The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 322: what you’re looking at

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

THE MYSTERIES OF THE COURT. 307 I ee ee “Possible?” echoed Deveril. “I will give you proofs incontestible that the allegations of Lady Saxondale involved a detestable calumny.” “And these proofs?” said Florina, her looks proving how deeply she hoped that he might be enabled to fulfil his words. “They are here!” he at once responded, drawing @ document from his pocket. ‘ Know you not that I have threatened Lady Saxondale with an action at law for the defamation of my character? You look surprised! But of course she would not tell you this. Ah! if you knew all the wickedness of that woman——” ‘You will admit, Mr. Deveril,” interrupted Florina, “that as I am now receiving the hospitality of Lady Saxondale, it ill becomes me to listen to any aspersions that may be thrown out against her without adequate proof.” “Ah! you saw that I hesitated to place this document in your hands!” he exclaimed, still re- faining the paper: and he looked cruelly bewil- dered. “Take it,” he said after a few moments hesitation, “ and read it if you will—but I warn you before hand, that you will behold therein some- thing that will shock you in respect to one who is nearly and closely connected with you.” “ Heavens! what do you mean?” cried Florina. “You frighten me. To whom do you allude?” “Must I indeed tell you? Yes, yes: I see that I must. I cannot bear. your suspicions any longer —I must clear up my own character at any risk—at any sacrifice! Florina, prepare yourself to hear something terrible = “Oh! what new misfortune is in store for me?” murmured the poor girl, sinking back upon the seat whence sle had risen. ‘“ Of whom is it that I am to hear such dread intelligence P” “Of your brother—of Lord Harold Staunton.” “ My brother !”’ “Yes. It was by the cruel and artful—aye, the satanic instigation of Lady Saxondale, that he pro- voked me to that duel——” “William, if this be true,” cried Florina, bursting into tears, “how immense is the reparation which you ought to receive from me!” “Tt is true—it is, alas, too true!” responded Deveril. “That kind-hearted and benevolent gen- tleman, Mr. Gunthorpe, has succeeded in unravel- ling the whole skein of treachery. But by heaven, Florina, I entertain as little ill-will against your brither as it is possible for man to experience after such wrongs as mine! For your sake do I forgive him—for your sake will I clasp him by the hand yes, and throw the veil of oblivion over what he has done! It must have been under the in- fluence of an infatuation against which he could not wrestle, that he consented to beeome the instru- ment of that woman’s vengeance. She sought my life—she wished me removed from her path—and she found in your brother a too ready agent !” * But these accusations are terrible, Mr. Deveril!” exclaimed Florina, cruelly bewildered. * Read this!” she said, now placing the document m her hands. “It is the statement of an im- portant witness who will appear against Lady Saxondale, should she push matters to extremes and drive me into the law-courts.” Florina mechanically took the paper—opened it —and commenced reading. It recited all the inci- ar ee —-——— Be wes yn me ee SY SS | dents in connexion with the masquerade, which are already known to the reader—how Lady Saxondale went thither in a particular dress to keep a pre- viously given appointment with Lord Harold Staunton—how she had enlisted him in her service to provoke an enemy of her’s to a duel, in which that enemy was to be slain—how Staunton had next morning received the note containing the name of William Deveril—how he had provoked Deveril to the duel—how Lady Saxondale had subsequently repudiated the whole proceeding, ignoring every detail—but how through Edmund’s agency the masquerade dress which she had worn was disin- terred from the plate-chest in her private apart- ments. It was with a swimming of the brain, a whirl of the thoughts, and an augmenting confusion in all her ideas, that Florina perused this document. It was, too, with a kind of mechanical power that she read on to the end; and it wasalso with a mechani. eal tenacity that she held it in her hands. We may add that it was with an unaccountable fascination she kept her eyes upon a document which contained facts so damnatory to her own brother! Deveril watched her with the profoundest commiseration. Oh! it went to his heart’s core to wound her gentle bosom thus: and there was a moment when he felt inclined to snatch the paper from her hands and bid her read no mure. But it was the only means of vindicating himself; and painful as the proceed- ing was, he dared not arrest it. “You may deem me cruel—even implacable, Lady Florina Staunton,” he said, when he observed that she had finished, “in submitting this dreadful history to your notice: but what alternative had I? When last I saw you, it was on the same evening that your brother provoked me to the duel: you would not hear me—you retreated from the baleony in anger—and I felt that I was condemned un- justly.” “Ah, Mr. Deveril !” said Florina, the tears stream- ing down her cheeks: “you have indeed much cause to reproach my brother—and it is but too clear that Lady Saxondale is an infamous woman— that her tale against you was an odious calumny— and that she would not have stopped short even at the instigation of a murder to wreak her revenge! But, alas, I dare not say that I can give you back that love—that confidence ny . “Lady Florina Staunton,” interrupted Deveril in a firm and dignified manner—while his tall slen- der form, modelled with so much Apollo-like grace and elegance, was drawn up to its full height, and his short upper lip expressed the hauteur of of- fended pride: “‘ have the goodness to recollect that at the very outset of this interview, I said that on whatsoever terms we might part, [ could not fail to bear away your good opinion. You honoured me— you flattered me—you made me happy, with an avowal of your love some short time back; and I believed that it was sincere, A tale of calumny naturally excited you against me. I have now vin- dicated myself—and your good opinion must be re- stored. But if, during the interval which has elapsed since you avowed your love and accepted the avowal of mine, you have repented of what perhaps after all was only a momentary weakness on your part—if, as [ presume, the high-born Lady Florina Staunton in her calmer moments has shrunk rr lec eee - —— i - COMmMICMoolkxs (CO)