The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 302: what you’re looking at

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

THE MYSTERIES OF THE COURT. 291 whole proceeding was conducted with as much secrecy as possible. CHAPTER CXLI. A VISIT TO HRADCORS. Ir was now a period of renewed bustle and excite- ment for Christian Ashton: but ail the duties he bad undertaken—and which either arose from bis own sense of what was expedient in existing cir- cumstances, or from the suggestion of the friends with whom he was co-operating—were most cheer- fully performed. Cheerfully—yes! because it was in behalf of his generous benefactor that he was thue deeply, deeply interesting himeelf,— that benefactor who had given him a home, who had bidden him entertaip no care for the future, and who had sssured him that a fortune should be his own. All these things had Lord Clandon done for Christian Ashton; and gratitude wae amongst the most eminent qualities of our youthful hero. The reader has seen how he first became ac- quainted with the tragio history which so memo- rably attached itself to Oaklands—how he had read the newspaper-account in the library of Marchmont House in Belgrave Square—and how he had subsequently learnt many minuter partiou- lars from the old steward Purvis. He had all slong believed in the guilt of Bertram Vivian, atias Lord Clandon; circumstantial evidence had seemed so forcibly to substantiate that guilt. But he had believed in it only so long as he was in utter ignorance of the identity of Lord Clandon with Mr. Redcliffe; and then, the instant the in- telligence of this identity was conveyed to him, the epeediest revulsion took place in his mind, and he became as firmly convinced of Lord Ciandon’s innocence. Away went all circumstantial evi- dence !—scattered to the winde were all the facts which had hitherto combimed to establish that in- dividual’s guilt: for Ob! it was impossible that Christian could associate auch enormous turpitude with one whose life seemed so pure, whose heart wae 80 generous, and whose philanthropy was so noble. And then too, Queen Indora herself had entered into certain particulars which tended to etrengthen the conviction that Christian had now formed: and thus it was with no reluctance—with no fear of labouring in a worthless cause—that our young hero was at present devoting himself to such duties as the position of circumstances suggested. In pursuance of one of these tasks, we find him taking his seat in a railway carriage at the South- Hastern Terminus, a few days after the incidents we have detailed in the preceding chapters. He was bound for Headcorn—that little village in the neighbourhood of Ashford, to which the unfortua- nate Amy Sutton had retired in order to conceal her shame from the world. In acouple of hours he reached his destination; and on proceeding to the neat little cottage where he had last seen Amy, he learnt that she was still residing there. She was not however at home at the instant he called: bné Mrs. Willis, the farmer's widow who kept the cottage, at once recognised Christian and invited him to enter, In the course of conversa- tion be learnt that Amy had become a mother a few woeks previously—but that the offepring of ber dishonour perished at ite birth. I6¢ further appeared that Amy had since been very ill; and that only a few days had elapsed since she lef¢ the couch of sickness to breathe the fresh air. She had now gone to ramble for a short distance in the adjacent fields; and her return might be soon expected. Mrs. Willis informed Christian that the unhappy young woman had auffered even more from mental anguish than from physical malady— that at times she had been seized with fits of vio- lent excitement—while at others she had sunk into moods of the deepest despondency. All this the farmer's widow related in a spirit of benevolent compassion, and not with the whispering tongue of ecandal ; nor did she exhibit the slightest curiosity in respect to the motive of our hero’s visit. Amy soon afterwards made her appearance; and Christian was shocked by the alteration that had taken place in her. She was not more than twanty- five—but she looked a dozen years older: her countenance was thin, haggard, and careworn. He had known her as exceedingly handsome: he now beheld all her beauty faded ; while her toilet-—onoe so exquisitely neat — indicated, if not an actual slovenliness, af least a disregard for all personal embellishment. The animation of joy however appeared upon the unfortunate young woman’s features, as she welcomed Christian Ashtun. She entertained both respect and friendship for our young hero; and she was deeply grateful for the present visit. ““I have often and often wondered, Mr. Ashton,” she said, “whether you had forgotten me alto- gether. It would have been natural if you had; for the unfortunate and disgraced ones of the earth are seldom borne in the memory—unless it is to be thought of with contumely and scorn——although of theee feelings I at least knew you to bu inca- pable ed “TI have frequently thought of you, Amy,” an- swered Christian; “and it has been with pity, sor- row, and compession. You judge me rightly: I am incapable of regarding the consequences of an- other’s black infamy as the results of your own willing sinfulness. Yes—I have pitied you; and even if I had not this day come to converse with you on matters of business, I should not have suffered a much longer interval to elapse ere mak- ing an inquiry after your welfare.” Tears were trickling down tha young woman's countenance; and with a crimson glow upon her cheeks, she said, “ You have doubtless heard from Mre. Willis ” “ I have heard all that concerns you, Amy; and I have been distressed to learn that you have suf- fered so severely from illness. But on your part, have you received any tidings of the important events which have recently occurred in London ?” “Yes,” answered Miss Sutton: “my sister Marion has sent me letters and newspapers——”’ “Then you know that Lord Clandon is alive,” interjected Christian, — “that he has been ar- rested ——.”” “ Yos—and likewise that the villain Marchmons himself is dangerously ill. Ob!” exclaimed Amy, her eyes, hitherto lustrelegs, now flashing fire, “he must not die until I have wreaked some terrible vengeance upon him! It was but a few days ago COMIC OOOlK<S conn