The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 220: what you’re looking at

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

re | THE MYSTERIES OF TITE OOURT. 318 disdainfulfy ; and once more extended her hand to the bell-rope. “Well, if your ladyship must rmg,” eaid Ade- jaide, “let it be for the purpose of sending off a messenger to Saxondale Castle, in order to ascer- tain whether a certain person named Chiffin is still concealed there in the cloister leading out of the chapel ?” Once more did the bell-rope leave Lady Saxon- dale’s hand without being pulled: and this time there was a still more visible and a longer con- tinued trouble in her coyntenance: so that for a a moments she was unable to give utterance to word. In those few moments she revolved in her mind—quickly as thought alone can thus exer- cise its power—how it was possible that this cir- cumstance had reached the ears of her daughter- in-law. But when on the Continent she had received a letter from Lucilla, stating how two persons, one of whom was Lord Harold Staunton, had entered the chamber: no mention however was made in that letter of Chiffin by same ;— but it now struck her ladyship that it must have somehow or another trarispired that such was his name; and if this were the case, it was perfectly easy to account for the circumstance being known to Adelaide. But still, why should she so point- edly couple Chiffin’s name with her's (Lady Sax- ondale’s) ’—why so significantly allude to his being concealed in the cloister, as if she herself must necessarily be aware of it? — - “Come, madam,” she said, “let us put an end to all this idle bandying of words. Do you mean to leave the house? or do you not P” “It is a quarter past seven,” answered Adelaide, indicating the time-piece on the mantel; “and I am still here. If I go forth, it will assuredly be to call on the Marquis of Eagledean, and inform him that Lady Saxondale was the instigatrix of his nephew in a certain attempt which was made against hie lordship some ten days back.” The patrician lady to whom these words were addressed, could no longer blind herself to the fact that her daughter-in-law had indeed, by some in- comprehensible means, obtained a farther insight into certain matters than was at all agreeable ;~— but if she knew so much, might she not know more? and it was of the utmost importance for Lady Saxondale to ascertain precisely to what extent such knowledge did reach. “Goon, madam—say what you will,” she ob- served, affecting a disdainful laugh. “We will yet see who will be the winner in this contest which you have provoked.” “TI provoked ?”” echoed Ade:ride, with a mocking ‘smile: “this is too much! You come, arrogantly and insolently, to order me from the house: is it not you re who are secking to push matters to extremes “We will not dispute the point,” rejomed Lady Saxonfile. “Once more I command you to "and again was her hand stretched to- wards the bell-pull. “ Well, if you wish it, I will certainly go,” said Adelaide: “but it shall be to inform the Marquis of Eagledean that Lady Saxondale has returned from the Continent—and that if he be desirous of asking her in a court of justice to account for the possessron of that phial of poison which she directed Harold Staunton to take from her room at - er Se — et aa ee lp Eee - a Saxondale Castle, she is now in England to answer the charge.” Lady Saxondale was completely overwhelmed by these words: she saw that she was utterly in the power of that woman whom she had come to eject from the house. Yes—she not merely felt herself to be in Adelaide’s power: but she was now filled with apprehensions as to what steps the Marquis of Eagledean might really take against her. To her all this intelligence was perfectly new : for, as the reader has seen, she had held no communica- tion with Harold Staunton since they parted at Beauvais. Having however read no account in the newspapers of the Marquis of Eagledean’s death, ahe had supposed that the plot was either abandoned or else postponed: bat she had not the slightest idea that it had been attempted—that it had failed—and that she herself was so ecriously com She sank upon a seat, gasping for breath: and for a few minutes that unsoru- palous, strong-minded, and almost iron-nerved grovelling mortification. “Now, Lady Saxondale,” resumed Adelaide, perceiving that her triumph was complete, “it is perfectly useless for us to prolong this warfare. [ might, if I chose, tell you more: I might hint at certain dread deeds which have established a terri- ble intimacy—the intimacy of crime—between yourself and Lord Harold Staunton. But I need say no more. Look, Lady Saxondale!—it is now half-past seven o'clock. I am about to ring: shall it be to order my trunks to be packed up—or to command that dinner be served ?” “ 'Whateoever will,” responded Lady Saxon- dale, in a low voice. “I sce that it is neod- ful for you and me to make terms with cach other.” Adelaide rang the bell; and as she turned to do eo, a smile of triumphant satisfaction appeared upon her countenance. A footman quickly en- swered the summons; and she said, with an air as if she herself were the mistrese of the man- sion, “ Let dinner be served. Lady Saxondale and I shall be alone together.” The footman bowed and retired; and the mo- ment the door closed behind him, Lady Sexondale, advancing up to Adelaide, grasped her by the arm, saying, in the same low thick voice as before, “How came you to know all these things?” “T may not tell you,” Adelaide. “ But Edmund—does he likewise know them ?”’ * No—not one tittle beyond what you yourself are already aware that he is acquainted with.” This was at least some relief to Lady Sazon- dale’s mind: but still she was utterly at a loss to conceive who could have been Adelaide's informant ; and for a few minutes her pride prevented her from asking any more questions. But, racked with a thousand vague terroré—and these all the more poignant for being so undefined—she said, “ If we are indeed to be friends, you will begin your show of friendship worthily by telling me whether [ am in any danger on account of the Marquis of Kaglo- dean.” “No—I believe not at present,” replied Ade. laide. “ Ask me nothing more: for nothing more will I avow.” At this moment the dour opened; and a page entered, bearing a note upon a alver salver, which —__ Eee en Sea eee Og, COLL (C DOO CS (GO)