The Works of George W. M. Reynolds — page 115: what you’re looking at

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

98 REYNOLDS’ WORKS Rodney’s vehement averment of innocence and counter- accusation in respect to Mrs. Webber. She was consigned to a cell, where she passed the remainder of the night in a condition of mind bordering upon utter distraction. In the morning Lettice Rodney was placed before the magistrate, charged with the murder of Anthony Pollard. Meanwhile her boxes had been taken possession of at the railway station by the police, and some letters were therein found proving that her name was Lettice Rodney. On her own person not merely the murdered man’s purse was dis- covered, but also the packet of papers belonging to Mrs. Rayner. ‘The evidence given by Mrs. Webber before the magistrate was to the following effect: “The late Mr. Pollard was guardian to a lady named Louisa Rayner, whom he had not, however, seen for many years. This lady recently attained her majority, and was expected by Mr. Pollard to pay him a visit and receive the funds that were due to her. Last evening the prisoner came to the house, announcing herself to be Mrs. Rayner, and she was at first believed to be what she thus represented herself. She had a long interview with my poor master, and at about ten o’clock I went up to bed, leaving them together in the room where Mr. Pollard habitually sat. I did not imme- diately retire to rest, having needlework to do. Upwards of half an hour elapsed, when I heard the sounds of voices speaking very loud. I opened my door and listened. My ears distinctly caught my master’s voice bitterly upbraiding the prisoner as an impostress, and insisting upon knowing how she came to personate Mrs. Rayner, and how she got possession of her papers. There was a great deal of this lan- suage on my master’s side, and much intercession on that of the prisoner. I heard Mr. Pollard threaten to give her into custody, and then the door of the room, which was previously open, was closed. I presumed it was for fear of alarming me, and I thought to myself that Mr. Pollard meant to forgive her if she would confess everything. Presently it struck me that I heard a ery — or, rather, a deep moan; then the door was opened again, and feeling a certain degree of uneasiness, I hastened down-stairs. The prisoner was in the passage. She looked dreadfully confused on beholding me, and as I glanced in at the door, I was filled with horror and dismay on beholding a dagger sticking in my master’s back. I seized CONNIE OO KS m