The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 23: what you’re looking at

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

ae © Ce . sentences, as she sank back in the chair to which the Prince bore her. “Speak—I conjure you to speak, my dear Fanny !"’ exclaimed his Royal Highness. “What is the inatter?—what new misadventure has occurred f” “ Another murder—another horrible murder—and one of my girls in custody upon the charge!" returned Mrs. Brace, gasping forth the words with difficalty. “Ob! ruin is coming upon me—I see it—plain and paipable ——"’ “ Cease— cease these lamentations,” cried the Prinoe, speaking with feverish impatience as he re- covered from the shock which the milliner’s terrible revelation had caused him to experience. “ Surely your brain must be wandering—your ideas are un- settled—you are labouring under a delusion ——” “Would to God that I were!’ exclaimed Mrs. Brace, pressing her hands to her throbbing brows and shuddering visibly. “Rose Foster at Clerk- euwell Gaol—Caroline Walters in Horsemonger Lane Prison—each accused of a diabolical murder— each able to make revelations that will bring down ruin—utter ruin upon my head——O Ged! it is more than I can bear !” And the wretched woman burst into an agonised fit of weeping. This efflux of tears consoled her somewhat—or at ail events relieved her; and in a few minutes she wiped her eyes, saying, “ Misfortunes never come alone—and these are black and threatening indeed !” “ But the second calamity—what is it?” demanded the Prince. “The midwife in Fore Street—the woman whom I have often named to you—was murdered last night,” said Mrs. Brace; “and one of my girls—a certain Caroline Walters—has been taken into cus- tody on suspicion of having perpetrated the deed.” “ And is that suspicion wel| founded, think you ?* inquired his Royal Highness. “ Alas! yes,” was the mournful response. “ Caro- line Walters is as capable of the crime imputed to her, as Rose Foster is incapable of the deed with which she is charged.’’ “ And from what channel have you learnt this new misfortune?” asked the Prince. “Who sent Miss Forrester to you ?” “A Bow Street Officer has just been to my house,” returned Mrs. Brace. “ Indeed he is waiting there new, in case I should like to seehim. For although the murder of the midwife was committed in Lam- beth, the magistrates of which district will examine the wretched girl presently, yet this Bow Street officer has been engaged to institute the usual in- quiries concerning the accused; and he is now em- ployed in both cases. What shall I do?—would you advise me to see him ?” “I have a very great mind to see him myself,” observed the Prince. “These Bow Street runners are men who will do anything for money : they can collect evidence to suit just which side they please —to make biack seem white or white black——_” “Oh! if you think—my dear Prince —if you have a hope—to save Rose Foster—yes, and Caro- line Walters likewise,” gasped Mrs. Brace, throwing herself at the feet of his Royal Highness and seizing both- his hands with nervous violence in her own,—“ 1 implore—d beseech that you will see this inan——” “Yes—I will see him ejaculated the heir-appa- rent, forcing the inilliner to rise. “ But yould you seek to save that Caroline Waltera whom you be- lieve guilty, as well as our poor Rose Foster whom we feel to be innocent ?” “Wo must save them both, Prince!” answered Mrs. Brace; “the revelations which Varoline Wal- ters could make concerning me——”" “Enoagh!” ejaculated his Royal Highness, who appeared to have made up his mind to play a reso- lute aud determined part. “Goand bring the Bow Street offiver hither by the private staircase.” “In five minutes he shall be here,” answered Mrs. Brace, her countenance lighting up with hope. | She then harried away—and the Prince resumed his walk up and down the room: but this pacing to and fro was less troubled than before, inasmuch as he persuaded himself that the Bow Street officer would be enabled to avert the pecoliar evila which now wore so menacing an aspect. In a short time the door of the private staircase was opened again—and Mrs. Brace re-appeared, followed by a tall, stout, middle-aged man, shabbily dressed, and carrying a huge stick in hishand. On being thus introduced into the presence of the Prince, the officer made a bow which, though very low, was as awkward aod ungainly as if it were an elephant practising au obeisance; then advancing towards his Royal Highneas in obedience to a has- tily-whispered intimation from the lips of Mra, Brace, he made another bow and waited to be spoken to. “ What is your name, my good fellow ”” inquired the Prince, adopting a very congiliatory tone. “Peter Grumley, may it please your Royal High- ness,” answered the official, in a voice which was as rough and hoarse as if he were speaking through a cracked bassoonu—for the truth was that he had been singing the best part of tho night at a free- and-easy. “Well, Mr. Peter Grumley, we shall know each other better presently,” said the heir-apparent. “I believe you are an officer at Bow Street——” “The head officer, at your Royal Highness’s ser- vice,” was the response, accompanied by anotier elephantine bow. “In fact, this here lady,” he continued, jerking his thumb over his shoulder to- wards Mrs. Brace, “has told me as how that your Royal Highness has a mind to put a summut in my way —and I should be proud to do anythink ta please your Royal Highness, let alone the recompense attending it.” “ And I may depend upon your caution and se- crecy respecting my interference in the business that I wish to consult you upon?” said the heir- apparent. “ I’d sooner slit my windpipe than biab a syllable,” exclaimed Mr. Peter Grumley, with niore emphasis than elegance. “ Besides, it's my dooty to obey your Royal Highness which will some day be the suverin of these rel-ems.” ' And the embryo “sovereign of the realms” could not help smiling at the pronunciation of the Bow Street officer, who, thinking that he was bound to take the cue of good manners from the Prince, gave a tremendous grin as if his head were suddenly opening from ear to ear. “ Bat let us hasten to business,” cried the heir- apparent: “for time is precious.” Mr. Gramley’s mouth instantly closed—and he . 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