The Works of George W. M. Reynolds — page 220: what you’re looking at

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

THE LAST PLOT 203 has beguiled you with her treachery, who has dishonoured you with her profligacy, and who now meditates your death?” “Yes, revenge! revenge!’’ muttered Edmund, whose fiendish malignity of disposition was terribly excited. “Well, then, revenge!’’ resumed her ladyship, ‘ and at the same instant you consummate your revenge, you may rid yourself for ever of this demoness in human shape who seeks your life.” “Ah!” ejaculated Edmund, but again he quivered all over as he said, “‘ You mean, other that I must take her life? ”’ ‘“ And wherefore not? u demanded Lady Saxondale. ‘““ Ts it not in self-defence? If she attacked you with a sword, would you not snatch it from her grasp, if you could, and slay her therewith? And is she not now meditating by in- sidious means to take your life? Are not all the blandish- ments she lavishes upon you so many subtleties to lull you into a false security? Shall you not therefore be justified in tearing the weapons from her grasp, turning around upon her suddenly, and dealing her the death which she purposes to overtake you? ”’ “Would you have me poison her?” inquired Edmund, with a look of unfeigned horror. “Ay, poison her! Why not?- But no,’ added Lady Saxondale, more slowly, as she reflected that after the tragedy of Mabel Stewart a recurrence of a sudden death in the family might seem suspicious. ‘“‘ Some other plan must be adopted. But first of all, Edmund, tell me, are you resolved? ”’ “IT am, mother,’ was the response. “It 1s my only alternative, the only means by which I can possibly save myself.”’ “ You never spoke anything more truly. Now, look you, Edmund: the river Trent rolls deep near the bridge, and the banks are high. A female, if plunged into those waters, and encumbered by her apparel, could not scramble up the shore, if he who thrust her in was prompt and resolute in driving her back. She must drown, she must die. Noth- ing could save a woman in such a case. Well, even now you scarcely seem to understand me; you gaze upon me with a sort of vacancy, as if I must be explicit in every detail, even the minutest. Then be it so.” *“ Proceed, mother,” said the young nobleman, now quiver- ing nervously again. CONNIE DOOKS (C@)