The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 387: what you’re looking at

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

is YiE MYSTPRIES GF THE COULT, ——— her a look in which wonder and scorn, uncertainty and hate, were strangely commingled: “can it be possible that you are unaware of what took place last night ?—has there really been no communion between you and Gertrude ?—did I not lock her in this room ?—and whether you were here concealed at the time, or whether by some means you penetrated hither afterwards, in any case must you be aware that your writing-desk furnished me with the proofs ot your criminality.” . “ That you are base enough to ransack my desk, my lord, is probable,” cried Editha, the excitement of the scene and the consciousness of her safety in- spiring her with all the presence of mind requisite to enact the part of outraged innocence: “ but that you discovered in that desk aught whereof I need be ashamed, I positively deny.” “By heavens! this is too much,” exclaimed Curzon, his naturally handsome countenance be- coming destorted with rage. “ The proofs, madam, are in my possession ; the note of your accomplice Lady Lechmere—the forgeries ——” “ Coward—liar!” exclaimed Editha, springing like a tigress from the couch. “ If there be forgeries in the case, ’tis you who have forged them! Ah! doubtless the trammels of matrimony are incon- venient to a man who wishes to pursue his own numerous intrigues; and therefore you seek to get rid of your wife. But no, my lord—I defy you—I defy you !” The Earl of Curzon now gazed with unmixed astonishment upon Editha. Indeed, for a few mo- ments he was utterly confounded. The tone of confidence in which she spoke, the genuine indig- nation which appeared to inspire her, the undis- mayed assurance with which she met his looks, and indeed almost beat them down with her own proud and haughty ones—all this struck the nobleman speechless and motionless. And, heavens! how grandly, how sublimely beautiful seemed the Countess of Curzon at that moment—no longer soft, languishing, and amorous like a dusky houri of Mohammed’s paradise, but bursting forth into the personification of Bellona the Goddess of War, so that her very beauty became terrible to gaze upon, aud the eyes that were wont to burn with the fires of love, now shot forth blasting lightnings. With the scant night-dress aione draping her form—her luxuriant purply sable hair flowing in heavy masses over her shoulders and down her back—her heaving bust all exposed in its glowing firmness—one arm gracefully curved, the other extended so as with imperious gesture to enhance the force of her language—her nude feet and ankles exposed ia their sculptural symmetry to the middle of the legs’ robust swell—her whole figure, in fine, seemed to realise all that artist ever fancied, poet ever dreamed, or sculptor ever de- signed in the form of peerless beauty vindicating its outraged innocence! But, Ah! all the glory, the magic, and the sub- limity of that scene sink into degradation, shame, and infamy, when it is remembered that Editha was really guilty, and that the part which she now enacted was one of consummate duplicity and exquisite hypocrisy. Fora few moments, we say did the Earl of Curzon remain utterly confounded —annihilated as it were—by the demeanour, the conduct, and the language of his wife. It was either the most stupendous effrontery that woman i i rs ee ee. ever yet had exhibited—or else, if she were inno- cent, was she the victim of the most extraordinary combination of circumstances ever known. But not long did the Earl of Curzon hesitate betweeu these alternatives. ‘Too much a man of the world to yield aready credulity to any appearances of innocence, avd too deeply conscious of error himself not to be ever ready to believe the errors of others, he soon burst forth into alaugh of bitter scorn, exclaiming, “Ah! I see how it is, madam: you fancy that in your prudence you have de- stroyed all evidences of your guilt! But your me- mory fails you—for whatever your intentions might have been, you certainly have not altogether car- riedthem out. Itell you that I possess proofs —~” “Then produce them, my lord,’ said Editha, in a tone of defiance. “JT will, I will:” and he turned towards the door. * Andif you do not,” she said, springing forward and detaining him by the arm for a moment,— “as a nobleman—a gentleman—a man—sha!}l I also say as a husband—it will be your duty cf “ Yes, to fall upon my knees and demand par- don for this outrage—these suspicions!’ ejacu- lated Curzon, throwing upon his wife a look of dark malignity, as much as to imply that it was perfect maduess to suppose there was any chance of his being compelled to humble himself thus. “Be itso,” she observed, in a tone of confidence, asshe released his arm from the firm grasp which her delicate fingers had fixed upon it. The Ear! hastened from the boudoir and sped to his own apartment, murmuring to himself, “ Now for the proofs that shall overwhelm her with confusion ! ” He opened the drawer—he tossed aside his linen : but the object of his search was not there! A chill struck to his heart, as the idea of some deep but inexplicable treachery flashed to his mind, Furious with rage, but trembling all over as nerv- ously as if stricken with a palsy, he tore out the drawer from its place and emptied all its contents on the carpet. But the paeket which he sought —that packet which contained Lady Lechmere’s note and the forged bills—had disappeared, No wonder indeed: for it was this same packet which Gertrude had found, and the contents of which she had burnt in her owa chamber. Yes— and this was the meaning of that significant look which she had flung upon her mistress when enter- ing the boudoir—that look which told Editha she was saved! Pale, trembling, and overwhelmed, the Earl of Curzon sank into an arm-chair and gave way to his painful reflections. ‘To believe that all the in- cidents of the past night belonged only to a dream, was ridiculous: but that he had been singularly, mysteriously, and effectually outwitted, was evi- dent. He had not a proof—nota single proof—of his wife’s guilt: and yet he knew her to be guilty. He had only just come from sharing her couch ; and therefore to dream of law-proceedings was preposterous. To create an exposure and a scandal by repudiating his wife on bare suspicion, and without being enabled to follow up such an act by the usual legal process, would be only to render himself contemptible as a jealous husband. Such were the thoughts that passed rapidly through the Earl’s mind; and perceiving that he 373 | sls sss =~ see oun _ eee COMMICLOOKS (C (CO)