The Mysteries of the Court of London, Vol. 7 — page 40: what you’re looking at

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

ka” be aK * BY Ay i a 1 G ; D -¥ FF miracle—or by almost one—I was rescued froté'é watery grave in the depths of the Potomac. I knew that the report of an accident in which eo many lives were lost—indeed all save one —would be copied from the American into the English newspapers; and when recovered from the almost fatal illness of many weeke into which the shock and horror of the calamity plunged me, I loat no time in writing to your father. Nota doubt was in“my ming but that your fears would have been relieved “as to myself, long before that letter could reach England: but if not, it was beyond the _ power of human conception to suppose that your father would keep you in that dark, dreadful belief of my death. Ob, Eliza! how I counted . the months—the weeks—tbe daye—the hours, that were to elapse ere | beheld you again!—Oh, how I cherished your image! Never man loved as I loved—never, never !” He turned abruptly aside; and his convulsive sobbings smote upon Eliza’s ears—striking her very brain as if wilh a succession of heaviest blows ,-—impaling her heart upon the atake of indescrib- able agony. And yet she dared not atretch out a hand to touch him—to awaken him as it were from that night-mare of hideous woe. She re- membered that she was a wife; and though” the very thought was crucifixion, it was nevertheless one which she must endure. o“ Yes, Eliza,” continued Bertram, when after a short space he grew calmer: “no man ever loved as I loved! Atcdength I reached England,” he continued, abruptly taking up the thread of In nar- rative —“joy, ineffable joy in my heart. Behold you butterfly sipping the honey from the flower on waich it has settled. Thus did my soul rest on the delicious sweots of ita own reflections: thus did my spirit repose in delight upon the roscate tints of love, the fairest flower of the human heart |! But what if a rude hand wero abruptly stretched forth to clutch that poor butterfly, and stripping off ite wings, were to toss it, still alive, on that parterre, to writhe out the rest of its existence in azonies—never more to sip the sweets of the flower from which it was taken? But thus was it with me: thus was it with the soul that lives in this breast !”” . And as Bertram spoke, he beat hie clenched fist violently upon his chest. “You will drive me mad!” murmured Eliza, wh seemed as if she were about to faint. ‘“ Heaven forgive me,” cried Bertram, “ for tgr- turing you thus!—but I cannot check this out- pouring.of my feelings. The burden my sufferings is too great, Kliza, for my soul to bear. I bave but a few words more to say; and I entreat you to hear them. I was at Liverpool when I read the actount of your marriage in the paper— a marriagé with my own uncle! What could I think, but that you were faithless to me? When reason returned, I wrote to the Government, en- treating to be at once appointed to @ post in another Embafsy: for I had resigned my situstion in that at Washington. My request was promptly acceded to: I was nominated to the Embassy at St. Petersburgh. ,Thither I sped without delay. Never did man travel so fast! It was the mad endeavour to*outetrip my thoughts—to distance, #0 te speak, the agonies which, like pursuing fiends | Bertram,” continued the young lady, with am ex: MYOTERIES OF THE COURT. .% was ordered home to Engiand with important ‘@espatches. I arrived, as you are aware, but a few days back; and I said to mysolf, ‘I will ce her once more. Such perfidy as her's, ia setorn for 80 much love, must not go un Whatever the risk be, I will see her!’"—And shape was another reason too, Elisa: it was that I pit posed to give back your ring, and to demeadd. mine,” “Take back your ring, Bertram,” said Elis; ia a low tremulous voice ; and now it seemed to her that sho was about to sever the very last feeble tie which in any way connected her with an oly- sian past ;—and as she apoke, she slowly drew forth the ring from her bosom. “ Ah!" ejaculated Bertram Vivian, a wild jo flashing suddenly in his eyes: “ you have kept it there—next to your heart! Oh! then, Elisa, you have not ceased to love mé, even when becoming another's P” “Bid the flower divest itsalf of its fragrance— bid the green plant put off its verdure of ita own accord,” ahe answered solemnly; “and it ie com. manding impossibilities. Bid the waters of that fountain cease to well upward while the motive power is there; and it were also commandin what cannot be done. Think not therefore that my heart could put away that love which has be- come as inseparable from it in life as the fragrance is from the flower or the verdure from the plant while the warm season lasts! Think not eithér 3 that it is in my power to still the feelings which! There was a huly solemnity—a sanctified pathos, in Eliza’s tone as she thue spoke; and as her words ceased, she proffered the ring which she had drawn forth from her bosom. . “No, Eliza—no !" exclaimed Bartram, with renewed excitement. “I will not take it back! Whatever hencefopth we may be’ to each other ——-and that perhaps is as nothing,” he added bitterly of my love, as I will keep the pledge of your's. “ still, still shall you retain the pledge There can bo no sin in this!” " “| will keep it, Bertram,” answered the Duchess, aficr a fow moments’ hesitation; and she con- signc. the ring back to ite reating-place next her heart “Oh! but if all this be possible,” abruptly ex- claimed Bertram Vivian, as fresh ideas came sweeping through his mind, but replete , with newly awakened suspicion and miatruat, all the force and anguish of which were at the same in- stant reflected in his countenance,—~—* how was it, Eliza, that you bestuwed your hand upon mine own uncle? Did it not strike you that there was something to shock the purity of the foel- ings " “Accuse me not, Bertram,” interrupted Elisa, with a look full of candid yet mournful ingenuous- ness. “There is not a question you can put to me, which I am not to answer. And I will answer every one ly and perry Ob! if this were not my purpose, I might shieid myself in dissimulations of all kinds—I might affect offended pride and indignant innocence at being thus questioned! But as my soul is guilglens, it needs not such artifices wherein to take refuge. Gr ravenqus wolves, were upon my track. At léngth | pression of ineffable woe upon ber _— nee Se cornynee am a egtmnmenmrinns Rmanpere et 2 mages tnben woe meet ae aa aH» if wm . NOG rise upward from the hidden springs of my soul {” | | | | | : | | | ante ! SS