The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 118: what you’re looking at

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

THE MYSTERIES OF THE COURT. 107 On arriving at the Chateau, M. Volney did not instantaneously repair to his study: but ho re- mained in the drawing-room to converse with his daughter and Zoe. He asked them to play upon the piano—he spoke with an unusual degree of tender kindness to Clarine—he was evidently striving also to render himself sociable to Zoe. There could be little doubt that this was the result of a resolve which he had adopted, and which must have arisen from the reflection that it was his duty to sacrifice his own feelings somewhat for the sake of others. Besides, he had promised Clarine that in future he should think less of him- self and more of her than he had previously done. In the afternoon the worthy village-priest called ; and on being asked to stay to dinner, he accepted the invitation. He did not take his departure until ten o’clock in the evening: the usual period for retiring to rest soon afterwards arrived ; and thus the ladies had as yet found no opportunity of renewing that discourse which had been inter- rupted in the morning. Bat now that Olarine had determined to make a confidante of Lady Octavian Meredith, she ex- perienced an anxious yearning to complete the narrative which she had commeneed and to place her friend in fall of all the circum- stances which regarded her love and him who was ite object. Therefore, so soon as M. Volney had retired, Clarine said to Lady Octavian, “If you do not feel any particular inclination te seek your couch immediately, eome to my chamber, dear Zoe, for balf-an-hour; and I will conclude the history which my father’s presence interrupted in the morning.” Zoe at once signified her readiness to comply with this requeet, which was indeed quite in ac- cordance with the promptings of her own ouriosity ; and she added, “I will first dismies my maid for the night, and in s few minutes I will join you in your chamber.” The ladies now temporarily separated,—repair- ing to their own rooms. Zoe dispensed with the attendance of the maid whose turn it was to minister unto her; and shortly after the abigail had retired, she issued forth from her chamber. As that very instant she beheld a form—the form of a man— emerge from the door of the oratorio; and at this sudden apparition a cry of terror thrilled from Lady Octavian’s lips. She staggered as if about to fall : the individual whose presence had thus startled her, and who fora single instant had stood utterly irresolute how to act, bounded forward and caught her in his arms. ‘For heaven’s sake, compose yourself!” he said in the low quick voice of intensest anxiety. “Compose yourself, I beseech you |” At that moment Clarine rushed forth from her chamber ; and clasping her hands in wild terror, she said in a hasty excited whisper, ‘Ob, this im- prudence—this madness, after all that I have written to you !” But now another door opened higher up the passage; and M. Volney hurried forth with a light in his hand. A piercing shriek burst from the lips of Clarine—and she fell senseless upon the floor. Zoe--now completely recovered from her own alarm—sprang forward to raise her friend up : but she was anticipated by the stranger who had emerged from the chapel———though a stranger we can scarcely cal] him, inasmuch as Zoe had by this time conjectured that he could be none other than Claude Masson. And who but he could have so tenderly raised up the inanimate form of Made- moiselle Volney P—who but he could have gazed with such deep anxiety on her marble countenance, and then flung such deprecating, entreating looks towards her father ? But what words can depict the ghastly horror which the countenance of M. Volney himself dis- played as he stopped short just outside the threshold of hisown chamber? Asif transfixed to tha spot, he gazed in frightful consternation upon this scene. The hight which he held in his hand, appeared to be illuminating the features of a corpse, so deadly pale was he—so ashy white were his lips. Zoe was horrified, at the same time that she was too much bewildered for deliberate reflection. All of a sudden it appeared ae if M. Volney re- covered his self-poesession: for he advanced slowly towards the spot in front of the chapel-doors; and he said with a stern voice, “What means this in- tzusion here P”’ “ Let the truth be told—yes, let it be proclaimed at once |” cried he who was supporting in his arms the still inanimate form of Clarine. “I love your daughter, M. Volney—I adore her! She loves me in return! For heaven’s sake let your ani- mosity cease towards mo |”’ “She loves youP” exclaimed M. Volney, with a sort of terrific cry that had wildness, horror, and mournfulness in ite accente. “ Wretched Clarine! wretched Delorme !”—and springing forward, he tore his daughter, as if frantically, from the Vis- count’s embrace. What a revelation had just been made to Lady Octavian Meredith’s ear! Ciaude Masson was none other than the Viecount Delorme; and how much that was hitherto mysterious was now suddenly cleared up! For Clarine’s lover was tall, slender, and symmetrically formed: a glance showed Zoe that over his boots he wore a pair of those list shoes which are eommon amongst the French peasantry ; and hence the noiselessnese of his steps as sho had seen him pass along the corridor: for that it sae he whose appearance had so much alarmed her, she had‘ not now the slightest doubt. We have said that M.Volney tore his inanimate daughter with frensied violence from the arms of the Viscount Delorme; and the anguished father was bearing her towards her own chamber, when the young nobleman sprang forward, and catch- ing him by the arm, exclaimed in a quick excited tone, “I know what is uppermost in your mind bat by heaven! you are wrong—and I can prove it!” Clarine now suddenly regained her senses. For a moment her eyes swept their looks wildly around: but instantaneously comprehending every- thing that had passed, she threw herself at hor father’s feet, stretching her elasped hands towards him, and crying, “ Pardon! pardon! 1”? M. Volney preesed his hand in anguish to his brow; and Zoe even fancied that a sob came from his lips. ““Yes—by her side do I kneel,” said the Vis- count Delorme: “by the side of this beloved one do I place myself—likewise to implore your par- don !”” « Riso—riso!”’ exclaimed M. Volney: “rise, I COMIC DOG (CO