The Mysteries of the Court of London, Vol. 7 — page 87: what you’re looking at

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

76 THE MYSTERIES OF THE COURT. “Summons!” ecltted Mr. Redcliffe, for a mo- ment drawing himself up haughtily. “ Remem- ber, Princess Indora, that you sre pot now in a country where you ean coerce or command. If you behold me here, it is that I have come volun- tarily, and in obedience to no power save that of my own will.” “You per have a right to upbraid me,” said Indore, rsa voice that was tremulous and mournful: “ut it would be generous if you were to abstain.” “% will do 60,” rejoined Redcliffe, speaking more gently, and even as if he regretted the sort of half rebuke which he had just now administered, ~-“bhecause, if I experienced some evil at the hands of your Royal father and yourself, I like- wise received some kindness.” The Princess Indora made a sign for him to sit down. He ‘slowly put off his cloak, and placed himself upon the ottoman—but at such ae distance from the lady, that she flung upon him a rapid glance of tender reproach. We must observe that the conversation which we have just recorded had passed in the same e in which Indora had discoursed with Sagoonah, and that Redcliffe spoke it with pro. ficient ease and fluency. * Is it posaible,” he went on to ask, that your Highness has come to England for the sole pur- pose described in the letter which I received at my new lodging this afternoon P” “For what other purpose could I come?” asked the Princess. “Yes—it is true, Cloment Red- cliffe, that I have followed you to your own native land for the object described in my letter. I speak frankly. Love has made me bold beforo: it renders me not a coward now ;—for I glory in that Jove which I feel for you. Do you require any additional proof than those words which J addressed to you--those offers which I made to you—and the whole tenour of my conduct towards u, when far away in my native land? You ave that proof in the fact that I have undertaken end accomplished this long, long journey—that I have travelled under a feigned name, veiling niy princely rank beneath a semblance of mediocrity and obseurity: I have come with but three faith- ful dependante—and I was resolved never to reat until I discovered you. Accident made me ac- quainted with the ciroumstance that you had bpen ‘living at a particular hotel: this day I learnt that you had returned thither, but that you had re- moved elsewhere.” Redcliffe had listened with visible pain to this epecoh, which was delivered with an admixture of roournfulness and enthusiagm,—aournfulness at the coldness of his demeanour when thoy had met, and exultation af all that she had accomplished for the love that she bore him. And on his side, be was pained because his soul was naturally too not to compassionate the “Woman who had thus formed eo extraordinary a passion for him—e peesion which he however could not re- ciprocate; and he knew not in what terms to convey a dedisiba which should dash to the ground ail the h ahe had entertained. “You do not: to me,” she want on to say,—" you are oald and distant. I half feared that is would be so: yet X endeavoured to persuade myself to the contrary. ‘I regeoned that you could et en A not fail to be touched by these last proofs of love which I have given you—and that a feeling of sympathy might possibly begtt a softer and deeper sentiment,” “Indora,” responded Redcliffe, in the mildest tones of his rich sonorous voice, “ this is an infatu- ation which is truly incomprehensible. I have no vanity that can possibly be flattered,” he added with some degree of bitterness; “and therefore I deceive not myself when I look in the mirror: vor: would the adulation of the verieatesycophant—if I were a King, like your father, to-morrow—have power to deceive me. I know what I am—se man prematurely old—my hair turning gray—bald- ness coming—my complexion sallowed by illness and bronzed by the torrid sun of your native clime———~” . | “Speak not thus!” interrupted Indora, gazing upon Hedcliffe with a look of genuine and ineffable tenderness. ‘‘ Even if you be as you describe your- sclf, you are not so in my eyes. Were your hair white—were your face wrinkled—were your form bowed with age—I should stil] love you as fondly and as well! Yes—I should still behold you only as you were when first I saw you long years back, in my gitlhood—and therefore should 1 love you ! Nor is it only that the imago of your persona, beauty of that time is 60 indelibly impressed upon my heart: it is that the brilliancy of your intellect filled me with admiration—your manners charmed me—your knowledge enlightened me !” ' She ceased fur a moment; and then, with a sud- den transition from one language to another, she went on to speak—but now in the English tongue, and with a fluency, an eloquence, a precision of accent, and a correctness of idiom that were truly remarkable. “Vor all these reasons, Clement Redcliffe, do I love you! My happinces now dependa upon the next word which must fall from your lips. Ponder well ere you speak that word, if it be to cause the wreck of a fellow-creature’s happiness! Ah! there was another reason which made me love you; and if I forgot to mention it ere now, it notwithstand- ing is far from being the least! It is that you taught me the sublime doctrines of your own re- ligion—that you weaned me from paganism and raised me up to be a Obristian. You eradicated from my mind all the detestable prejudices with which it had been embued: youd reclaimed me from a condition of mental darkness—you guided me into the paths of light. And think you that the gratitude wherewith you inspired me, was not cerlain to expand and deepen into love? Yes: and more—you taught me your own mative lan- guage—that language in which I am now addrese- ing you !”’ “ Princess,” responded Redcliffe, now also epeak- ing in the English language, “it cuts me to the. very soul to hear all these things flow from your lips: for I am not naturally stern, cruel, and piti- less—and yet there is s word that must be spoken, but to which I tremble to give utterance !" “No, no—breathe it not!” ejaculated Indora, with a sudden start and with dilating eyes: “breathe i¢ not, I entreat you! it would be my death-blow! Think on al that I have done for your aake,—-my native abandoned—a strange and far-off slime willingly and gladly sought !— think of all thie, I say—and give me some hore, ‘ s ba ECONNIC I OOO© SS CO