ComicBooks.com Register / Loginit's free!

Penny Dreadfuls, 1850 · page 267 of 397

The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 267: what you’re looking at

📖 Open the full issue in the page-flip reader →
The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 267: Penny Dreadfuls, 1850

A restored page from Penny Dreadfuls, 1850. Page through the whole issue in the reader above.

📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)

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

256 THE MYSTERIES OF THE COURT. for our refreshment,” responded Finette: “for I, tion; and he exclaimed, “Why, what ails you, knew not whether we should have to journey on | girl? You do not seem happy——” foot-———” “ ¥Vather,” she responded, with a strange serious- “Nothing could come more acceptably!’ ex- | ness of countenance—a seriousness which even elaimed De Margaux: “for I am suffocating with thirst.” “Oh! how glad I am,” cried Finette, with an expression of joy upon her countenance, “that I | piness should have had this forethought !” Thus speaking, she took out the bottle from the basket, and handed it to De Margaux. “T am afraid it is only poor wine,” observed Finette: “for I did not like to be too extrava- gant.” “Right, dear girl!” said De Margaux. “I have no doubt it will be good enough for me to celebrate in a long draught this happy meeting, Which has reatored us to each other.” With these words, De Margaux applied the bottle to his lips; and being in reality sore athirst at the time, be imbibed a considerable quantity. Finette watched him with a singular expression of countenance, — suspense being mingled with terror,—until all in a moment the bottle fell from his hand, and the remainder of ite contents poured forth upon the grass. Finette sprang up to her feet, and darted back a few paces as if to place herself at such a distance that the villain should not be enabled to do her a mischief. <A fiend-like expres- sion suddenly took possession of his countenance : he strove to rise from the bank—but he could not ; and with the words, “ Wretch ! treachery !" upon his lips, he sank belplesely back against a tree. “ Ab, it is the lesson which you taught me!” exclaimed Finette: and then she cried oat, “ Father—father—come |” In a few moments the rapid approach of some one through the wood reached the damsel’s ears; and her sire was quickly upon the spot. He be- held an unconscious form lying upon the bank: the first idea which struck him was that the man was dead ; and with a look full of horrified alarm, he glanced towards his daughter. “He is not dead, father!” said Finette: “he is only as that sentinel was the other night on the verge of the moat. The lesson he has taught me——”’ “What, Finette f’ ejaculated her father, as a light flashed in unto his mind: “is it possible But no! What does it all mean? This is not 2 “Yes, father,” said the damsel, quietly: “ this is De Margaux. Bind him—he is your prisoner— you alone have captured him—there is none to dispute your right to the reward—nor to demand a sbare of it. And it will enable you to take ion of the shop to morrow!” Finette’s father listened in mingled astonishment and joy at these words which flowed from her lips: and he lost no time in fastening around the limbs of the unconscious De Margaux the cord which he had brought. “ Now, Finette,” he exclaimed, half wild with delight, “let me embrace thee, girl !—and you shall never hear another syllable of reproach from my lips! No—you have atoned for your faults! For- sooth, after all, I am glad that it has happened ! We shall be better off than ever we were |” He embraced his daughter: but she rather sub- mitted to his caress than received it with satisfac- appeared to have something sinister and omi- nous in it—“I have done something which will for ever prevent me from knowing what hap- is in this life. I have betrayed a fellow-creature to the scaffold for the sake of gold. All murderer though he be, I would not have done this, were it not that I had an ment to make unto yourself. My conduct towards that man has this day been fraught with a of dissimulation and treachery which—all mar- derer though he be, I repeat—I1 am utterly ashamed of, and fer which I loathe myself. How- ever—yon, father, will now reproach me no more. The idea has been hovering in my mind from the very first moment that I read the placard offering a reward for that man’s apprehension. It was when we were journeying in the diligence—and when I was nearly driven to madness by your re- proaches. Oh! then I said to myself, ‘If I coald surrender him up to justice !’—Ah! the idea was then vague and shadowy enough: but it has been It is done, father ———the atonement is made—and you will be enabled to settle yourself in life. Hark! a vehicle is passing! I will retarn in a few moments” With these words, Finette glided away from the ce of her sire,—who was half astonished, half frightened at the singular } in which she had just addressed him. He was not however on that account inclined to abandon his prey; and he stooped down to assure himself that the cord was firmly knotted upon the limbs of the unconscious De Margaux. Meanwhile Finstte had sped into the road, where she stopped a baker’s cart that was passing. Into this vehicle the still inanimate De Margaux was conveyed; and when he came back to consciousness, he was the inmate of a dungeon, with chains upon his limbs. Ere closing the present chapter, we may bring this episode to a termination. Finette’s father claimed and received the reward which was offered for the apprehension of De Margaux; and he was enabled to take the shop which he bad so mach coveted. His business has thriven; and he is sow a man well to do in the world. His daughter Finette still lives : but she is only the shadow of her former self : she is pale, thin, and wasted. She is never seen to emile ; and she moves slowly and noiselesaly as a ghost about her father’s house when superintending the domestic arrangements. Her words spoken in the grové, were indeed too pro- phetically true. Finette and happiness have shaken hands for ever. The confession of Dame Roquette implicated several of the gang in the murder of the two por tilions and Lord Ooctavian’s valet. The wretches whose guilt was thus made manifest, suffered along with De Margaux on the ecaffuld of the guillotine: Dame Roquette and the rest of the band were visited with the next severest penalties of the lew; —and thus justices succeeded in overtaking all the offenders who were implicated in the crimes of the forest. COMME OOO cS) (CO