Penny Dreadfuls, 1850 · page 140 of 399
The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 140: what you’re looking at
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THE MYSTERIES OF THE COURT “Oonsider, Armytage—fifty thousand pounds is no sniall debt to contract.” “I am aware of it,” responded Zoo's father: “but I have no fear ip respect to my ability to refund i¢ in due time, J ave numerous sums to receive from noblemen’ aud gentlemen in the course of the year——”’ “Then wherefore not render those securities available for your purpose?” ejaculated March- mont, clutching greedily at the idea which he hoped might save him from having to yield to Armytage’s demand. “ Because, my lord,” was the reply, “if I were to part with those securities, I should lose my cheats. The money-lenders into whose hands they fell, would take away my patrons from me.” * Buf really, Travers “That name again |” ejaculated Armytage. “Weill, well—you have yourself to blame for it, inasmuch ag you ere now recalled those times when you bore that name, and when you were very differently situated from what you are now. Consider all I have done for you-———” ‘ “In ope word, my lord,” interrupted Army- tage, “ am I to bave this money? or am I not?” “And if I say that I cannot possibly accom- yodate you P” inquired the Duke. “Then J] am a ruiméd man—and I blow my brains out,” was the unhesitating rejoinder given by Zoe's father. “But, my lord, in such an extreme and frightful case,” he added, in a@ voice ao low that his words only just reached Christian’s ears,—“ I should not pass out of this world with- out leaving behind me a written history of my life, and all my experiences of whatsover sort they may have been.” : ‘There was a long pause in the discourse; and it was at length broken by the Duke of March- mont, who said, “At what time to-day must you have this money P” “It should all be paid ito my bankers’ hands by five o'clock this ‘evening,’ responded Army- ae shali be there!” said the Duke: and almost immediately afterwards Zoe’s father took his departure. Christian instantaneously quitted the cabinet, for fear lest the Duke should happen to look into that room; and he at once ascended to his own chamber. There he sat down to reflect upon what he had heard. He was sorry that he had listened : remorseful feelings arose within him, in- asmuch as none of the discourse which had thus reached his cars, bore the slightest reference to the horrible conspiracy in progress against the ace and reputation of the Duchess of March- mont. Christian could not hide from himeelf the fact that lie had done an unhandsome thing: in sooth, he was ashamed of his own conduct. He did not know whether to report all he had learnt to Mr. Redcliffe, or not. But still he thought that as he had in the first inatance set himself to listen with a special object, he had better com- municate the resulta to that geritleman. And this reflection led him on to another—which was that it was probable Mr. Redcliffe’s plan of proceeding was to gain possession of some secrets in respect to the Duke, for the purpose of wielding them as a means for compelling him to do justice to the unfortunate Duchess. 127 “And if this be Mr. Redeliffe’s aim,” thought Christian to himeelf, “it is perhaps fortunate after all that I did listen to the conversation between bis Grace and Mr. Armytage. I am fighting in a good cause and on the side of justice. The cause is that of an inoffensive, a virtuous, and an excellent lady, against whom the foylest of con- spiracies has been set on foot; and all weapons which Mr. Redcliffe and myself may use to frustrate the odious scheme, are fair and legitimate.” These reflections cheered the youth’s spirits; and immediately after dinner he repaired to Mor- timer Street, Cavendish Square. He had never been there but once since he and Christina re- signed their lodgings in the house; and that once | was on the occasion when he and his sister called upon Mra. Macaulay to inquire whether she could give them any advice towards extricating them from the difficulties wherein they were placed at the time. . Christian knocked at the door, which was speedily opened by Mrs. Macaulay in person: for she had seen him pass her parlour-window. Per- ceiving that he was well dressed and was evidently in comfortable circumstances, the prudent land- lady gave him a hearty welcome,—which she could safely do, as his appearance relieved her of the idea that he was possibly coming to borrow money —in which case she had an excuse in readiness She would have been extremely sorry—nothing would have given her greater pleasure—but she had only that very morning paid her rent—and what with this disbursement and her Christmas bills, she was drained quite dry. But fortunately Mrs. Macaulay was spared this tissue of false- hoods, inasmuch as Christian came for no money- bunting purpose whatsoever. “And how do you do?” she exclaimed, shaking him by the hand: “and how is that dear sister of your's? I have often and often thought of you, and wondered why you never dropped in to take a friendly cup of tea. J had been thinking that I would call on Mrs. Giles to learn if you were still with her, and bow you were getting on: but I have been so busy! For the rooms you used to occupy were let—immediately after you left—to an elderly couple. Though between you and me,” she added, lowering her voice to a whisper, and putting on a look of mysterious confidence, “they are no great shakes: for Mr. dohnson—that’s the name—locks up hig wine and brandy; and Mrs. Jobnson never by any accident leaves the key in the tea-caddy. Now ian’t that mean?” While thus speaking, Mrs. Macaulay had led the way into ber parlour; and Christian, in order to avoid the necessity of giving an answer to the question with which she had so indignantly con- cluded ber speech, inquired if Mr. Redcliffe was at me “ No—but he will be in almost directly,” replied Mrs. Macaulay. “Do sit down and take a glass of wine.’ i you—not in the middle of the ‘ Well, and you are quite right,” exclaimed the landlady. “Never drink wine in the middle of the day—I never do—unless it is at a neighbour's, or a lodger happens to leave a drop at the bottom of a bottle. Not that the Johnsons do! No— bless you! they even decant their Port down to (GO) an (C DOO Col