The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 381: what you’re looking at

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366 THE MYSTERIES he knew where she lived. His reply was that he did not even know whether she was in London. I remained fretting, and fidgetting, and chafing at | Dover, not knowing what on earth to do. At last, as I tell you, the Dover paper of some weeks back, containing the account of that business, fell into my hands; then I saw at once that Elizabeth was the female highwayman who stopped Marlow and Mal. | ton, and that she lived somewhere near Edmonton. So I came up to London to-day—and have only just | consult together.” “Do you happen to have the Dover paper about you?” asked Petersfield: “for I know no more of Marlow’s adventure than what he told me at the time.” “Yes—here it is,” producing the journal. Lord Petersfield took ‘it and commenced reading at the column indicated by the Baronet: but as he continued the perusal, his features began to express a growing amazement; and suddenly rapping his clenched hand upon the table, he ejaculated, “ Then, by heaven, it was she!” . “What do you mean?” asked the Baronet has- tily. “‘T mean that Elizabeth has been here—that she has paid a visit to this house,” responded Lord Pe- tersfield in consternation. ‘ I never could fancy what the meaning of that strange creature’s intru- sion could be. I set her down as mad: Marlow never happened to describe her person to me——~” “ But did you not recollect her ?” inquired Sir John. “IT never saw her since her earliest childhooa,” answered the nobleman. “ When I took Frank to school at Southampton, I carefully dvoided seeing Elizabeth. She was then sixteen: and therefore if she had seen me, she would have remembered me again—which I was naturally anxious to avoid. Ah! this isindeed most threatening. What could she have come hither for? I can’t make it out. It was assuredly she. The description in this news- paper is life-like—handsome but largely chiselled features—full lips, somewhat coarse and richly red —teeth white as ivory—olive complexion—a some- what bold and hardy gaze—a voice strong, but not harsh, and with flute-like tones——Yes, to be sure, it is the same! it is beyond all doubt!” “But upon what pretence did she come?” de- manded the Baronet. ‘ Consider—reflect! You must tax your memory: it is important we should know. It may enable us to form an idea of the extent of the clue which she possesses.” “Ah! a suspicion strikes me,” ejaculated Peters- field. ‘On that very same day, I recollect full well now, her brother Frank was here; and he hap- pened to see that portrait of Lady Everton which was published in the Court Beauties. Stop a mo-— ment!” With these words Lord Petersfield hurried from the room: but in less than a minute he returned, holding a book open in his hand ;—and advancing | up to the Baronet, he showed him where a leaf. had been abstracted, exclaiming, “ Yes—it is | gone !” | “Then rest assured, my lord,” replied Sir John | Marston, “that they are thoroughly upon the right brack ; and having discovered who their mother is, | returned Sir John Marston; _— ee | ee So. terrific exposure. arrived. My first visit is paid to you, that we may | OF THE COURT. they will discover all the rest. There will be @ And now, what is to be done?” “‘ What is to be done indeed ?” said Lord Peters- field, pacing the room in considerable agitation, all his studied reserve being scattered to the winds, and his natural feelings triumphing over cold artifi- | ciality. Becusa your nest well in various diplomatic services—and you can perhaps afford to disgorge. But with me it is very different ! what to do with; and if I were to give up my share I should be a ruined man. Indeed, it was only to keep the woman quiet and enable her to have enough to live upon, that I have allowed her this four hundred a-year for a little time past. I was fearful that if she fell into poverty she might begin talking to people of the transaction of that mar- riage—and thus one thing might have led on to another, resulting in the fullest exposure. But I repeat that if I am called upon to refund, I may as well go and drown myself afterwards.” “ Yes—what is to be done?” repeated the Ba- | “ You are rich, my lord—you have feathered | I have no more than I know | — — ee ; “ Besides, the exposure! the disgrace! the damn- | ing infamy !” ejaculated Lord Petersfield. to God I had never done it!” “Would © “Ah! you were something like myself in “those | times, my lord,” said Marston bitterly; “too fond — of the gaming-table !” “And Lady Petersfield!” continued the noble- | man, not heeding the Baronet’s acerbic interjection: “ what a blow for her! she who suspects it not! she | who has not an idea of all this! And with her diabolical temper too Why it will be enough te make me blow my brains out !” “‘ A pretty couple we shall be, then!” said Marston, with that bitter mocking laugh in which despair sometimes breaks forth: “I to drown myself—you to blow your brains out! But what is to be done? It is no use your walking up and down the room like this. Pray resume some of your diplomatic cunning as soon as ever you like. The souner, too, the better. is—at a cottage near Edmonton. The report in the Fortunately we know where Elizabeth : Dover newspaper tets us know that much Now | then, decide. Shall we lock her up in a madhouse? or shall we do that other thing—you know what I mean ?” “Do not allude to it, Sir J ohn Marston!” replied Lord Petersfield impatiently. that.” “* But I am bad enough for anything,” Marston, “under such eircumstances, I tell you what, Petersfield—an idea has struck me! Let you and I go and lay in wait in the neighbourhood of her residence; and when she comes out, we will shoot her dead. If you are afraid to fire the pistol, Iam not. Then we will swear she tried to rob us; and the respectability of your name—your high po- sition — your rank—all w ill give a colouring to the statement. We may afterwards devise some means to dispose of the boy Frank.” “Sir John Marston, are you mad?” ejaculated the nobleman, becoming white as a sheet. The Baronet was about to reply, when the door | opened, and a footman entered, bearing a card, and intimating that the gentleman w hose name it de- scribed sought an immedit ate interview. * Mr. Gunthorpe?” said Lord Poterfield, inslan- exclaimed -_- ——» “Tam not so badas © EORNICLOO CS (E()