The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 77: what you’re looking at

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ee er LL DLE | | | THE MYSTERIES OF THE COURT. a somewhat serious nature. In a word, it was highly important to the Marquis that he should regain possession of his pocket-book. And, after all, there was yet plenty of time for this restoration to take place: it was only six o’clock in the even- ing—and an emissary from the masked desperado might come by eight—or even by teno’clock: nay, if that were all, there was hope even up to mid- night—for the unknown chief had said, “Remain at home all day long on Wednesday and take care to have the two thousand guineas ready at hand—in- deed, about your person—and leave the rest to me.” “Well, then,” thought the Marquis to himself, “Wednesday is not over until midnight—and T shall not despair in the interval.” Having strengthened his hopes by means of this reflection, he rang the bell and ordered dinner to be served up. In about half-an-hour a luxurious little repast was spread upon the table in the Crimson Drawing-Room; and the nobleman lin- gered over it in order to while away the time. Eight o’clock struck ere he had the last course removed and the dessert placed before him. Then he amused himself with the fruit and the wine pleasantly enough for a couple of hours. It was now ten o’clock. Meanwhile the curtains had been closed and the lamps lighted in the Crimson Drawing-Room. The Marquis rose from his seat and paced the apartment with increasing nervousness. Was it not intended to keep the appointment ?—had the seal on the envelope of the pocket-book been violated, and the contents scrutinized ?—and was the restoration of the pocket-book to be delayed for purposes of increased extortion? These and a hundred other perplexing queries did the Marquis put to himself as he paced to and fro in the apart- ment. The time-piece upon the mantel struck eleven. He went to the window and drew aside the curtains. By the light of the street lamp he saw the beggar- man still at his post. “ At all events he does not despair,” said the Marquis to himself, as he quitted the casement: “nor shall [just yet! There is another hour.” But this hour passed away—and still no one came. Midnight now struck—and Wednesday was gone! “ Perdition!” ejaculated the Marquis aloud. “I have been gulled—duped—deceived—made a fool of! The rascal never meant to keep faith with me! Eternal maledictions be upon him! Andall my fine precautions are set at naught. In good truth, Lord Leveson feels uncommonly small at this moment !” As he uttered these words in a voice of bitter vexation, he filled a bumper of wine and tossed it off. “Yt is useless to wait any longer,” he muttered to himself: and he was about to quit the room, when he recollected the pistols in the vases. “I must not leave them there—and Brockman may forget to remove them. If any of the other ser- vants should find them, they would think it strange: and moreover, as they are loaded, an accident might oceur.” Thus musing’, the Marquis of Leveson approached the nearest vase: and as it was the one in which his nephew Algernon had discovered the pistol, it reminded him of that incident. 63 “He must have been astonished at finding a loaded weapon in such a place,” thought the Mar- quis,—“ especially concealed under so beauteous a nossgay! What could he have imagined? But little reclx I for his suspicions or his conjectures.” Having taken out the pistol from the first vase, the nobleman now approached the other one. He removed the nosegay—he thrust in his hand—and an ejaculation of wonderment burst from his lips as he drew forth a packet, which he instantaneouly recognised to be the one containing the much- thought-of pocket-book! Yes—there it was, precisely as he had last seen it, in the chamber hung with black cloth, on the Monday night!—there it was, with the seal of the envelope unbroken! To tear off that envelope and assure himself that the pocket-book was really inside, was now the work of a moment: and no disappointment was experienced! Wonder of wonders!—how could this have happened ? Instinctively the Marquis of Leveson thrust his fingers into his waistcoat pocket, and drew forth the Bank-notes, the numbers of which he had so carefully taken. The pocket-book,then, had been restored without the ransom-money! But whose hand had consigned it to that vase? The Marquis re-examined the porcelainjar. He drew forth the pistol: but there was nothing else in this vase—no note, not a written line or even a scrap of paper to throw a gleam on the darkness of this mystery! He rang the bell, and ordered Stephen Brock- man to be sent to him. * When you deposited the pistol in that vase this morning,” he inquired the moment the valet made his appearance, “ did you observe anything else there ?” “JT am sure, my lord, that there was nothing in either of the vases,” was the response; “because I dusted them before I put in the pistols and the nosegays.” “ Most extraordinary !” ejaculated the nobleman, scarcely able to believe that the whole was other- wise than a dream. - He advanced to the window and looked out. The beggar-man was gone. “He was only to remain until midnight,” mut- tered the Marquis to himself: then turning towards Brockman, he said, “The duty which I enjoined you to perform in your chamber, has been uncalled for. The truth is, I was robbed of my pocket- book on Monday night; and the robber undertook to return it this day for a certain sum of money. I have had an officer in disguise waiting in the street; and the pulling up of the blind in your room was to have been the signal for him to follow any one who should immediately afterwards leave the house. But the pocket-book has been restored by other means. You may now retire; I shall not go to bed for half-an-hour, or so.” Brockman withdrew, much mystified by the rapid, laconic, and somewhat incoherent explana- tions which his master had volunteered;—and the nobleman sate himself down to reflect upon an incident the nature of which however seemed to defy all conjecture. And this was the current of his musings :— “That pocket-book was not in the vase when the pistol was placed there. Brockman clearly eee im (EO) 0)(0)(6) (C S) (CO)