The Mysteries of London; or, Lights and Shadows of London Life — page 360: what you’re looking at

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

me mee oe ee ee ee. 358 loathing and contempt; they could have forgiven him the seduetion, but despised him for the plunder. To add to his mortification, Nancy was ia the house with Sir Henry Stringer, whose attachment augmented to- wards her every day. During the time she had been under his protection, masters of eminence had been engeged to cultivate her natural talents; the baronet maiked their develop nent with intenss pleasure, and often caught himself sighing when he thought that the errors into which she had been betrayed rendered it impossible he should marry her. For the first time she wore that evening a magnifi- cent diamond necklaces which her lover had presented her. Faddle observed it, and his eyes sparkled with jealousy and rage; for, as faras his nature permitted him, his mercenary heart had been attached to Nancy. On leaving the theatra he stood behind one of the columns to watch her into her carriage. “You will be with me in the morning, then?” he heard her say to her companion, as he bade her fare- — ——— ee —eeee well, business concerning a friend having detained him. “As soon as possible,” replied the baronet; “but you need not be under the least alarm.” “Oh, it is not that. Though the room in which 1 sleep is so far removed from the servants, and the entrance so close to the ground, I have no fear of robbers. It is your society I want.” A kiss followed, which sent a pang through Faddle’s' heart, and the carriage drove off, An idea suddenly struck him, Thediamonds upon her neck were, at the least, worth a thousand pounds. What was to prevent him from becoming possessed of them? Her own words indicated the means; her window was low, and the servants slept at a distance, His mind was made up, and he hastily returned home. Search- ing Dick’s apartment, he found an old jacket, which his late servant had used for working in, and left either from haste or not deeming it worth the trenble of removing. Disguising himself as well as he conld with it, he eautiously left the house, and after walking a considerable distance, took a cab, and drove tow ards the villa. He was perfectly acquainted with the grounds and plan of the house, having repeatedly dined there while on terms of intimacy with the baronet. One light alone was visible from the house; he well knew that it gleamed from Nancy’s window. Merning was just beginning to dawn before he ventured to commence operations, By means of the gardener’s ladder, which he found in the tool-honse, he cautiously reached the window, and peering in, eaw that the woman, whose head had often been pillowed upon his shoulder, was asleep; one arm thrown carelessly upon the coverlid, the other crossed npon her breast. With his diamond ring he care- fully removed a pane of glass, and opening the window, which was a French one, stepped into the chamber. His first care was to secure the jewels, which he found in the case. Thrusting them into hia pocket, he turned towards the couch with a ferocious joy, and gazed upon the sleeper, now com- pletely in his power. Once more he was resolved to possess her person; by her own consent, if possible—if not, by proceeding to the last extremity which brutal passion and violence’can urge. Placing his hand in & position so as te be ready to step her cries, he gently woke\her. Nancy, started from a pleasing dream, was horror-stricken when she beheld a man | was so unlike the elegant libertine, that all attributed | by the side of her bed. She would have cried ont, but his hand was in an instant pressed upen her mouth, ; =~ THE MYSTERIES OF LONDON. | woman’s feeling in my heart, crushed, and trampled | man who had driven him came forward voluntarily, “Silence!” he said. “I don’t want to harm yo but I must speak with you before I leave England for ever. Promise to be calm, and I'll remove my hand,” The promise was conveyed by a look. The ruffian kept his word. “You loved me once, Nancy.” | “T did,” sobbed the unhappy girl, whe immediately recognised him, “till you cast me off, insulted every on me. Do you wonder that love was destroyed in the wreck?” * And yet I loved yon,” said the villain, “ madly, traly, better than I ever loved any being, save one, in the world, You are incredulous?” “Men do not soll the thing they love, or drive it hastily from them.”’ “And yet I love you. Come, Nancy,” he said, “one last kiss—one last embrace, I could not quit you without seeing you once more before I leave England a ruined map, to seek for fortune in a strange land.” | “ Never!” shrieked the girl, half springing from the bed. “I willnot be a second time degraded,” “ There is no degradation in love.” “Love! say rather passion. My heart was re- covering from its shock—its sufferings; why cloud my youthful days again? Hear me, Faddle: I have money—jewels; take them—l'll give them freely— but as you are a man, abuse not my weakness—crush me not in your passion. Be generous.” “Ay,” said the ruffian, “ as generous as the world has been to me, I have sworn once more to possess you, and I’ll keep my word; by your own consent, if possible—if not, by force.” “Never! ’ *‘ We shall see.’” He sprang upon the bed, and desperate was the struggle which ensued before the villain could accom- plish his detestable triumph over woman’s weakness. and resistance. He did, however, accomplish it. When he removed the pillow which he had held over her month to stifle her cries, Nancy was a corse, Then fell that vague terror upon his heart which haunts the murderer. In every breath he heard a step. He fied from the house, cursed and abandoned, like Cain. The image of the woman he had so cruelly deserted and betrayed was ever before him. Her eyes haunted him; he saw them in the air, fixed in re- proach uponhim, In every thing he encountered he recognised the features of his victim. The canker of remorse—the worm which never dies—was in his heart; its fire on his brain. Without returning to his lodgings to change his dress, or make the least prepa- ration for his departure, he wandered all the day in the low neighbourhood of Wapping, waiting for the means of an escape to France. | It would require an eloquent pen to describe the agony of Sir Henry when, on entering the chamber of his mistress at a late hour, full of the ardour of love, and its impatience to clasp the object of it, he fuund |~ her a corse. The couch, as well as her person, bore | evidence of the nature of the outrage she had been subjected to. The unhappy baronet tore his hair, | and raved like a madman. The police were sent for —rewards offered—servants questioned—no clue eg to be obtained. Faddle was unsuspected, The and described the person who had engaged him. It | the deed te some common houssbreaker ; none sus- pected private vengeance—S0) iit ChookssGo