The Seamstress; or, The White Slave of England — page 37: what you’re looking at

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

ar a re ee 30 he now exerted himself to the utmost of his ability to soothe his father’s still more troubled mind. It appeared that Charles had aided his two sisters and the female attendants to convey the wounded Duchess to her own chamber: but when the medical practitioners arrived, they ordered every one to/| a sharp knife, just below the right bosom. The retire with the exception of the eldest and most | weapon had been turned soitewhat aside by the experienced female-servant, whom they kept to | corset, along which it had grazed as it were pre- render the necessary assistance in their proceedings. | viously to piercing the flesh ;—and to this circum- The Duke’s younger daughter, Lady Mary, had been | stance she had no doubt owed her salvation from a taken very ill with the fright and grief consequent | mortal blow. The wound, though dangerous, was THE SEAMSTRESS. that the Duke was enabled to testify a sense of his son’s kind attentions and to yield to their influence, the surgeon came down from the chamber of the Duchess to make his report. It appeared that her Grace had received a dangerous wound, inflicted by upon the murderous outrage experienced by the | Duchess, to whom she was devotedly attached ;— | and Lady Clarissa was now occupied in attending upon her sister. These facts were communicated by the Marquis of Arden to his father;—and such, then, was the position of the ducal family within a couple of hours after the opening of that grand entertainment which had commenced so joyously. Distress, horror, and misfortune seemed to have entered that proud | mansion with the fury of a ravaging army :—and the genius of evil had chosen the brightest moment | to change to the darkest, and the gayest scene to plunge into one of mourning and sorrow. But where was Mr. Lavenham all this time P— what had become of him whom so many damning evidences pointed out as the assassin P When accused of the appalling crime and seized | upon by the guests who burst into the conservatory, he neither denied the charge nor offered resistance. The stupor of indescribable woe had taken possession of him, as the frost fastens with a paralysing chill upon the benighted wanderer in hyperborean lands: he said nothing—made no significant gesticulation | —and seemed scarcely able to believe that the thing which absorbed all his thoughts had really oce- curred, or was otherwise than a hideous dream. | But when those around had so far recovered from not so extremely serious as had at first been im- acined;—and the opinion of both the medical men was that the chances were in favour of her Grace’s eventual recovery. She had already been restored to consciousness, but was for the present unable to articulate a word, and would no doubt remain speechless for some days. Such was the report of the medical practitioners ; and dreadful as the occurrence was, there neverthe- less appeared scope for some degree of congratula- tion amongst the Duke’s friends that the event was no worse. And now the young Earl of Mostyndale evinced the generosity of his disposition by at once undertaking the settlement of the debt due to Mr. | Collinson ;—so that the sheriff’s officer and his two men took their departure from the ducal mansion. The guests then began to disperse rapidly: but their departure was signalized by a silence solemn indeed when compared with the din and bustle attendant upon their arrival. Carriages were waited for patiently in the order that they came up, instead of being clamoured for by voice after voice, as is usually the case in the breaking-up of grand assem- blies. The coachmen restrained the trampling of their horses to the utmost of their power: the steps of the carriages were not lowered and raised with the wonted clatter—nor the doors banged with the characteristic din. For every one remembered that the safety of the Duchess depended upon her re- the Duchess gently from the floor of the conser- | maining undisturbed ;—and thus did the separation vatory and bear her into the adjuining saloon pre- | of that brilliant company resemble the mournful paratory to conveying her to her own chamber,— stealing away of a funeral procession, rather than then did Julius Lavenham appear to start from that | the breaking-up of a grand entertainment. frozen state of feeling and that statue-like pretri- the first sensation of horror as to be enabled to raise faction of form ;—and, although no word escaped | camaen his lips, yet did he cast upon the inanimate | countenance of the Duchess one long and lingering CHAPTER X. look full of unutterable and indescribable emotions! She was borne away from the conservatory—and he followed with his eyes the form that was thus | carried corpse-like into the saloon. Then the crowd | THE FATHER, THE SON, AND THE ATTORNEY. No sooner had the last carriage rolled away from closing around the senseless lady and blocking up | the door of Belmont House, than the Duke com- the door-way, concealed the mournful object from manded the servants to hasten and extinguish the his view ;—and a deep groan of mental agony burst | lights in the saloons and betake themselves with all from his lips. In another moment he was handed | possible despatch to their respective chambers. over to the grasp of two of the Duke’sfootmen, who Beneath the air of mournful firmness which his hurried him down the steps into the garden: then | Grace now wore, a nervous uneasiness might have through the lower department of the mansion was been descried by an acute observer;—but it was he conducted, amidst the horrified looks and execra- | natural enough that his soul should be profoundly tions of the domestics whom he encountered on his | troubled by the various impressions resulting from way;—and, treated as a ferocious animal, he was _the occurrences of the evening. It was therefore thrust into a cellar, where he remained during the , with the increasing restlessness of impatience that few minutes occupied in fetching the police- | he urged on the domestics to finish their prepara- constables to take him into custody. | tions for retiring to rest;—and when the magni- Oe ms Eh Return we now to the library, where we left the Marquis of Arden endeavouring to solace his almost distracted father. In this filial attempt he suc- ceeded to a considerable degree; and by the time r= = Se ee ee ficent saloons, so recently blazing with light, were plunged in darkness, the Duke appeared to breathe more freely—as if he felt that he was now at last able to court a solitude congenial to his thoughts Comichbook