The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 49: what you’re looking at

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

ener LP EE ST IES ee 34 THE MYSTERIES. upon all the misfortunes which have fallen upon my devoted head, I feel as if I were going mad— mad !” “Then accident has brought together the two most unhappy beings in existence,” said the com- mercial traveller. “But let us know each other better. My name is Page—and I am, or was, in the service of Hodson and Morley, Wood Street.” “And my name is Sir Richard Stamford,” was the rejoinder. one shortly, if my employers don’t rescue me from this dreadful dungeon.” “You spoke of meeting me the night before last at a tavern in Holborn,” observed Sir Richard Stam- ford, still hesitating to believe in the alleged sanity of his fellow-prisoner, but determined to put him to the test. “To be sure,” cried the commercial traveller, “ And I made some civil remark to you: but you turned away as proud as Lucifer, scarcely deigning a reply.” “There is some strange misconception in all this,” said the baronet: “for not only was I never in my life at the tavern which you named, but the night you allude to was passed by me in this wretched place.” : *‘And yet you are Sir Richard Stamford?” ex- claimed Page, wie increasing bewilderment. “YT have already assured you I am that most un- happy and much injured individual,” was the mourn- ful response. “When were you brought here, might I ask?” demanded the commercial traveller, “ Let us reckon by dates and days—and then we shall come to the point. The terrible events of Aylesbury took place during the night of Monday the 4th of January.” “ And it was immediately after those fatal occur- rences that I was seized—thrust into a covered van —gagged—and brought hither,’ said the baronet. “ As nearly as I can reckon, it must have been at about six o’clock in the morning of the Sth that I was plunged into this cell, where I have remained ever since.” Nevertheless, it was on Tuesday evening, the oth, that I saw you at the George and Blue Boar,” exclaimed the commercial traveller. “Iam sure I cannot be wrong,” he continued, in a musing tone. “ No—it was onthe Tuesday evening I chased you as fay as the Edgeware Road—on Wednesday evening I went to the Beggar’s Staff—and we may call this Thursday night for the sake of being intelligible, al- though it is by this time two o’clock on Friday morning,” “Then I ean assure you once more that I had been for some hours an inmate of this loathsome place, when you imagine that we met in Holborn,” said Sir Richard Stamford. “ But may I inquire wherefore you chased any individual whom you sup- posed to be me, as far as the Edgeware Road 2” “To speak candidly,” replied Page, “I was in- duced to plunge headlong into that mad freak by the reward offered for your apprehension,” Villain! how dare you make a jest of my mis- fortunes?” exclaimed the baronet, starting up in a state of terrible excitement, and feeling his way to- wards the commercial traveller, “ Keep off, sir!’ cried the latter, retreating into a corner of the cellar. “I did not mean to irritate you—I only spoke the truth!” “The truth!’ repeated Sir Richard Stamford: then, as a sudden idea struck him, he said in a tone of acute anguish, “I begin to see it all! The mis- creants Martin and Ramsey have vilified my name —perhaps accused me of deeds which it is madden- ing to contemplate! My good friend,” continued the baronet, exerting all his strength to subdue the agonising emotions which raged within him, “ par- don me for my warmth— and let us understand each other.” “ That is precisely what I most desire,” returned me CHAPTER XI. SIR RICHARD STAMFORD, Mr. Pace literally bounded from the damp floor of the dungeon as this name fell upon his ears: and with straining eyes he endeavoured to pierce through the intense darkness of the place in order to obtain a glimpse of the baronet’s countenance, But the night that prevailed there, was of that profound black- ness which, like the Egyptian plague, could be almost felt! “ Sir Richard Stamford!” repeated the commercial traveller, in a tone of such mingled amazement and horror that it startled the unhappy gentleman whose name had produced so unaccountable an effect. “ Yes—I am indeed the individual whom I pro- claim myself to be,” answered the baronet. “ But is it possible that my misfortunes are known to ou?” “ Misfortunes !’” ejaculated the commercial tra- veller, with a cold shudder. ‘ Misfortunes of an unparalleled description,” returned Sir Richard Stamford, in a tone of great bitterness. ‘ But although I cannot see your coun- tenance, there is something in your voice and man- ner which denotes mystery or misapprehension. Tell me, I conjure you, what you have heard concerning me—what the world knows or says regarding the terrible events at Stamford Manor—and what has become of those villains Ramsey and Martin ?” “You do indeed surprise me!” exclaimed Page. “But before we continue the discourse on those topics, permit me to inform you that my present deplorable incarceration here is all more or less owing to you.” “To me!’ cried the baronet, his bewilderment in- creasing. “ Yes—to you,’ answered Page, in an impetuous and irritated tone. “If I had not meddled in your affairs, I never should have encountered the mis- creant who has locked me up in this accursed place. But it was all through meeting you the night before last at the George and Blue Boar in Holborn—and then chasing you in a hackney-coach till you disap- peared in the Edgeware Road ” “Ts it possible that these wretches can have given me a madman as a companion?” exclaimed Sir Richard Stamford, in a voice too full of anguish to permit the slightest doubt as to his sincerity, or to allow the least suspicion that he was wilfully affect- ing not to understand the allusions and meaning of the commercial traveller. “T see that we are playing at cross-purposes some- how or another,” said Page: “ but with a little pa- tience we may soon get at the truth. In the first place, however, I canassure you that I am no lunatic —although it is very possible that I shall become << COMiICDOOOKkS.Ccon