Rosa Lambert — page 238: what you’re looking at

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

ROSA LAMBERT. When I awoke, the gray dawn of a wintry morning was peeping in at the windows: I was again in bed—in the arms of the unscrupulous miscreant Haverstock. Again, too, for an instant did a terrific idea flash to my imagination—but this time it was not that of suicide: it was the idea of wreaking a horrible vengeance upon my cousin: I thought of murdering him then and there. But all in an instant a change took place within me. No—that was not the course which I ought to pursue. It would be a poor vengeance indeed, which would redound upon myself and send me to the scaffold. I must adopt another and a different plan. “You have won your wager,” I said, in a voice which sounded not merely cold, but frightfully unnatural even to my own ears; and at the same time I descended from the couch. ‘“‘ Love and vengeance have béen simultaneously gratified, my fair cousin,’ responded Sir John Haverstock. “ But how knew you,” he inquired, with a triumphant laugh, “ that there was a wager depending upon it ?” I instantaneously saw that I had committed an error, and that the betrayal of Alvanly would be complete unless I said something to produce a contrary effect:—and even in the midst of the deep blank despair which filled my soul, I had self-possession enough to remain conscious of my duty towards Gustavus. “ How knew I that you had laid a wager of a particular character P” I said, as I hastened to huddle on some of my clothes. “I will tell you. One day at Ramsgate, when you little thought I was nigh, I overheard you and the Marquis of Belmore discussing the subject which so nearly concerned myself. And now you comprehend wherefore I was so bitter in my taunts and denun- clations against your precious companion—and all of which were likewise intended for yourself.” “ And you will admit that it is now cleverly done on my part,” exclaimed Sir John, as he sprang from the couch. “It was cleverly done,’ I answered; “and I have no doubt you will receive with infinite satis- faction the amount of the wager.” “You must not fancy that my sister had any- thing to do with this trick,” cried the Baronet. “Tam convinced,’ was my rejoinder, “that there is as much difference between your sister and yourself as there is between the purest stream- let and the foullest ditch.” “Thanks for the compliment, sweet cousin of mine,” said Sir John, with a mocking laugh. “TI suppose you will tell my sister all about it ?” “ Before I answer your question,” I said, “have the goodness to tell me by what means you will convince the Marquis of Belmore that you have won your wager ?” , “TI bave already taken a ilo precaution to that effect, my sweet cousin,” replied Haverstock. “Perhaps you would like a word or two of ex- planation ?” I remained silent—and continued dressing my- self with a sort of mechanical coldness; and my features, as I glanced in the mirror, were rigid with despair. ‘Of course you understand full well, my dear cousin,’ continued Haverstock, “that I sent my sister to you in order to further my own views. | same glacial manner as before; 227 ‘She is, as you have doubtless found her, an unsus- picious, artless creature—just the very instrument that was needed for such an object. I trusted to the chapter of accidents to develop some plan by which I might achieve success. I thought perhaps that through Joanna a reconciliation might pos- sibly be effected between you and me after a while: because I did not then suspect that you were acquainted with the existence of the wager. Well, I came back to town yesterday, and learnt from Joanna how intimate she had become with you, and also in what distress of mind you were plunged on account of your brother. She told me that you had gone to a solicitor; and I cal- culated that you would take all sorts of steps to get the matter hushed up. I even foresaw that you would return home miserable, wretched, and exhausted. This was my opportunity: I had an appointment with Belmore: we were to dine toge- ther. I told him what I purposed: I told him likewise what he was to do. To procure some of my sister’s apparel unknown to her, was an easy matter ; and I trusted to the striking resemblance I bore her, and to the effeminacy of my own looks, fo carry out the deception. You see I speak frankly. Instead of being ashamed of that effe- minacy of looks, I rejoice in it, since it has pro- cured me this triumph. Well, I came into the neighbourhood of your villa; and ata given spot I was joined by the Marquis of Belmore. He saw me enter the house: he himself clambered over the wall and sought some concealment amongst the evergreens. At least this is what I told him to do.—* Watch the front door well, I said; ‘and if you see that I do not issue forth again ere all the lights in the house are put out, you may take it for granted that I have succeeded in my aim.’— Those were the words I spoke ere I separated from Belmore ; and there is no doubt that he tarried upon the watch. Now, Rose, you are aware of everything: and perhaps you will be kind enough to tell me whether you purpose to acquaint my sister with what has occurred ?” “There is one more question which you must answer,” I said, in the same cold voice and with the respond to your query.” “And this question, my fair cousin P” asked Sir John, who all along maintained a certain fliippancy and levity which was intended to express his satisfaction and triumph. “Am I to understand,” I inquired, “that you will make this incident the subject of vaunt ‘amongst your friends and acquaintances ?” “Really I am not so bad as all that. Matters which regard the fair sex, you know, my sweet cousin, are always sacred with men of honour.” “J am glad to learn that you are a man of honour,” I said, with cola irony: “because it is a piece of intelligence altogether new to me.” “You are bitter, my sweet cousin,” responded Haverstock. “But those who win may laugh; | and my satisfaction is so complete, that I can lightly bear all your taunting and irony. As for the question which you put to me, I have no hesitation in declaring that I shall not make a boast of this pretty little triumph of mine: though it is certainly an immense sacrifice on my part to deny myself so much self-glorifying pleasure.”’ “But your friend the Marquis of Belmore?” I “and then I will’ (EO)