The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 397: what you’re looking at

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shaw : “I will take charge of them likewise. Here! you can envelope them in my handkerchief—it is for the purpose.” Bis erties wore executed; and having distri- buted some money amongst the men, the Squire rode off with the bundle and the weapon. Bat he did not pursue his way to Gainsborough: turned his horse's head in another direction, and rode straight, at a brisk gallop, back to his own residence. On arriving there, he gave the bundle of clothes to one of the servants, with mstructions to cleanse and dry them thoroughly. He then ed to his own chamber, where he set him- self busily to work, with oil and a piece of leather, to remove the rust from that part of the pistol where the maker's name was In about half-an-hour he eucceeded in deciphering that mame; and it was indeed the one which he had from the very first expected to find there. He now sent off a groom with a note to Mr. Denison, requésting an immediate visit from that gentleman, on business of the utmost importance. It was not until a late hour in the afternoon that Mr. Denison arrived at Hawkshaw Hall ; and in the meantime the clothes had been thoroughly ushered into the parlour where the Squire received him, he was much astonished at the look of pro- fonnd sorrow, mingled with consternation and horror, which his friend wore ; and this was enhance’ when he beheld a pistol, a cloak, trousers, @ pair of boote, and a couple of stockings lying upon the table. “< ‘What has occurred, Hawkshaw ?” asked the old gentleman, with a degree of nervous suspense. “The murder: of the ballet-dancer and her sorvant-maid,” answered the Squire solemnly, “is no longer involved in mystery !”” “ Indeed !” ejaculated Denison; and he glanced towards the things on the table, suspecting that they were connected with the announcement just made to him—though, with the single exception of the pistol, he did not understand how they could possibly furnish links in the chain of evidence. “Yes,” continued Hawkshaw; “ it is from those articles which you are surveying, that I have gleaned the damning truth. That pistol sent the unfortunate victims to the other world; and those were the worn by the murderer at the time. I understand it all, Denison! But, my God! what a blow for the relatives of the wretched assassin !” Hawkshaw !” exclaimed Mr. Denison: “who ishe? You evidently know him——” “ And you also, my dear friend,” added the Squire, profoundly distressed. “ He is——” “Who P” “ Lord Harold Stainton |” Mr. Denison staggered as if smitten violently with a hammer: he became pale as death—and sinking upon a seat, murmured, “ Heavens, the poor Marquis and Florina! Lady Macdonald too it ia frightful |” “Frightful indeed!” said Hawkshaw: and the two friends exchanged looks of indcecribable hor- ror. “ But are sare &” exclaimed Mr. Denison, catching at the hope that the Squire might pos. sibly be deceived. “ Are you certain that you may not be mistaken ?” THE MYSTERIES OF THE COURT. “No, my dear friend—the truth is indoed but too apparent. isten—and I will give you all requisite explanations. I comprehend everything as plainly as if the murderer's confession were made, and the hideous details were still ringing in our ears. Circumstances which wore quite another com at the time, now reveal themselves in their true light. But if—as there is every reason te suspect—that vile woman was herself an ace complice——” the Castles be the room which he cosupied at tackie—and I li @ little while to converse with him. Accident led me to examine his pistol- case, which was made to contain two—but one only was there: the other was missing. I looked at the one which was left. I remember commenting upon its workmanship: I observed the maker's name—and I remarked that it was a celebrated one. This pistol which lies before you, Denison, is the exact fellow to the one which I then saw !” “ Good heavens !—then there is no doubt!” said the old gentleman, shuddering. “Alas! not the slightest,” rejoined Hawkshaw. “And now I bethink me, there was something very singular in Staunton’s manner throughout that conversation—-—I remember too that at one moment ———- Ah! it was when I observed that he was doubtless a good shot—he became so deadly pale, and his countenance suddenly wore so ghastly a look, that I grew terrified on his account. I however attributed those appearances to his re- cent accident: but that accident itself, Denison, I now feel convinced was an intentional one—— Yes, I comprehend it all !” bred Pe aan the accident with your thorough “I do. Heavens! what a deeply laid project! with what demon-like artifice was the whole plan arranged! Do you not fathom my meaning? The wretched young man threw himveelf from the horse in order that he might obtain a sufficient plea and excuse for keeping his own chamber. Thus was while the very fact that he was believed to be stretched upon a bed of iliness, was of course cal- culated to avert even the possibility of suspicion from himecif. On that fatal nights therefore, he must have stolen forth from the Castle——” “ But how ?” inquired Denison, experiencing a fearful and likewise bewildering interest in these lanations exp . “How?” echoed Hawkshaw. “Was it not proven to us, a short time after the very tragedy itself, that Staunton knew full well how to obtain secret ingress to the Castle? That tree which grows up from the river’s bed, and the branches of which spread against the windows of the 39 “Ah! and where his kerchief was discovered,” ejaculated Denison. “Then you think that on the fatal night of the murder, be must have stolen forth from his chamber—ne must have passed out of the Castle by that window———” “No doubt of it,” ropliod Hawkshaw. “ it ie _ _) [| @ (COL DOO CS (COL