The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 168: what you’re looking at

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

| _— --——— i THE MYSTERIES OF THE COURT. alarmed at being thus disturbed: Lady Dysart, however, hastened to reassure them as to the motive of her presence there ; and as they had re- ceived many kindnesses from her, during the short period of her residence at the Manor, they were not annoyed at being startled from their slumbers. “You must do me a very particular favour,” she said, when they were thus tranquillised: “and above all things, I conjure you to observe a pro- found secrecy as to all that passes between us.’ “ You know, ma’am, that we don’t gossip,” re- plied Mrs. Underdown. “No living soul has heard us breathe a syllable about the strange affair that took place here t?other Monday night—when the place was hung with the black cloth and the car- riage come with all those men “ Well, well—we don’t want a history of all that over again,” interr upted old Tom Underdown, testily, as he sate up in bed and rubbed his eyes. “1 was only proving to the lady that we don’t bother ourselves about other people’s concerns,” exclaimed Mrs. Underdown. “ Howsomever, [ll hold my tongue, and let Mrs. Bradshaw tell us what she wishes done. We’re both ready to serve you, ma’am, to the best of our poor ability.” “JT know you are—and I thank you,” answered Ernestina. “What I now require,” she continued, addressing herself to the old man, “is that you get up at once—leave the house by the back gate | as quietly as possible—and take this letter up to London. But you, must be sure and return by breakfast- time, SO that Mr. Bradshaw may see you working as ‘usual i in the garden: for he must on no account , have yeason to suspect, either this morning or afterwards, that you undertook such an. errand: for me.’ hat o’elock is it, ma’am?” inquired the old fae m “ Just three,” answered Lady Ernestina: “ about five minutes past.” “Oh! there’s plenty of time,” said Underdown. “ Where is the letter to be delivered ?” “Put it in the letter-box at the Police Office in Bow Street,” replied Ernestina: “and if there be no letter-box, thrust it underneath the door.” “The Police Office ?” echoed the old couple, in a breath: and they gazed up at Hrnestina with uneasy looks. “Yes—the Police Office,” she repeated, empha- tically. “But fear nothing. Keep your own counsel—and all will be well. Besides, you have done naught to render you timid or apprehen- sive——” “No, ma’am—certainly not,” observed Under- down. “But being privy, as one may say, to the business of tother night x4 “Not at all,” interrupted Ernestina. “You merely assisted in hanging up the black cloth— and then you remained close in your own room. With anything that took place afterwards you had no concern. Besides, the object of this letter has not the least reference to that affair—neither will it transpire in what may follow. Do what I tell you—keep your own counsel—and here are ten guineas for you.” “ We shan’t have ears or eyes for anything you don’t want us to hear or see, ma’am,” si Lid old Un- derdown, his wrinkled face brightening up mar- vellously at the sight of the gold. “So now Ill be off,”’ ‘ we ee -— -o- ~ Ernestina then quitted the chamber occupied by the old couple: and, retracing her way to the hall, she was about to ascend the stairs to her own room, when the sound of a footstep fell upon her ear. Heavens! if it were her husband, he would sus- pect her of some sinister intention—he might even murder her in his rage! . ‘ne colour fled from her cheeks, leaving her Be ay death : her heart was chilled—it seemed ice at the very core;—and her breath was hushed in Ayiul suspense, For a few moments she paused an listened: some one was evidently descending the stairs stealthily—and the mysterious visitor Jones flashed to her recollection! Yes—it must be he: for assuredly her husband would not walk about the house with such studied caution and noiselessness. ed Relieved by the thought, Ernestina glided into the dining-rdom—extinguished the light—and con- cealed herself behind the window- curtains. If it should happen to be Dysart, she hoped | to be safe in that retreat: and she was equally averse to en- counter his friend Jones, who would be sure to tell him, when next they met, that he had seen his wife wandering about at that hour. Thus Ernestina had a double motive for concealing herself in the man- ner described. Stealthily did the steps continue to descend the stairs—next they crossed the hall—and then they approached the dining-room. Ernestina’s suspense was fearful to a degree: an awful consternation was upon her. That the individual was | the soi- disant Mr. Jones, she had now no longer the slightest doubt. But what could he want ?—what motive had he in creeping about the house at such an hour and in such a manner? Was plunder his aim? Ifso, he would murder any one whom he discovered espying his actions! Such were the terrible reflections that swept through the brain of the terrified lady as she stood, rigid, motionless, and cold as a marble statue, be- hind the sacle. The individual entered the dining-room: Ernestina’s eyes caught the gleam of a light through the heavy drapery ;—but she dared not peep forth—the blood was curdled in her veins! “] hope the brandy isn’t locked up, after all!” muttered the individual in an audible tone, as he advanced across the room. The voice was the same which had answered her when she spoke from the window on the preceding night: the stealthy intruder was therefore, as she | had suspected, none other than Mr. Jones. He was no burglar who had just broken into the house: but the guest whom her husband had received and lodged at the Manor. And that voice—it again sounded familiar to her | ears! An irresistible curiosity, rendered more poignant by a vague but tremendous suspicion which had just sprung up in her mind, prompted her to peep between the curtains: but no pen can describe the awful sensation which seized upon her, when she recognised the countenance of the man who had dug the grave in the garden of the villa at Blackheath ! | | | | (S SECO