The Works of George W. M. Reynolds — page 112: what you’re looking at

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

THE STRONG ROOM 95 her heirs —if she had any by her own or her husband’s side — from becoming acquainted with her death. Swift as lightning did these ideas sweep through the brain of Lettice Rodney, but ere she descended to put her project into execution, she opened the door and listened. Ah! she heard voices talking below; they were indeed those of the wretches who were at the instant deciding upon the murder of herself, but she could not catch what they said, and she fancied that the officers of justice were perhaps already in the house. Oh, then she must beseech and implore a private interview with Mr. Pollard; it seemed to her the only method to save herself from destruction. Goaded well- nigh to madness, the wretched young woman rushed down the stairs, and as, on reaching the lower flight, she beheld Mrs. Webber accompanied by two ill-looking fellows, her very worst fears seemed to be confirmed, and in her eyes the Burker and Bill Scott instantaneously took the aspect of constables. | “ Spare, oh, spare me!” she cried, frantically clasping her hands as she stopped short midway on the staircase. ~ I will confess everything. Oh, I know that I have been very guilty, but the temptation was so great. Let me see Mr. Pollard, and I will tell him something that shall induce him to forgive me.” The reader may imagine how great was the astonishment of Mrs. Webber and her iniquitous accomplices on hearing these passionately vehement ejaculations from Lettice Rod- ney’s lips. While, on the one hand, utterly at a loss to comprehend her, they nevertheless, on the other hand, heard enough to make them aware that she was completely unsuspicious of the crime which they had committed, and that she believed Pollard to be still in the land of the living, inasmuch as she was beseeching an interview with him. The three wretches exchanged bewildered looks with each other, and Lettice fancied that they were uncertain whether to grant her own prayer or to carry her off to gaol at once. “Spare me — for Heaven’s sake spare me!” she ex- claimed, descending the stairs, ‘and I will confess how I was led into this imposture.”’ “ Ah!” ejaculated Mrs. Webber, to whom these words were a revelation, “‘ then, who are you? ”’ ECONnNIEDOOKS (C(O)