The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 240: what you’re looking at

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

% THE MYSTBRIZS OF THR COURT. and stifle the grief that was swelling so agonisingly in her bosom. Her slight forna was modelled to the most graceful symmetry: innocence shed its soft halo even upon her profoundly mournful looks ;— her retiring, timid, and bashful manner unmistak- ably denoted the purity of her wind. Ascending the stepa leading to the gate, or half- door, surmounted with its bristling fringe of iron spikes, her looks plunged affrightedly and recoil- ingly into the dark gloomy vestibale within: and the next moment a turnkey looked over the well- guarded barrier. “ What is it, young o’oman ?” he aaid, in a short surly tone—for he was discussing his dinner and a pot of porter at the moment of her arrival. “I believe—I am afraid,” she anawered tremu- lously and timidly, “that a young gentleman named Theodore Varian has been brought hither this fore- “ We've no young gevelmen here, Miss,” said the turnkey, gruflly. * A young man has been brought in this my marnin’, committed by the Lord Mayor for “May I see him?” asked the girl, the syllables which formed the request seeming as if they issued from a breaking heart. “ Heis my brother:”—and she burst info tears. ** Well, I'm sorry to be obleeged to refuse you, my dear,” said the turnkey, somewhat softened: “but it’a afier the ’ours for wisitors, and its agin the rules to let anyhody enter now. I’m wery sorry, I eay— but you must come to-morrow mornin’ at eleven o'clock.” “Qh! can you not let me see roy poor brother— if only for a moment?!” asked Ariadne Varian, in a voice that was convulaed with bitter, bitter anguish. “It can’t be done, Miss,” said the turnkey: “ but you can ax the guy’ner. Goon ¢ little further, and ascend them steps which leads to the door of his: house.” Then, having waved a huge key in the direction to which be bad alluded, the man disappeared from the gate—and poor Ariadne, hastily wiping her eyes, passed along the fsent of the frowning prison until she reached the door of the governors dwelling. The knock whiah she gave was jow and timid-—for there was in her eoul a senes of such deep, deep humiliation, that it seemed to her as if her prayer would only be granted by a display of abject ser- vility on her part, and that even too loud a knock would ensure o refasel. Alea! this poor young girl was alseady doomed, at so tender an age, to expe rience the d which even innocence feais when visiting the abode of the criminal ! A woman-servant answered tbe door and the instant Ariadpe began to make known her business, the governor himeclf issued forth from an office close by. “]'m eorry I can’t help you, young waman,’ he said: “but it is altogether against the rules to admit @ visitor after the proper hours. Jt is more than I dare do. You must come (to-morrow morning. Bat what case is it ?” “Zam the sister of Theodore Varian, sir,” replied Ariadne, again bursting into teara, and Jeaping st the entrance for support. “Ah! I recollect,” cried the governor. “ Com- mitted just now from the Mansion House—eh? Embezsiement and fraud—my friend Emmerson the prosecutor? Ah! young woman, it is a bad 237 case: your brother should have known better. There, now—don’t cry like thie—people will think I = ilieusing you, perhaps. Come to-morrow at eleven.” With these words the governor closed the door of his house—and Ariadne turned slowly away from the prison, weeping as if har heart would break. A few minntes afterwards a carriege dashed up to the governor's dwelling ; and & livery servant, leap- ing down from behind, gave a long thundering knock which raised every echo in the Old Bailey. The front-door was thrown open — the governos himself rushed down the steps—and, assisUng Lady Ernestina Dysart to alight, he conducted noted her with the profoundest — of zespest into his own drawing-room “I wish to eee my unbappy husbend,” said the lady, assuming an air of intense afiliction. “ Well, your ladyship, it is a leetie after the usual hours,” observed the govesmor, with his blandest tane and utmost suavity of manner: “but of course I could not for 3 moment think of enforcing the gaol- regulations in respect to your ladyahip. Will your ladyship see Mr. Dysart in this apartment 7” * No, siz, I thank yon,” respanded Exestiog. “It is in the gloom and drearinese of bis @ that he requires consolation—and thither I shail trouble you to conduct me. But I may as well in- form you,” she added, with a mysterious look, “ that I cherish every hope of obtaining s reprieve and a pardon for my anfortunate husband.” ‘‘T am delighted to hear it, my lady,” exclaimed the governor. “It is indeed an affair demanding the exercise of the royal prerogative of mercy,” added this gentleman who a few minutes before _ had pronounced Varian’s case to be so very biack. “Je there auything I cau do to cheer Mr. Dysart’s irits—anything your ladyship can suggest ?” “TI thank you most sincerely,” answered Ernes- tins, with @ smile so gracious and eondcscending that it quite ravished the governor, who was one pf those persons that consider the favour of aris- teoracy to be an inestimable benofit, and who would sooner lose their ears or their eyes than incur the displeasure of thie aaid aristocracy. “*Yee—I think you can do something to cheer | poor Dysart,” continued the lady: “and I shall not forget to mention your kindness in terms of gratitade to my unole the Marquis of Leveson.” “ What can I do to oblige your ladyahip?” asked the governor, now lifted up to the seventh heaven of delight. “You may cheer my poor husbaad’s spirits from time to time by assuring him that he is ecrtain of a reprieve and eventual pardon,” continued Lady Ernestina Dysart. “He will be more tranquillised and more confident by receiving such assurances from your lips, because he may fancy that when eoming from me they arp rather the expression of what I hope and desire than what I am certain of. Do you comprehend me 2” “Perfectly, my lady,” xoplied the obsequious governor. “I will seek every opportunity to visi Mr. Dysart for a few moments, and will hint my conviction that he has nothing to apprehend, but everything to hope.” “You may do this with the greatest confidence, I can assure you,” said Ernestina, inwardly rejoic ing at the ease with which the man’s sycophancy made him her tool in the matter: then, appi- ep LR COMM (C NOG) SS ne CO