The Mysteries of London; or, Lights and Shadows of London Life — page 216: what you’re looking at

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

Z10 THE MYSTERLES OF LONDON, | “« What news?” demanded Ellen, “who had been anxiously watching the window, which commanded the avenue leading to the house, for several hoars pre- vious to his retarn, for her heart felt lonely and depressed. “Where is Gerald? shall ] not see my husband ?” “In the morning, child,” replied the old man with his assumed kindness. “ Moreton’s condition is much worse, and for the present it would be dangerous for Gerald to leave the secure retreat which friendship has provided for him.” Despite the sinking of her heart at this intelli- gence, no doubt crossed her unsuspecting mind; she felt that she ought to be satistied with the explanation, and endeavoured to appear so. She passed the weary hours in writing to Fitzgerald, in painting her distress at the adventure in which she supposed he had involved himself, and expressing her gratitude to Heaven for his preservation. The letter, when finished, was entrusted to the rascal Prim. We need not say that the husband never received it. A lovely moonlight night closed in the day which first saw Ellen and her child in London. The pre- tended grandfather even carried his hypucrisy so er as to bless the unsuspecting victims of his treachery when they retired to rest—to again pollute the brow of the confiding girl with his oly kiss; the foulest, perhaps, since the one with which Judas betrayed his Master. 3 As before stated, the mansion was an old-fashioned one, entirely secluded in its own grounds, and the chamber to which the execrable hag who acted as housekeeper led the mother and her infant partook of the character of the rest of the building. It was situated on the second floor, and opened with folding French windows upon the broad leads which ran between the Elizabethan gables, for a sort of walk, protected with a species of balustrade at each end. In the centre of the leads was a large skylight, lighting the entrance-hall and wide stairease which ran round it. The apartment was plainly but hand- somely furnished; a lofty bed, with faded velvet A A A A — re ere ee tian glass, in a gilt filagree frame, swung from the | ness inlaid ebony pedestals of the dressing-table, which was further ornamented with japan patch boxes, scent bottles, and a china vase filled with the freshest _ flowers. To complete the mise en scene, a Prayer- | book, bound in purple and gold, lay open on the table, _ The room was so like what one would have expected to find in the well regulated house of a private gentle- man, that not a doubt crossed the mind of our heroine but that she and her boy were under the roof of Gerald’s grandfather; and the distress which her hus- band’s danger occasioned was mitigated by the kind- ness and supposed reconciliation with the dreaded Mr. Radcliff. They slept—mother and child both slept in that den of infamy and shame. The rays of the pale moon which lit the chamber seemed to linger round the heavy canopied couch like guardian spirits watching their innocent charge. A door creaked presently upon its hinges, there was a pause, then it slowly opened, and the infamous Lord Moreton, in his robe de chambre, With Tarquin’s ravishing strides towards his design, Moves like a ghost. Reckless even as he was, he paused before he yen- tured to approach the couch; perhaps it was to draw breath, or to give fresh courage for the unmanly a A nt oo crime he meditated; certain it was not the whisper © of his better angel which restrained him, for he had long turned a deaf ear to such admonition, "Placing the taper, which he held in his hand, upon the dressing table, he advanced towards the bed, and noiselessly drew aside the curtain. Ellen was sleeping with her infant | on her arm; its little hand had disarranged her night- dress, as it lay cushioned on its snowy pillow, which gently rose and fell with the exhalation of her fra- grant breath. To every well-constituted or manly mind her very helplessness would haye been a protec- tion—the holiness of maternity have thrown a shield around the slumbering victim; but the heart of More- ton was insensible to the nobler sacrilegious hand u the sleeper, wha h dream, opened she thought that it was but the continuance of the nightmare which oppressed her; but the of the now excited Moreton soon dacbems her, As he threw himself upon the loud scream the now fully a from it on the other. lieving the evidence ee smile—“the despised, the hangings, stood in’ the centre of the room, and a Vene- wan vas — <a REeh ~A aeR— ee 4 mm Inflamed by the sight of her beauties, he laid his wigan the coveel of She bed, when — been oppressed by a forewarning — her soft blue eyes, and awoke. oe eer with a "Lond Moreton |? she exahieel ately yet bee peer, Morviea, ube 9 Wamphent repays the insolence of hia rival—the a, he mistress,’’ “ Mistress!” sant the terrified girl; “I am a wife.” Amal che added train tht word would “ Of itz ld’s “Good | my triumph “Art thou 9 man?” she fran hath thy heart one pulse, one thoug at’s huma: What have I done, that thou shouldst c my woman’s smile to the deep blush of shame, b my young days e’en in their very: change day to ing the source of and of happl- and leave me.” a wilt said Door “after my debt is paid, Thou shalt find me a remorseless creditor,” Doubly excited by her kneeling figure, her dis- | hevelled beauties, and supplicating tears, the peer sprang towards her, and, despite her struggles, folded her in his loathsome arms. Her shrieks became ter- rific. Vainly the ruffian attempted to force her to the couch; despair had given her a 4 strength, and, despite his efforts, she successfully re- sisted, } “You strive in vain,” he whispered; “these frantic efforts but accelerate my triumph.” , “God will give me strength,” exclaimed the agonised girl; “even in this extremity His mercy will open me away. Monster! no, never—never!” For the third time he had succeeded in dragging her towards the bed, where, with a last effort, s . tore herself ¢rom his blistering grasp, and, with action quick as thought, dashed open the window leading to the leads; in an instant she was upon them, the ravisher following on her steps. With tk speed of the startled doe she rushed along the na in the centre of which the fatal sky-light we before described was situated; in her terror she neither sa nor thought of it. “Stop!” frantically exclaimed the peers “thes light! God— On bool s.com —