The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 345: what you’re looking at

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

38 0st—“‘“‘és OOOO ULULULUUlUU!™~™~*” ~ ore 2 Eee me ihm mR he Ae Ce ee > Gein “GEE ee oe hee Ee eee Oe eee ee Eee earth to the joys of heaven. Her eyelids were ehut close, with the brown lashes resting upon the alabaster cheeks; so that she appeared as if she were only sleeping. The lips had remained slightly apart, affording a glimpse of the pearls within, and thus strengthening the impression that she was not dead, but only slept. The slight drapery which she wore, had settled in such a way as to develop the gentle undulations and softly swelling contours of her eylphid form: the arms remained grace- fally rounded, like those of one in a slumber, and not with the -rigidity of the last sleep from which there is no awakenirg upon earth ;—and the sym- metrical beauty of the lower limbs was likewise re- vealed by the plaite of her virgin vesture. Alas! that this should be the raiment of the dead! ; Sir Douglas Huntingdon gaxed upon her with @ sort of incredulity that she was really no more; and for nearly a miaute he thought she was only sleeping. He hoped so—and he earnestly prayed within himself that such might be the case. Yet the jonger he looked down upen that alabaster countenance, the fainter grew that hope; while the stronger became the conviction that she was in- deed no more! “ Yes—her spirit has fled for ever,” he inwardly mused: “the young, the innoceat, the beautiful has gone to that heaven which is her fitting home. She looks as if she did but sleep: and yet there is the absence of all vital colouring from those cheeks —and the breath comes not from between those lips. Her form is motionless, though not yet stricken with the rigidity of death. O Ariadne! I knew thee but for a few hours: and yet in that short time——-But this is childish on my part,” ejaculated the Baronet aloud, as he made a sudden effort to master his emotions: then feeling that his eyes were dim and that tears were trickling down his cheeks, he no longer sought to check the natural current of his grief;— and sitting down on the edge of the couch, he took the hand—the small cold hand— of Ariadne in his own; and averting his eyes from her marble countenance, he eaid aloud, and with a passionate outburst of ‘feeling, “I cannot bear to look upon that in- animate countenance, which was so lovely in its animation f° Then for upwards of a minute he remained in that position, wrapped up in the deepest thought; until at length regaining somewhat of his lost firm- ness, he rose abruptly—threw one last lingering ' look upon the deceased—and then quitted the - e_iiieee—™ 66 ee eee ee Oe ow @ eee eee — « —_2@ aes o ee room. On the landing outside he found the Marquis waiting for him; and in silence did they proceed | back to jhe apartment where they had previously conversed. “That young girl, Lord Leveson,” said the Ba- ronet, in a deep and solemn tone, * has a brother who will sooner or later come to demand an ac- count of his sister. Of me will he demand that account, inasmuch as I had written to him to state that she had found an asylum—ao honourable asylum—with me; and when he comes therefore to inquire for her, what answer ain I to give t” “You will not eompromise me?” said the Mar- quis, in a tone of earnestentreaty. “Can it not be averred that, rendered houseless by the fire, the damsel was consigned to the care of my house- keeper or nicoe, whichever you like to name—but Gr ees that she died of the fright produced by that con- flagration ?” “Yea—this tale must indeed be told,” said the Baronet. “And now let instructions be given for the funeral of the poor girl.” “ And what name is to be placed upon her coffia” asked Lord Leveson, inwardly rejoiced to find that no exposure was to take place. “What name?” repeated the Baronet. “There is no reason now why her real name should be con- cealed—therefore upon her coffin-lid have inscribed the words, Ariadne Variax.” “What!” ejaculated the Marquis, immediately struck by the name: “surely this poor girl——” “Yes—I know what is passing in your mind,” said Huntingdon, in.a mournful tone: “she was the sister of him the narrative of whose escape you have read in the newspapers.” “But her brother,” exclaimed the Marquis—“ is he not a fugitive? and will he ever come to claim his sister ?” “Tf IT can obtain for him a free pardon, for which I am about to interest myself,” returned the Baronet. “ Bat of all this no matter ;—suffice it for you, Lord Leveson, to know that I am inte- rested in the young man’s behalf. Would to God that it wore within the range of mortal power te recall his sister to life {” With these words Sir Douglas Huntingdon hur- ried away in a estate of mind such as he had never experienced befor CHAPTER LXXXVIL SYNCOPE AND TETANOS. Dimxy and feebly did a sense of returning con- sciousness steal into Ariadne’s mind,—slowly, slowly as the glimmering of dawn struggles against the mists of night in the eastern horizon. Whether she had fainted or slept she knew not: nor indeed had she the power to reflect upon the point—-for her thoughts were all in confusion—not painfully agi- tating in the brain, but in dull, numb, inert chaos. That there had been a period of oblivion she had something like a distinct notion: but whether it had lasted for days, hours, or only minutes, she knew not—nor had she sufficient clearness of mind to conjecture. But as the sense of consciousness came back—as this re-awakening of the intellect began to take place —she became aware that there was somebody in the room. She endeavoured to open her eyes—but could not. Nevertheless, she felt that the light of day was upon those closed lids, and that it was not a stupendous darkness that weighed them down. Amidst the dull and stagnant chaos of her thoughts, flickered in upon her intellect a somewhat brighter beam than the primal one of returning conscious- ness; and this new ray of intelligence seemed te enlighten her the least thing more distinctly as to her exact condition. She became aware, indeed, that she was stretched upon a couch; but after that vain attempt to open her eyes, she remained for perhaps two or three whole minutes without any farther en- deavour to move. Then hearing a voice suddenly speaking near her, the tones flowing murmur- ingly upon her ears without her being able to an-~ derstand the words uttered, she instinctively at. rr gy 0 ee >< Pe gS a a a i cS AP Ge EE —EE—_—————————— . oem merrell im Sia pI IF, TS CT CET ST I TE A —reeit — ee eee, COMME lOO© Ss CO