mar- riage,” proceeded Linds, in a low and mournful voice: “ but only for one year did I live with that man. He treated me cruelly—he beat me-———Oh ! you have no idea of his dreadfal violence—the in- furiate gusts of passigcn——~” Another terrific groan escaped from Mr. White Choker’s lips: his countenance was ghastly—be quivered and shivered in every limb. Visions of horse-whips and horse-pistols, of writs for crim. con., of tribunals filled with big-wigs, of heavy damages, of columns of standal in the newspaper of inquiry, whirled around him as if Patitora’s box had just been opened under hiz very nose all the evils it contained were about co settle upon bim like the plague of locusts. And amidst them all was the hideous oduntenance of Saufflenoes, bis great rival and arch-enemy in the sphere of saint- dom, grinning maliciously at him. Unhappy Mr. White Choker! what was he to doP “Yes,” continued Linda, “at the expiration of a year I was compelled to leave that drekdful man and I returned to my parents. He followed me —he told them euch that they would not be- lieve otherwise than that I myself was in fault, and that he himeclf was an l of goodness, kindness, and virtue. They insisted that I should return to him; and in order to avoid such a dread- ful fate, I fied from home, I came to England, and obtained a situation as gdverness in a highly re- spectable family: but my hasband found me out and I was compelled to fy once more. I went to Paris, where I obtained another situation ; and it was during one of Madame Angelique’s temporary visita to the French capital thet I happened to fall in with her. I believed her to be « highly re- spectable lady; and ahe me if ever I re- turned to London, to favour her with a call. I promised that I would. My husband came to Paris: I heard persons speakingsof him—I learnt that he was ruined—that he eading a terribly wild lifes I hoped therefore tha@baring no longer for me, be might desist fromf his persecutions. But no such thing. He found me out—he insisted upon my returning to atid agsin was I com- to fly. “And what did you do then,,my poor dear Linda P” asked Mr. White Ohoker, with another deep | ious groan. “ Believing that my husband’s debts rendered it unlikely that he would revisit England, I sped back to London, where I soon obtained another situation as governess, But my eril geniue haunted me. A few weeks ago my husband re- appeared g and again was I compelled to fies from a y home. I was reduced to despair ; and in an evil hour I encountered Madame Angelique. She invited me to her house—I went—ite true ghagacter soon became knuwn to me—she intro- dused a gentleman-——and—and—from necessity it a THR MYSTERIES OF THE COURT. I fell. I saw no one else until I eame under your tection.” “And that one gentleman,” said Mr. White Choker, shaking his head solemnly : “ who is he ? Some dashing young spark-——~—-""_¢ : “ No—an elderly gentleman,” responded Linda: “and I did hear it whispered thet be was some high dignitary of the Church.” ° “Ah! then, my dear, there was no harm—no harm at all,” said Mr. White Choker. “The sanctity of an individual glosses over any little failing. But about this terrible husband of your's —-——Dear me! dear me! if I had known all this——” “Ah! it is the idea of that husband of mine which roakes me wretched!” moaned Linda. “* And you are almost sure that he will find you out—are you not, my dear girl?” inquired Mr. White Choker, quivering from head to foot. “Let us hope not,” responded Linda, suffering her countenance to assume a more cheerful aspect. You will not desert me on that account —— Ohl tell me that you will not desert me ?” But foarcely were the words spoken, when a terrific knock at the front door thundered through the house—th@ bell at the same time rang as franctically as if pulled ty a lunatic just escaped out of Bedlan—and Mr. White Choker felt as af ke were shrivelling up into nothing. But the next instant a thought struck this saint-like man: the instinct of self-preservation asserted all ita power within him: ea luminous notion inspired him. “ My dear girl—my dear sweet Linda,” he said, “listen to me attentively. Look as pious, as holy, and as contrite as you can. Verily, we must clothe ourselves with the raiment of hypocrisy as the only armour wherewith to defend ourselves against him who cometh like a roaring lion seek- ing whom he may devour. Ah! I hear his foot. steps! Perdition and the devil take him. But no, n0—that is not what I meant !” Quick as lightning Mr. White Ohoker acud across the room as if a mad dog were at his heels; and partially opening the door, he flew back to his seat. Then he began to address Linda in a strain which for the first few instants filled her with a perfect astoundment. “My dear sister in the good cause,” said the saint, with the most approved commingling of snuffe and whine, whimper and snivel,—“ yea, verily, We arcall sinful creatures—we are all shegp that have strayed from the pasture. It is good, my sister, thet I who am a man krfown in the tabernacles of the pious, and reputed to be a savoury vessel against which no scandal has ever dared breathe a whisper, should in this true brotherly fashion visit you from time to time. I¢ is aweet, my sister, that we should sing hymns together; and anon I will expound unto you that text concerning which we were speaking just the aheep of our fold; and you, my sister, will feel your soul refreshed by an attentive listening unto my discourse. Ahk! my sweet sister, it is pleasant to escape from the vanities of this wicked world—to buckle on the armour of teath-——” “By heaven! i¢ must be precious stout armour that will prevent me from lecerating your preciods hide in such a way that your own mother shall not know you f” e . now. Well pleased am I to reckon you amongst ' COLUM LOAO© SS (CO)