The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 363: what you’re looking at

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

—_— see ee a ES ee I ES A a A EE a a eS ee - 6 ee Se ee O48 disappeared suddenly—and it seemed as if some xiant hand had piled the dark storm-clouds all in a moinent before her alabaster throne. The obscurity in St. James’s Square was now re- lieved only by the feeble glimmering of the oil- lamps stationed at wide intervals along the pave- ment skirting the houses: but the walk bordering the iron railings of the enclosure was involved in a far deeper darkness. The evergreens within the tron fence, a portion of which their branches over- hung, formed a black shade in one particular spot ; and it was while Meagles and Rose Foster were passing through this gloom, in order to make as short a cut as possible across the Square, that a man suddenly sprang upon them as it were from out of the darkness. So abrupt and violent was this attack that Mea- gles, against whom the ruffian had directed his assault, was levelled with the ground, where he lay either dead or senseless; and Rose, losing all her presence of mind in an instant, darted away scream- ing for help and raising the cry of ‘* Murder.” The man lost not a moment in profiting by the deed which he had committed. Rifling the pockets of Meagles, he possessed himself of that individual’s purse and watch, which he hastily secured about his own person: but before he turned to fly—and although the rending screams of Rose were echoing thrillingly through the Square—he bent for a few instants over the form of Meagles to ascertain whether life had departed. At that moment the moon shone forth again, and its beams falling upon the countenance of Meagles revealed its linea- ments to the robber, so-that, although he knew not who his victim was, yet he saw enoughot his features to have them immediately impressed upon his me- mory. At the same time he thrust his hand into the breast of the unconscious man and felt that his heart was beating, though with feeble pulsations: then, giving vent to the ejaculation of “ ‘Thank God! [am notamurderer yet,’ he darted pre- cipitately away from the scene of his crime. Meanwhile Rose Foster had fled madly and franticly, without heeding the direction which she was taking—piercing screams still proclaiming her terror; when, all on a sudden, she came in violent contact with a lady who, attended by a tall livery- servant, had stopped short in alarm at the rending voice of female anguish which thus broke trightfully upon the stillness of the place and hour. “ Good heavens! what ails her?” exclaimed the lady, as Rose, utterly exhausted, sank fainting into her arms. At that moment the moon revealed to her eyes the countenance—the well-known countenance— of Rose Foster; and an ejaculation of mingled joy and surprise followed that of alarm which had already burst from her lips. A word summoned the domestic to her side: and the powerful liveried lacquey, raising the insensible girl in his arms, bore her hastily along to a house close by. A few minutes afterwards Rose began slowly to awake to consciousness; and her eyes, as they opened heavily, encountered the light of candles. Casting a gaze around, she perceived that she was lying upon the bed in a well-furnished chamber, the appearance of which instantaneously struck her as being not altogether unfamiliar. Pressing her hand to her brow in order to steady her thoughts, she speedily recollected the incidents of the night ; So Oe Se en woe THE MYSTERIES, and, startled by the remembrance that the las! event had occurred in St. James’s Square, she flung a wild and shuddering look around. A terrible suspicion had suddenly sprung up in her mind ; and it was now confirmed most fatally :—for the chamber was indeed well known to the unhappy girl—and the never-to-be-forgotten countenance of Mrs. Brace was bending over her! A moan of ineffable anguish burst from the laden bosom of the persecuted orphan—and her senses once more abandoned her, * * * * * e * we bd * * In the meantime Meagles had recovered from the stunning effect of the violent blow which the robber had dealt him; and, rising from the ground, he leant against the iron railings while he recalled to mind everything that had happened. Memory performed her part actively; and he found that Rose had disappeared—that he himself had been robbed of his purse and watch—and that his hat had alone saved his skull from being fractured by the desperate assault which had been made upon him with a bludgeon or some similarly heavy weapon, the effects of which were still experienced most painfully. But what had become of Rose? This was his principal consideration; and, caring comparatively nothing for the loss of his purse and watch and the contusion which he had received, he looked anxiously all around in search of the young orphan maiden. Vainly did he thus plunge his eyes into the obscurity of the night: her form met not his view. In a hurried manner he made the circuit of the Square: still she appeared not. What could have become of her? Perhaps she had returned to his lodgings to procure assistance. Thither he repaired: but Mrs. Piggleberry assured him that the young lady had not come back. Suddenly it struck him that she might have fled to her own humble abode; and as she had mentioned to him the address of the house where herself and the Melmoths lodged, he decided upon hastening thither without delay. Towards Westminster Abbey did Tim Meagles accordingly proceed. Although he could not pos- sibly account for Rose Foster’s disappearance, and although he felt confident that she had not been murdered nor ill-treated by the same ruffian w'10 had plundered him, it nevertheless did not strike him for an instant that she could have fallen once more into the hands of Mrs. Brace. Hoping, therefore, to find her at the house in which the Melmoths resided, he hastened thither with all speed: but even when he had plunged into the maze of pestilential streets where crime and poverty herded together almost beneath the very shade of the sacred Abbey’s towers, he experienced some degree of trouble in finding the dwelling which he sought. But at last he succeeded; and ere he knocked at the door, he looked up at the house. Every window was dark save one on the uppermost storey; and thence a few feeble rays came forth—poverty’s un- mistakable rushlight glimmering ! Without farther hesitation, Meagles knocked— not in a commanding manner—but quietly: for he was afraid of compromising the reputation of the young lady by announcing his visit at that late hour in a way calculated to attract attention on the part of the inmates of the dwelling or of the neighbours. Several minutes elapsed—and he knocked again. » | O)(©Y6) (C(O) CSHIGO