Pickwick Abroad; or, The Tour in France — page 225: what you’re looking at

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

in" 912 PICKWICK ABROAD. nance had doubtless portended the terrible tidings that she was coomed to hear. “You did not see him yesterday, Madam,” I continued; “or, if you were so fortunate, he neglected your advice and my injune. tions.”’ | “TI did not see him, Monsieur Dumont,” was the reply—for she _ now recovered the faculty of speech—‘‘I sought him in vam. [I . called at ali his usual haunts—but he was not to be found.—If you ~ know aught relative to him, keep me not im suspense—Oh! do not torture me—but let me be made acquainted with the worst.” “Your husband, Madam,” said I slowly, ‘‘ went last evening to the Palais Royal—” << And lost his all—Oh } ! I thought as much!” screamed the un- happy woman: ‘‘and now we are beggarsbeggars—without a friend ! O God!—O God! what will become of us?” ‘‘ Alas! it is sorrowful for me to be the bearer of evil tidings— but—” “Heavens! explain yourself—my husband—speak, Su—my hus- band—is he alive ?”’ cried Emilie, in a tone expressive of the acutest agonies. ”« Your husband és alive, Madam—but—” and I hesitated. ** But what? Speak, I conjure iy i you come hither to torment me ?—speak—I am nerved—Oh! yes, tco well nerved to listen to all the horrors you may yet have to unfold,” she added in a voice of bitter irony, as if, in the midst of despair, she could dare to laugh at a farther complication of ills. “Henri D’Arly is in a criminal gaol!” said I, seeing 1f was impos sible to withhold the sad news an instant longer. One long—loud shriek issued from the lips of the wretched woman, and had I not caught her in my arms, she would have iallen from the sofa to the fioor. I summoned her attendants, and consigned my lovely burden to their care, informing them that I was the bearer of — unhappy tidings relative to her husband, and that 1 had chosen to~ communicate them in person, fearful lest the afflicted wife should have been condemned to peruse an unvarnished and wnextenuating _ account of the transaction in the public journals, or have been n= — formed of Henri’s disgrace by some ofiicious person whose want of feeling might cause him to speak in no measured terms. Havm thus explamed the motives of my visit, and partially accounted for the situation in which Madame D’Arly was discovered by her servants, I retired, and proceeded to the office of the Committee for the Main- tenance of Public Security. | ““Can I be favoured with ten minutes’ audience of Monsieur Vidocg?” was my enquiry of the domestic whom I encountered in the antechamber. | “Entrez,” replied the servant—and I was ushered into the presence of the most celebrated autobiographer of the age. | ‘What is your name?” demanded M. Vidoeq’ s somewhat ea ; ‘** Dumont, at your service,” was the respectful answer. a ““T have waited for you above an hour,” observed Vidoeq, shape X, his tone to become more conciliatory. i “You waited for me!” exclaimed I in astonishment, well knowing Eomicbooks.com