The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 279: what you’re looking at

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

THE MYSTERINE OF THE COURT. you thus endeavour to stave off the instant when you must hear the truth. Listen, I say, my lord! You see before you a man who is placed in the most difficult and painful of positions. I am rained—fifty thousand pounds do I owe this law- yer—or, more properly speaking, his client ; twenty thousand pounds of bills which I have pat in cir- culation and, my God, euch bills!—will be due in a few days: these are also in this lawyer's hands—— Zoe’s fortune made away with——” “Well, well!” ejaculated the Duke, now evi- dently fevered with the intensest and most painfal curiosity. “ But how does all thise——” “ How does it regard your Grace P” exclaimed Armytage bitterly. “In a direct manner, I mean?’ interjected Marchmont. “Of course through friendship for e My lord, if you would but listen !” exclaimed Armytage, with renewed impatience. “I have shown you how on the one side I stand upon the very verge of ruin: I may now tell you how on the other I have received offere of a most astounding— @ most incredible nature——and yet all true, all true! I may be rich once more: I may be released from these fearful liabilitiee—the fortune of my daughter, which I have dissipated, may be re- plaeed—and in addition to all this, a large sum may be at my disposal,—all on one condjtion— yes, one condition, my lord——” ejaculated Marchmont, smitten with the conviction that all to which he was listening must indeed more or less regard himeelf. “Your Grace may believe me or not, as you think fit,” resumed Armytage: “but I swear unto you that no syllable suggestive of aught to your judice went forth from my lipe: no word savour- ing of betrayal, did I utter. No, by heaven: not a syllable—not a word! And yet the proposition was made—a proposition to the effect that if I would only reveal something——Need I, my lord, say more?” “In the name of God,” gasped the Dake, white asa sheet, and staggering as if stricken a blow, “ what—what——” Bat he could not complete the sentence: he could not complete the query which he endea- voured to frame with his ashy quivering lips. “ For years bas your Grace’s secret been kept,” resumed Armytage; “and for countless reasons would I most sincerely desire to keep it inviolate unto the end! But the temptation to betray it is immense! With me everything is now at stake: circumstances render me intensely selfish ; and it is for your Grace to decide whether I am to owe the resuscitation of my fortunes to vour- self, or to that lawyer in the other room ?” Armytage had spoken with a mingled nervous- ness and resoluteness; and the Duke of March. ment, sinking upon a chair, gasped for breath. His eyes stared wildly: his countenance became fear- fal to look upon in ite indescribable ghastliness. The punishment of pandemonium was gnawing at the heart within—rending the soul with ineffable excruciations, and reflecting its direat agonics upon the features themselves. “ Travers,” said the Duke, in a low hollow voice, as he rose from his seat and appruached Armytage, “ you could not do this!” “ My lord,” was the response, “I repeat that I have grown intensely selfish: 1 can now think of no one but of myself and of my daughter. Seventy thousand pounds do I owe to this lawyer—or rather to his client; and, Oh, my lord! you know not how absolutely necessary it is that the bills which form a portion of that debt should be taken up before they are due!” “But, my God, Travers!” asked the Dake, with the most feverish and frightfal suspense, “ what has this Coleman been saying to youP What does he know? what does he suspect? There must have been some clue——” “ My lord,” replied Armytage, “I swear that I know nothing as to the origin of ali that has ere now taken place. I myself was astounded! Think you that I would have wilfully dropped a word———” “No, no, Travers!” exclaimed Marchmont. * Pray cease from calling me by that name! It sounds ominous, my lord—I tell you that it sounds ominous! The raven does not croak forth its own doom———”” “ Enough, Armytage!” interrupted Marchmont : “ our very language is taking a tone which is inde- soribebly horrible! But tell me—tell me—I adjure you, tell me—nay, I command you,” continued the Duke, almost maddened with the hideous thoughts that were agitating in his brain, so that he scarcely knew what he said: “is not all this some device on your part—some understanding with that lawyer for the purpose of drawing me into the settlement of your debts? Oh! if it be, I will forgive you —I will forgive you—I will come furward to assist you! Only relieve my mind—tell me that nothing really is known—that nothing is suspected,—tell me this, I entreat you, Armytage—give that assurance, my dear friend—and I will pardon the little device—I will attribute it to the desperation of your circumstances Oh! set my mind at ease, I entreat and implore !” “ My lord,” responded Armytege, “I am sot deceiving you! It is utter folly on your part to blind yourself to the perils which environ you, and to seek to take refuge in an idea which your own good sense tells you is unfounded.” The Duke was however catching at any straw which floated past; and like all men in desperate circumstances, he was endeavouring to reason against his own convictions. No pen can desoribe the degree of wretchedness which he experienced —the forlorn desolate state of abject misery to which his mind was reduced. Ghastly as his coun- tenance was, it was still a tablet as imperfect to reflect all that was blighting, searing, scathing, and scorching his heart within, as language iteelf is powerless to convey the extent of that deep in- ternal agony. “ For beaven’s sake make haste, my lord! How is it to be?” exclaimed Armytage. “You know the worst—and it is for you to decide. Desperate as my own circumstances are, it is to mo bat a matter of indifference from which quarter help may come—whether from yourself or from that attorney in the other room. There is however one thing which yoy should bear in mind. It is quite evident that whatsoever Mr. Coleman may suspect, be is very far from having any certitude upon the point: it is clear that he must be utterly without proofs—or else he would not be prepared on bebalf COMME OOO SS} (CO