The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 258: what you’re looking at

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

236 THE COURT OF LONDON Have I not raved? Yes, I remember that it was in those ravings I revealed the terrible secret which made you question me the other day. Oh, what must be thought by those who have overheard me! ” “Compose yourself, my dear Ernestina,’’ said the marquis. Then, hesitating not at a falsehood in order to tranquillize her, he added, “‘ Those who have been present at your bed- side when the delirium of fever was upon you attach no significancy to anything you may have said. In such a state of mind invalids give utterance to the wildest and the most improbable as well as the most monstrous things.” ‘“‘ Monstrous indeed! ”’ said Ernestina, shuddering visibly. ‘“‘ But unhappily all the monstrosities to which I may have given utterance were based on truth, terrible, terrible truth. Just now I said that I had received omens and warnings, and I have so. In my dreams have I beheld frightful objects. I have seen my husband draw aside the curtain and gaze upon me, with the halter around his neck, and his features all distorted with the agonies of strangulation. Ah! and how frightfully did he glare upon me with his stony eyes! How fiendish, how diabolical was the look of malignant hate that grew upon those convulsed features! O my God! it was ter- rible, terrible! ”’ ‘“ Ernestina, you will excite yourself,’ exclaimed the marquis, “into delirium once more. Do, I beseech you, compose your feelings. Tranquillize yourself, give not way to these appalling ideas.” “But they force themselves upon my mind,” answered Ernestina, bitterly. ‘‘ And what I have told you was not all. Not merely have I seen my husband standing by the side of the couch, there, in the very spot where you are now seated, but I have likewise beheld the dreadful man —O God! I cannot name him — whose outrage has reduced me to what Iam. Ah, the agonizing sense of that outrage will be my death. It was the most hideous of pollutions,’”’ and the wretched lady writhed convulsively in her couch. ‘““ Ernestina, you must change the current of your ideas,” said the marquis. ‘‘ For Heaven’s sake, let us talk of some- thing else.” ‘Wait a moment,” said his niece. ‘“ This thing is upper- most in my mind, and I must speak of it. Listen, then. It was one night, —I do not know which, for I have not connicloookKks CO