The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 290: what you’re looking at

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THE MYSTSRIES OF THE COURT. 279 in the year 1820. Perhaps you have some expla- nation to give on that point ?” Sagoonah hesitated for a few instants; and then she said, in the same cold calm voice as be- fore, “ I have no objection to explain that subject. My royal mistress procured numerous volumes ofan English newspaper called the Zines, and I availed myself of opportunities to read therein the history of the murder at Oaklands. It was thue that I was enabled to follow up the elue which I had previously obtained in India, and to understand how if was that the prisoner had eo long borne a false name.” “ Mr. Coleman,” asked the magistrate, “ do you desire to put any questions to this witness ?” “None, sir,” was the reply. “She best knows the reason that has led her to the perpetration of this black deed of treachery; and she may be left to the punishment of her own conscience.” These last words seemed to strike the ayah moet forcibly; for she gave a convulsive start—she gasped as if about to say something—and then steggering back from the witness-box, she sank upon the seat a little way in tho rear. “ Prisoner, said the magistrate, “have you anything to allege wherefore you should not bo committed for trial P”’ “I have promised,” replied Lord Olandon, firmly, “to leave myself in the hands of my legal adviser.” Mr. Coleman thereupon rose, and addressed the magistrate in the following manner :— ‘Sir, I am perfectly well aware that you have no alternative but to commit for trial the noble- man who stands before you. But I have already stated that I wish public opinion to be suspended until a better opportunity shail serve for the com- plete investigation of this unfortunate and intri- vete affair. Rest assured, sir, that if my client shall reiterate in another place that declaration of innocence which I now make for him here, i¢ te with a fervid reliance upon the justice of that heaven which may unravel those intricacies that human hands, if unassisted, cannot possibly disen- tangle. Onthe present occasion, sir, no more will be said on behalf of the prisoner.” The magistrate then formally decreed the com- mittal of Lord Clandon for trial; and the prisoner walked forth with a firm step to the cab which was to convey him to Newgate. Meanwhile Sagoonah had glided away from the court—availing herself of ean opportunity when Lord Clandon was again whispering a few words in the ear of the faithful Mark, relative to the manner in which he was to break to Queen Indora the intelligence of his calamity. We must now return to the Duke of Marchmont, whom we left at the moment he issued from the lawyer's office, leaving Armytage behind. The nobleman had not in the first instance arrived there in hie carriage: he had been on horseback to see Madame Angelique; and from her villa he had ridden over straight to Bedford Row,—his groom holdivg his borse while he was in Mr. Coleman’s office. On coming forth thence, he diemissed the groom, with an intimation that he purposed to proceed on foot: but it atruck the domestic that there was a sirange, half-wild, half-yacant ex- pression on his ducal master’s countenance. And well might it bé 20!—for the soul of the Dake of Marchmont was a perfect pandemonium at that instant. He walked on through the ad- jacent Squares: he felt as if he were intoxicated —yet without any of the exhilarating effeo's which wine produces. There was an awful consternation in his brain; and never was he more bewildered than at present how to act. There were reasons which seemed to induce him to fly from the eountry; and yet he had not the power to take any decisive step. He longed for some one whom he could consult—to whom he could tell every- thing—who might become the depositor of the stupendous secrets that lay heavy as lead upon his soul: but where was he to find such a friend? All of a sudden he recollected that his brother—his own brother—must at that moment be undergoing an examination at a police-office; and he experi- enced a feverish, a burning desire to ascertain the result. No, not exactly the result: for he felt convinced that this must be a committal for trial: but it closely concerned the Duke’s interest to learn what had transpired at the examination. He called a cab, and proceeded to an hotel in Covent Garden, where ho asked for a private room and ordered dinner. Oh! well may the reader imagine that this order was only given for form’s sake: but the wretched Duke of Marchmont was unable to par- take of a morsel. Food appeared to stick in his throat: wine seemed to suffocate him. He longed to ask the waiter certain questions: but each time the domestic entered, the Duke’s courage failed him: he dreaded to hear something terrible in respect to himself. At length, looking at bis watch, ho found that it was seven o'clock; and feeling convinced that the examination must be by that time over, he could no longer endure the horrible state of suspense in whieh he was plunged. He therefore mustered up his courage to address the waiter, who he perceived did not know him, inasmuch as he called him “ sir.” “Ig there not some important examination going on close by, at Bow Street?” inquired the Duke, with an almost supernatural effort to com- mand his composure. “Yes, sir,” answered the waiter. “They say that Lord Clandon has just been committed for trial, for the murder of his uncle, about nineteen years ago.” ‘“T heard something about it as I came along,” said the Duke, endeavouring to sip his wine with an easy nonchalant? air: but he again felt as if if wonld choke him. “Has anything particular transpired? YE mean did the prisoner make any eonfession ? or did he deny a “The proceedings were not long, sir,” answered the waiter: “only two witnesses were examined— the Inspector and a Hindoo woman; and all the evidence went dead against his Jordship. I be- lieve his lordship’s solicitor denied the charge: but beyond that no defence was offered. You perbaps know, sir, that Lord Clandon is the Duke of Marchmont’s brother P”’ The Duke made no response: he duld not: and the waiter, thinking that he cared no more for the topic of conversation, issued from the room. The Duke began to breathe moro freely; and he said within himself, “It is clear that without the evidonce of Travers they can do nothing. Will he remain stanch? or will he + will he betray a COMIC OOOlK<S conn