The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 103: what you’re looking at

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

THE MYSTERIES OF THE COURT ) Georgian ; and hence the comparative fair- complexion. But we must not argue subject. . You .now understand me, much better perhaps than ever you did before; and I on the other hand am willing to believe that you that portion of your conduct which rust be but too well calcu- lated to inspire such remorseful feeling. Therefore I appeal to your generosity—I appeal to that fem}- i i hich characterises you—I appeal to is, that we part now to meet no more !” , The Princess Indora pressed her hand to her prow; and a faint half-stified shrick burst from her lips. The next moment, in a paroxysm of in- describable agony, she threw herself upon her knees; and extending her elasped hands towards Redcliffe, cried m a frantic voice, “You are killing me! you are killing me!” “For heaven's sake give not thus way to your feelings !”—and he hastened to raise her up. It seomed as if she were about to faint: she clung to him—and her head upon his breast. He was forced to sustain her: but he gently placed her upon the ottoman—and stand- ing before her, he eaid, “ Indora, if you ever loved me, I beseech you to fulfil yeur promise and respect my decision !”’ | She had for a moment covered her countenance with her hands; and her entire form was shaken with a low convulsive sob. Slowly now she re- mcved those hands; and looking up towards the Englishman with such ineffable woe depicted upon her features that it made his very heart bleed tg contemplate the spectacle, she said in the profound voice of despair, “ Yee—I will respect your de- cision.” Clement Redcliffe was about to extend his band and bid the Princees a last farewell,_when a thought struck him—and he lingered : but still he knew not how to shape the request which he had to make—for a request it was. “ Indora,” at length he said, “I will not ask if it 1s with s feeling of anger you are about to be- hold me go forth from your presence—because I know tbat from all you have been saying, you are no longer capable of experiencing the slightest “No, Clement Redcliffe,” she answered so- lemnly, but at the same time with a visible effort keeping back an ebullition of the strongest feel. imge: “rather than do you an down my life to serve you '” The Englishman was profoundly touched by this assurance. The reader has seen enough of him to be aware that he was naturally generous-hearted —indeéd of a fine chivalrous character, notwitb- standing that so large a portion of his life had been spent in captivity, and that this circumstance, as well as others, had tended to sour his mind and watp some of his better feelings. Yes—he was generous-hearted; and the assurance which the unfortunate Princess had just given, could not fail te,touch him profoundly. Besides, he would have beg” Munething lees or something more than man whe haf remained ther inaccessible to the injury, I would lay was so well calculated to make—even though 3 were a love which he himself could not reciprocate. It therefore cut him to the very soul—it made his heart bleed—it awakened sensibilities which he had fancied crushed, or at least buried in eternal slumber—it staggered the very resolve which had ere now gone forth from his lips! He resumed his seat on the sofa—perheps 8 little nearer to the Princess than he was placed during all the former part of the interview; and she followed him with her eyes, in whieh some faint gleam of hope glittered again—but yet so feebly, because she dared not allow herself to enter- tain it. “Indora,” suddenly exclaimed Redcliffe, with almost passionate vehemence—and such a paroxyem of feeling was indeed most rare on his part,— “it is impossible I can leave you thus! I regret having said anything that might seem to savour of reproach: I am sorry that I should have dwelt so long and so emphatically on your conduct in prolonging my captivity in India. But heavens! if you were aware of all the mischief which was thus entailed upon me——and you cas in part comprehend it, from those words which I let drop on the memorable occasion when I knelt at your feet by the side of the marble fountain in the palace of Inderabad———Oh ! if you knew all you would pardon any bitterness that tinctured my words!” “It would be impossible, Clement,” answered the Princess mildly—almost meekly, “for you to give me offence. My unfortunate love has tamed my disposition: I no longer think and fetl with the pride of a King’s daughter—bdbut with the bumility and the suffering of a poor weak woman !” “Heavens!” ejaculated Redcliffe, visibly strug- gling with himeeclf as the resolve which he had pronounced was more and more staggered by each successive proof of Indora’s illimitable devotion : ‘‘ how can I endare to torture you, while you dis- play so much goodness ?”’ He rose and paced the apartment with hurried and uneven steps. That man whose wont it was to be so mournfully grave and so coldly reserved— so shut up, as it were, in the secret sorrows of his own inscrutable heert—was now s prey. to the profoundest agitation. Indora followed him with her eyes: that very agitation afflicted ber on the one hand, while it partially seemed to encourage hope on the other; and the tears again streamed down her cheeks—again trickled upon the gorgeous bust which the open caftan and the low under- garment left half-revealed. “ Indora,” said Redcliffe, abruptly resuming his seat by her mde, “I cannot leave you thus—my very nature revolts against it! And yet for heaven’s sake buoy not up yourself with immedi- ate hope: for that could not possibly be fulfilled at once——No, sternly and implacably should I refuse, even were at this moment at the point of death and an affirmative syllable from my lips could alone save you! But yet——” He stopped short: and it was with breathless suspense—with fixed eyes—dilated nostrils—lips apert—head bent forward—and bosom upheaved, that Indora sat in the attitude of one who awaits a sound which she expects to hear but which she fraprens <“ which that fond woman's devoted lov, | is afraid may cecape her. (COLL (C DOO (GO)