The Works of George W. M. Reynolds — page 215: what you’re looking at

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

198 THE COURT OF LONDON by Mrs. Roberts. He opened the door noiselessly, took the candle in his hand, and proceeded stealthily along the passage. The boards creaked under his feet, the light threw strange shadows upon the wall, and Jocelyn felt, not as if he were threatened by any danger, but as if he were doing something that was wrong. It was a feeling of uneasiness perfectly intelhgible and natural under the circumstances. On reaching the end of the passage, he suddenly found himself placed in an awkward dilemma, for there were two doors fronting him, and he knew not which to choose. He examined both the doors carefully, in order to ascertain if a light glimmered through the keyhole of either; but no, all was darkness. He stooped down and peeped, he likewise listened at each keyhole, but darkness and silence seemed to reign within either apartment. What was he to do? Should he retrace his steps to his own chamber and return presently? Or had the lady been deceiving him? And now, for the first time, did it occur to Loftus that some treachery might be intended him. Yet how and what? No, it could not be. The lady had not thrown herself in his way to seduce him to that house. Their meeting had been purely acci- dental, and therefore was it unlikely indeed that chance had thus led him through such a train of circumstances into any net previously spread to enmesh him. All these reflections passed rapidly through Jocelyn’s mind in less than a minute, and reassured by the conclusion to which he came, he resolved upon pushing the present adventure to the end. He accordingly opened one of the doors at a venture, and walked into the room with which it communicated. No one was there, and Jocelyn was imme- diately about to retreat, when, perceiving a number of im- plements used in chemical pursuits, he was impelled by a feeling of curiosity to pause for an instant and take a closer survey of that apartment. It was not large, had no appear- ance of a drawing-room, and therefore could not be the one to which Mrs. Roberts had alluded. Indeed, it resembled an alchemist’s study, save and except that the furnace inseparable from such a place was not there. A gloomy- looking apartment was it, with these implements of fantastic shapes scattered about, a huge volume, secured with dingy brazen clasps, lying on the floor, and large cupboards occu- pying the deep recesses, all serving to conjure up ideas of CORNICE KOO KSA.COT A