The Works of George W. M. Reynolds — page 384: what you’re looking at

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

FURTHER UNRAVELMENT 367 “ing together upon the invalid’s case. The marchioness was in the room of the invalid herself, the marquis was alone in a parlour, when Mr. Hawkshaw was announced. His lordship at once saw by the squire’s manner that some- thing of unusual importance had occurred; and Hawkshaw, with no more prefatory words than were sufficient to intro- duce so distressing a subject, proceeded to explain to the Marquis of Eagledean all those particulars with which the reader has been made acquainted in the previous chapter. His lordship was for some minutes overwhelmed with horror and consternation. He knew that his nephew was immersed to the very lips in all kinds of profligacies, he knew likewise that Harold had at one time plotted against his life; but he had never suspected that his miserable nephew was already a blood-stained murderer. The intelligence, therefore, though judiciously prefaced and delicately announced, filled Lord Eagledean with the most horrible feelings, and indeed it was no wonder that for some minutes he was totally unable to give utterance to a word. Profoundly did the good-hearted squire commiserate his noble friend, and he was more than ever satisfied with himself for having adopted this course of first of all communicating with his lordship ere taking any extreme measure upon his own responsibility. “ My dear Hawkshaw,”’ said the marquis, at length break- ing silence, but speaking in a broken and tremulous voice, at the same time that he took the squire’s hand, and pressed it with convulsive nervousness, ‘‘ you and Denison have acted most generously. Oh, that vile young man! Good heavens! is it possible that he should be so deeply stained with guilt? Accursed be Lady Saxondale, for she it is who has thus urged him on step by step from one crime to another. Ah, my dear friend, I can now give you some explanations which will help to clear up whatsoever mystery still envelopes that horrible tragedy so far as you are acquainted with it. The masquerade-dress, of the discovery of which you told me a long time ago, was worn by Lady Saxondale on a particular night, when she had an appointment with my wretched nephew, — the object of that appointment being to incite him to a duel with William Deveril. It has all along been evident that this dress fell into the hands of Emily Archer the ballet-dancer, who was the mistress of Edmund Saxon- dale. We may therefore surmise that she gleaned enough CONNIE DOOKS (FO)