The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 169: what you’re looking at

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I LY SO PGS OLED TIC a tt SE eR ee a EE EF CE ee EES OG ees THE MYSTERIES OF THE COURT. of this charming creature, as there is between the uncouth cart-horse and the thorough-bred. The parish clerk was leaning against the railings in front of the house, his hat cocked over his left ear—his white cravat loosened and in disorder— and his lips giving forth incoherent mutterings, in which the words “ vestry” —“ hundredth psalm’’— “ praise ana glory,” blended with an oath or two, were alone intelligible, “T am sorry,” said Christian, lifting his hat to the young creature whose beauty so ravished, him, “that you should be compelled to gaze on such a spectacle as this.” The young girl advanced upon the threshold— held forward the light which she carried in her hand—and now saw more plainly than she did at first, in what condition Mr. Chubb had been brought home. Her countenance, hitherto re- markable for its softness, and characterized by the sweetest amiability of look, rapidly assumed an expression of mingled astonishment, indignation, and disgust: but suddenly bethinking herself that some answer was due to Christian’s courteous remark, she said with a well-bred affability, blended with the sweetest virginal modesty, “ And I on my part, sir, am sorry that you should have had so unpleasant a task to perform.” “What's the matter?” cried a shrill vixenish female voice from the top of the staircase: “ what’s the matter, I say, Miss Vincent ?” _ “Ah,” thought Christian to himself, “she is not, then, the daughter of these people!”—and he felt an indescribable and at the moment unac- countable satisfaction at receiving this confirma- tion of his previous idea upon the subject. “It is Mr. Chubb,” answered the young lady— for such indeed did she appear to be: and she spoke with an amiable sweetness, mingled however with a visible timidity and trepidation. “Then why doesn’t Mr. Chubb come in?” de- manded the same shrill voice which had already spoken from the head of the staircase. ‘“ And who are you a-talking to there, Miss Vincent ?” “A young gentleman has been kind enough,” she answered, “to see Mr. Chubb home.” “Oh, I understand all about it!’ cried the shrill voice: “ he’s drunk—the beast!” At this coarse, though really not altogether uncalled for remark, the countenance of the beau- tiful Miss Vincent flushed again, as if the natural delicacy of her soul were shocked at the woman’s grossness; and the quick furtive look which she threw at Christian, showed him how pained she felt at being thus seen in any sort of connexion with such low-bred persons. The youth, however, glanced towards her with a mingled admiration and sympathy, which proved that he felt for her— and that so far from thinking the worse of her for being in that house, he commiserated her on account of the cireumstances, whatsoever they might be, which had thus thrown her in the com. panionship of the Chubb family. Mrs. Chubb now made her appearance, in the form of a tall, gawky, lean woman, with a very sour aspect, and indeed a forbidding look. She was only half dressed, and was in her night-cap,— having evidently emerged from her couch, “YT am sure if I had expected this,” she ex- clauned, “when I went to bed, ill as I was, and azked you, Miss Vincent, to have the kindncss to 1638 sit up for him But see how the drunken brute is leaning against them railings! Isn’t he a pretty feller to stand up to-morrow and ask others to jine in with him in singing to the praise and glory of God? Why, he’ll have his eyes so bleared, and red, and blinking, that he’ll look like an owl in an ivy bush. Come along, do!’—and she wound up her tirade by clutching her husband by the arm and shaking him violently. Mr. Chubb, who evidently stood in mortal awe of his wife, was a trifle sobered by her presence and by the shaking process: so that he was enabled to stagger into the house. “Thank’ee, young gentleman, for your attention,” said Mrs. Chubb to our hero. “Good night, sir,’ said Miss Vincent, in the sweet music of her soft voice. “Good night,” answered Christian: and as the door closed behind him, he walked slowly away,— his imagination full of the beautiful creature whom he had thus seen at the parish clerk’s house. CHAPTER XXXII. THE BOX. PRECISELY at nine o’clock on the ensuing Tuesday evening, Christian Ashton arrived in a cab at Ma- dame Angelique’s establishment. He alighted; and entering the shop, which was not as yet closed, gaye his name to Madame Angelique’s Irench deputy, who was behind the counter. ‘he woman seemed at once to understand what she had to do; and in her broken English, she informed Christian that if he would return to the cab, the box he had been sent for should be immediately brought ont to him. In a few minutes this woman herself appeared, carrying the box,—which was a large deal one, carefully corded ; and the key was sealed up in a little parcel, which was likewise consigned to Christian’s care. The cab drove away; and as the driver had previously received his instructions from our hero, he proceeded straight to Mortimer Street. Mr. Redcliffe was at home, expecting Christian; and the youth himself carried the box up-stairs to Mr. Redcliffe’s sitting-apartment. He received a cordial welcome from that gentleman, who also inquired most kindly after his sister. “LT saw her this morning, sir,” replied Christian ; “and she was quite well. She is however natu- rally grieved at the circumstance of my leaving town; because we shall be separated for a whole month. And now, Mr. Redcliffe, I have brought the box according to your instructions: and here is a little packet containing the key.” Redcliffe took the packet—examined the seal— and found that it was a common one, impressed by a stone that had no device nor initials upon it. He unhesitatingly broke open the packet— took forth the key—and bade Christian uncord the box. ‘This was speedily done; and Mr. Red. cliffs then said, “I have before observed to you, Christian, that we are engaged in an enterprise which will not permit us to be over scrupulous or fastidious in the course we pursue. It is better that we should be guilty of a slight violation of the sanctity of seals and locks, than tamely and PR COMIC OOKS CO)