The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 64: what you’re looking at

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

Meee erence ee a aa Tae A SAO I a, speed of the lightning. Oh! my God—my God! what awful feelizgs took possession of me when I beheld that beauteous being weltering in her gore at my feet! Forgotten was her guilt, as if guilty | she had never been; and I remembered only that , she was lovely and beloved !” : | The baronet ceased speaking, but burst forth into agonising lamentations, which sounded dread- fal to the ears of the commercial traveller through the deep darkness. At any time and under any cir- cumstances it fs asad and mournfal thing for one man to hear another sobbing as if his heart would | break: but when those passionate expressions of an ineffable woe acquire a tomb-like and hollow into- nation from the caverned echoes of a dungeon— | and when they burthen an atmosphere as black as | the blackest night, the effect fs solemnly and mys- | teriously appalling. Page crept up to the side of his wretched com- | panion—and, taking his hand, endeavoured to oon- | sole him: but many minutes elapsed ere Sir Richard Stamford could so far recover himself as to bring his strange and terribly romantic narrative to a con- | clusion. | “Yes,” he resumed, in a low, deep, and pro- | foundly mournfal tone: “at that moment, when I beheld her lying dead before my eyes, I would have given worlds to recall her back to life. And I re- member that suddenly starting from the stupefac- tion into which the frightfal tragedy had plunged me, I felt a panic-terror come over me—an ap- | palling dread as if I myself had murdered her! I also recollect that Pushing wildly away from the scene of horror, I threw up the window opening on lawn, and darted madly forth into the fresh air ¢ the midnight breeze might cool my burning As if demented—or possessed of an evil that was raging within me—I ran franticly I reached the park; and then suddenly stopping and turning round—I know not under what strange inflnence—I beheld flames gushing forth from the windows of the dining-room. Re- soming the wild and unnatural speed that had pre- viously hurried me away from the Manor, [ flew ' back towards the burning pile: but scarcely had I | emerged from the park and entered the shrubbery, when three or four men sprang upon me from the dark shade of the evergreens—and I was over- powered in an instant. The wretches bore me a3 ‘Hf eonflagration. The vehicle rolled rapidly away pursuing the main road towards London; and having changed the horse twice at lonely way- side public-houses, it entered the metropolis just as the alocks were striking five in the morning. I was then blindfolded, doubtless to prevent me from ' even forming a conjecture as to the direction which | was now taken ;—but I could judge by a few instruc- | tions which the leader of the party gave the driver | from time to time, that the van was purposely pur- | shing « circuitous route. Finally, it was about six o’clock, as I have already informed you, when I was removed from the vehicle and thrust into this cell. { Since that moment I have been enabled to calcu- late the lanse of time by the regularity with which | the wretches bring me my sorry meals. Bat soli- SOI er, | fens the mansion, in the terrific light of the | tude—darkness—the terrific nature of my thoughts —& poignant sense of the tremendous injuries I have sustained at the hands of those whom I never injured—and the incessant contemplation of the wrongs that have been heaped upon me by persons whom I never wronged,—all this would have driven me mad—mad—had not your presence here this night given me a companion to whose ears I could unburthen my pent-up, suffocating misery! Oh! the malignant fiends—what do they require of me? That I should sign some paper with the contents of which I.am not to be made acquainted—and that I shal! consent to expatriate myself for ever to the American Continent, where a handsome pecuniary allowance will be made me. These are the terms on which my freedom can be obtained—these are the conditions which are proposed to me every time my meals are brought. Vainly have I ques- tioned the man who is thus appointed to attend upon me,—vainly have I questioned him, I say, upon many points which so nearly regard me! He is speechless save in respect to a constant reitera- tion of those terms to which I cannot accede. But now, alas! from your lips I learn that my fame is blackened—that my reputation is assailed by the seducer of my poor wife and his equally vile part- ner in iniquity. Oh! to escape—to escape from this dungeon, and invoke the justice of the tri- bunals to decide between them and me!” “ And it will be no difficult matter to prove your innocence,” said Page: “for the forgeries at the Bank of England can doubtless be traced to Mr. Martin—the cashier at your late establishment in Aylesbury can give sufficient testimony to clear you of any complicity in the misappropriation of the funds—and the fact of your incarceration here will show how urgent were the reasons that have in- duced your partners thus to dispose of you. The only points—and they are, after all, the most serious ——” “Speak, my friend—speak candidly,” exclaimed the baronet, perceiving that the commercial tra- veller hesitated. “1 was alluding, Sir Richard, to the—the—death of Lady Stamford and the burning of the Manor,” continued Page. “But I might as well inform you of a fact which I read in the newspapers, and which cannot possibly be known to you,—and this is, that the flames were speedily extinguished without hav- ing done much injury ——” « And the corpse of her whom I deplore in spite of her deep guilt-—. was that discovered?” asked the baronet in a low and tremulous tone. “The flames had not reached it,” replied the commercial traveller; “and it was discovered on the carpet, just as it must have fallen at first—with the fatal weapon still in the bosom. A Coroner's Inquest was to have been held yesterday—but I of course am ignorant of the result.” “ Surgical evidence may perhaps prove the mortal blow to have been inflicted by the hand of suicide and not by that of a murderer,” observed Sir Richard. “Let us hope for the best!” exclaimed Page. “Amen!” returned the baronet, fervently. A long silence then ensued in the dungeon. 80 S COMM COMNGCOOS