The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 399: what you’re looking at

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

a a with himself for having adopted this course of first of all communicating with his lordship ere taking any extreme measure upon his own re- sponsibility. “My dear Hawkshaw,” said the Marquis, at length breaking silence, but speaking in a broken and tremulous voice,—at the same time that he took the Squire’s hand, and pressed it with convul- | your sive nervousness,—“ you and Denison have acted most generously. Oh, that vile young man !—— Good heavens! is it possible that he should be so deeply stained with guilt? Accursed be Lady Saxondale !—for she it is who has thus urged him on step by step from one crime to another. Ah! my dear friend, I can now give you some explanations which will help to clear up whatsoever mystery still envelops that horrible tragedy, so far as you are acquainted with it. The masquerade-dress, of the discovery of which you told me a long time ago, was worn by Lady Saxondale on a particular night, when she had an appointment with my wretched nephew,—the object of that appointment to incite him to a ducl with William Deveril. It has all along been evident that this dress fell into the hands of Emily Archer the ballet-dancer, who was the mistress of Edmund Saxondale. We may therefore surmise that she gleaned enough infor- mation on the point to be enabled to use that dress as a means of extortion or coercion with regard to Lady Saxondale. And now, Hawkshaw, you can understand wherefore her ip had so deep an interest in clearing her path of the unfortunate ballot-dancer. I confess there have been times, ever since you mentioned the di of that masquerade-dress some time back,—and which dis- covery proved that it was this particular costume which the women had with them in the parcel on the evening of the murder,—there have been times, I say, when distant suspicions have flitted through my mind, that Lady Saxondale might possibly have not been altogether a stranger to the foul assassination of those victims. But still there was no positive evidence to justify such a thought; and at all events I never for a moment fancied that my wretched nephew could have been implicated in the tragedy. I knew that he was stretched upon his bed at the time; and never for an instant did it occur to me that his i was fei for the purpose of enabling him to commit, with all the greater ease and security, so execrable a crime. However, it is, alas! but too apparent sow that such has been the real truth; and I am well nigh broken-hearted at the thought.” “Your lordship indeed requires all your forti- tude,” said Hawkshaw, profoundly moved by the spectacle of his noble friend’s affliction. “Ah! I do indeed comprehend, from all that you have just said, how it was that Lady Saxondale might have had the strongest possible motives for the perpe- tration—or rather the instigation of so foul a deed. But what, my lord, is to be doneP As yet no ex- posure has taken place. The incidents which I have been relating to you, are known only to Deni- son and myself. Rest assured that our friendship towards yourself and all cennected with you, shall over-ride every other consideration, if you so will &. Should you decide upon maintaining silence im respect to this dreadful discovery, for the sake of the amiable Florina and the kind-hearted Lady Macdonald, you have but to say the word. It will THE MYSTERIES OF THE OOSRT. be easy for me to return into Lincolnshire and say something to those labouring men which will give them to understand that the clue which I at one moment fancied to be obtained, has not turned ous to be the right one.” “Hawkshaw, whatever may occur,” responded the Marquis, “ I never can forget this kindness on part, and that of wy friend Denison. I scarcely feel myself justified in allowing selfish considerations to outweigh the sense of duty which we all owe to the law and to society at large. But yet there are the gravest motives——yes, the gravest ——" The uis stopped short, and walked abruptly towards the window, where he remained for some minutes wrapped up in the deepest thought. He envisaged all that must occur if justice should be allowed to take its course. That Lady Saxondsle was not merely the accomplice but the instigatrix of the crime, was beyond the possibility of doubt. If therefore Lord Harold Staunton were arrested for the murder, her guilt must inevitably transpire. And then, what would be the feelings of William Deveril? Should he, after having made such noble sacrifices to save his mother from exposure, shame, and ruin,—should he be now compelled to see her held up to a world’s execration for a crime even still more terrible than that from the uences of which he had striven to shield her? Should he be forced to behold his mother plunged into se felon’s gaol—dragged before a public tri and ultimately sent out of the world by the hand of the executioner? Oh! the Marquis but too well knew that all this would break the generous heart of Florina’s husband—that Fiorina herself would sink down prematurely to the grave—and that thus the crimes of the guilty would redound with horrible effect upon the of the innocent. These were the reflections which passed through the mind of the Marquis of Kagledean. But there were other considerations which he had likewise to take into account. During the fourteen or fifteen months which had now elapeed reality the son of Lady Saxondale, he had occa- sionally called upon her in Park Lane: she had always received him alone—she had lavished upon him careages which appeared the tenderest and the most affectionate; and he loved her notwithstand- ing all the past. He was ignorant that Lord Harold Staunton was her almost avowed paramwour. Married as he was to Staunton’s sister, no one whom he met—not even the most casual scquaint- ances—would so far outrage delicacy as to make the alightest allusion to such a circumstance. He therefore hoped and believed that his mother Lady Saxondale was now leading a quiet and respectable life ; and thus he had no hesitation in visiting her from time to time, as above described. Of course Florina knew not that he ever went to Saxondale House: she had continued ignorant of the tremen- dous secret of his birth—a secret nuw known but to himself, Lady Saxondale, the Marquis of Eagie- dean, and Angela (Francis Paton’s s wife), But even supposing that the discovery which Hawk- shaw had come to Park to announces, should be hushed up and buried in silence,—how was it possible that the Marquis of could suffer the pure-minded and virtuous William Deveril to go on visiting his mothcr—a nsurderese? (COL (C DOO CS (COL