The Mysteries of the Court of London Vol. 4 — page 229: what you’re looking at

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

Eee gees = —_ om: SS ee qq eas eS Ne oS ee eee ee ee ee ca cee Rs a SR eRe RS Se -_ —eee oe ee ee gg a AT er a ee PASTE CS ILS, CA LT v : 216 THE MYSTERIES OF THE COURT. in his seat; and as at that moment the dirty ser- vant-girl came to lay the cloth for his dinner, Theodore Varian availed himself of the oppor- tunity of the door being unlocked to quit the room. But oro he disappeared, he flung back one last look of the bitterest hate and direst malignity upon the wretched man whom his vengeance was thus consigning to eternal per- ition. ‘ Three days afterwards the bill came due, and was pronounced to be a forgery. Criminal proceedings were forthwith adopted, and Mr. Emmerson—the once opulent money-broker, and member of the Common Council—was transferred to Newgate. L c be CHAPTER CLXV. HOPES AND INTRIG?ZES IN FHE CONDEMNED CELL. TEN days aftorwards, the sessions commenced at the Old Bailey, and Emmerson was placed upon his trial, As the fallen man stood in the dock, he presented a piteous spectacle indeed to the vicw of those assembled. All vital colouring had left his countenance, which was hideous in its ghastliness, nnd the dread ex- pression of which was heightened by the un- natural fever-light that burnt in his wild, star- ing coyes. Most assuredly he did not then look like a man who was in much of a humotr to hold forth on ‘‘ our blessed Constitution,” “ our glorious laws,’ and “ our admirable social sys- tem.’’ On the contrary, he now found out to his cost that the constitution—if any there be at all—was the very source whence flowed the barbarous, the atrocious, and the sanguinary lawa which, in order to prep up the money- intererts of a vile social system, awarded the penalty of death to the man who committed a forgery. Such was the sentence passed upon Emmer- son now; and when, after a six hours’ trial— during which kh*‘s counsel had exercised all his eloquence and all his ingenuity to procure an acquittal—the prisoner was found guilty, and the judge from the bench pronounced his awful doom, then did the wretched man suddenly feel as if fronzy was seizing upon his brain, and he flung around him a look in which was expressed a direst anguish that the mortal heart could now. But, ah! what eye encounters his own, und suddenly rivets his attention? Standing ona bench behind the thickest of the crowd throng- ing the court stood Theodore Varian. He had not appeared as a witness on the trial, because his evidence was not neodod, the case being complcte enough without his intervention; but he had been, all the time, a spectator and a listener in the court—aye, and the most inte- rested of all spectators and all listeners. He had marked every varying expression of Em- mersou's countenance—every fluctuating emo- tion, whether of transitory hope or of utter desperation, that found expression there; and he had gloated over the poignant agonies of that wretched man. Now, tuo, in that crown- ing moment, when all the first tremendous inflacnce of the death-dooming judgment had fastened upon the prisoner’s soul, did Theodore Varian experience the consummation of hig infernal joy on me::ting the agonising, despairing look so wildly flung forth from the dock. a ae NN TS OE a a TT Te A a TT IE I POPES CERES TET oe SF ST SIG ES ED NT Aa IT IO! eT TNE EC A TE IG ICE POCO SRT TASS ASAI SSOP SC amr TG IN A TE OLD a ETT, The next moment a hand was laid upon Em- merson’s shoulder: he started—he turned me- chanically—and with a wildering co: fusion in his brain, stepped out of the dock. J+ was one of the turnkeys of Newgate who had thus beckoned him y; but Emmerson recollected him not. He now seemed to be walking in a dream—a sort of intoxication in Which ineffable horrors haunted him like shadowy phantoms whose reality was involved in misty doubt. There was a droning sound in his brain, and a ringing in his ears; his sight appeared to swim ; and so strange was the feeling in all his limbs that he could not tell whether or not they were joined on to his body, and whether they moved y his own volition or m&chanically of them- selves. In this horrible dreaminess he was led back into Newgate; and there, instead of being taken to the ward in which he had hitherto been in comyany with others, he was now con- signed to s cell in another part of the prison. Chains were put upon him—chains that were fastened to his ankles and round his waist,— and then he was left alone. Alone !—no, not alone; ‘for in the thoughts and recollections that came gushing back into his brain, dis- pelling the clouds which had been aanging oround, and bringing a horrible clearness with them—Oh! in these fearful memories and anguished,reflections there was a hideous com- panionship! For he was now in a condemned cell: he was a doomed man—and his days were numbered ! \ ' . It may be necessaty to remind our readers that up to the period of an accused person's condemnation, he is looked upon as innocent, and cnn therefore dispose of his property ac- cording to his pleasure; but the irstant a jury's verdict pronounces him gu&ty of nelonys what- ever he possesses instantaneously belongs to the Crown. The day before his trial Emmerson had entrusted all hia money to his wife, In various Ways—snch as the expenses of the spunging-house, the cost of his defence, his family’s maintenance, and so forth—he had expended about a hundred and fifty guineas; but he had still seventeen hundred guineas left, and it was exactly this sum which he had confided to Mrs. Emmerson. Into her hands did he give it, because he not on carth a friend whom he could trust—no, not one; and thongh he had sore misgivings when making up hia-mind thus to place his all in the possession of a frivoloys, extravagant, thoughtless woman, who, moreover, had no real affection for him,— et was he compelled to do so. Necessity ruled im, and fhere was no alternative. At all events, he saw that it was better to incur what- ever risk there might be in letting his wife become the guardian of his treasure than to keep it about his person, only to be taken pos- session of by the sheriff in the name of the Crown. When, seated in his condemnod cell, after the trial—alone, and with the chains upon him —and when, too, his mind began to be filled with that horrible clearness which was now so frightfally dispelling all doubts as to the awful reality of his position,—his ideas settled upon that amount of seventeen hundred guincas which he had deposited in his wife’s hands. But why did the wretched man suffer his thoughts thas to revert to his gold? Was not every tie that had through life bound him to the attractions of ducre now severed by the doom which left him for death? No, no—ten é Se ee ee ee ee a ES SS SR ee SE ee oe —— AOC) ( OL cS) CO