The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 162: what you’re looking at

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

THE MYSTERIES, ° 149 sunken even before death laid his finger upon them! And moreover this is a pauper’s coffin: there’s no possibility of mistaking about thai / Even into the grave does Misery pursue its victim [° The man stopped and remained silent for up- wards ofa minute, during which he still kept his eyes fixed upon the countenance of the dead. “But thou shalt be revenged, my poor murdered wife,” he resumed at length. “Yes—the atrocious system under which the poor of this country live and die, hath murdered thee! Thou art one of the myriad million victims whom that system hath already sent, starved or broken-hearted, to untimely graves. Oh! curses- curses—hell’s curses upon such a system! But thou shalt be revonged, I re- peat—-yes, by the living God! thou shalt be re- venged! For I will prove a terror to society—to that whose system has driven me to despair. The deity made me a man: ’tis the world which has made me a monster. And a monster will I re- main — performing the deeds of one — carrying horror into the bosom of this society whose out- cast I am—striking terror into the soul of that commanity which cherishes a few favoured ones so fondly and leaves the millions to starve—to rot—to die! And our little ones—Oh! I will seek them out—I will find them,” exclaimed the man, con- tinuing to apostrophise the corpse in a tone of con- centrated wildness mingied with a savage triumph. “Tt will not be a difficult task: either grovelling in the workhouse—or perishing on a door-step—or crouched up in a street-corner—or else perhaps in a felon’s goal, shall I find them! Yes—those are the places for the outcast working-man to look for his lost children,” continued the unhappy being, his voice now expressing a penetrating bitterness: “those are the receptacles into which English civi- lization thrusts the innocent, unoffending, famish- ing babes of the poor! O God—how long shall this system last ?—how long—how long ?” And covering his face with his hands as he knelt by the side of the coffin, the doomed wretch re- mained for upwards of a minute absorbed in the profoundest reverie. Suddenly he started up. A last kiss he im- printed upon the countenance of the corpse—a last tear he dropped—and a last look threw on the marble features: then, as if hurried along by a frantic desire to restore the coffin to its place and the grave to its propriety with all possible despatch, he addressed himself to the task with all his zeal and all his energy. . Carefully however did he resign that pauper- coffin to its last home: and when it was once more lodged at the bottom of the grave, he threw back the earth with an incredible quickness. Jn half- en-hour the labour was completed —the rising mound of the grave was remodelled with care—and the man, shouldering his spade, looked grimly around him. . No human form was visible—no eyes met his own. The silver light of the moon and stars was now shining serenely—ioo serenely for such a world of oppression, injustice, turpitude, and woe! Once more mounting upon the tombstones, the monster-man took his departure from the church- yard in the same way that he had entered it and en gaining the lane in safety, he appeared to breathe with a comparative ease and freedom that he had fot known for some hours past. We shall not accompany him farther upon the present occasion ; neither shall we inquire whither he himself is going—nor who he is—nor how he came to be the victim of so appalling a doom as that which hurried him on to the hideous pro- ceedings of this dread night of churchyard dese- cration! No—we shall not now stop to examine into all this: but the reader may rest assured that he will soon fall in with this strange and terrible being once more—and then perhaps-—— ——But let us not anticipate aught of the hor- rors which we may be called upon to reveal con- cerning the monster-man. CHAPTER CLXII LORD FLORIMEL AND THE UNKNOWN SYREN, RETvUEN we now to the boudoir of love, darkness, and mystery,—that chamber with the perfumed at- mosphere, the genial warmth, and the luxurious farniture, to which Florimel was thus introduced a second time. The sable page, be it remembered, was con- cealed in that room — his presence being utterly unsuspected and undreamt of on the part of his noble master and that lady whose wantonness had recourse to such strange expedients in order to blend self- gratification with safety. And upon the sofa which stood near the table, was this impassioned woman reclining in the arms of her paramour of a few hours ;—and, although his eyes were unable to penetrate through the Cin- merian darkness of that chamber, yet did his fancy —his ardent, glowing, and fervid fancy—depict all the charms of his companion, as, now half-naked, and intoxicated with love, she pressed her volup- tuous form against his own. With the eager eyes of his imagination he sought as it were to trace her entire person through the darkness,—to finish that exciting picture of which his sensations already farnished him with so many delicious particulars,— until his impassioned fancy could conceive all that was tempting and overpowering|ly seductive in the contours of that fine person which was abandoned 80 completely to his embrace. He saw her, then, with his mental vision,—he saw her, with the burn- ing looks of his imagination,—half-divested of her apparel—glowing as a Bacchanal, and amorous as n Bayadere—her long, glossy, silken hair flowing over the shoulders of such fluid shape and so plump and warm to the touch—her eyes half closing, her cheeks flushing, and her lips moist and red as they bestowed and received devouring caresses— her bosom heaving, with protracted sighs of plca- sure, like the long slow swell of the ocean after a storm—her white arms thrown up and embracing - his neck, with the hands joined behind his head— and her whole person yielding to the delicious langour and the sensuous abandonment of the ardours of love! Al this did the young nobleman fancy — or rather, in this manner did his imagination enable him to complete the glowing picture of what he already felt or knew. But in reality he could sce not that woman who even in the darkness was able to assert the power of a fascination superior to even the most lascivious looks: but he could fee] her splendid form as it vibrated to his pressure— (CO (C DOO (CO