The Works of George W. M. Reynolds — page 393: what you’re looking at

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

376 REYNOLDS’ WORKS for the last eighteen months, was more astonished than even the marquis, because he knew how pure and upright was the tenor of his benefactor’s existence. He had looked upon him only as the slave of science; he could scarcely fancy it possible that he had ever committed a crime. ‘Doctor Ferney, and you also, Mr. Thompson,” said the Marquis of Eagledean, addressing therm both in a solemn manner, ‘‘ the finger of Heaven is visible in the incidents which have taken place within the last few minutes. It seemed destined that I was to mention the name of Saxon- dale in order to excite some particular feeling in your breast, Doctor Ferney; it seemed too, Mr. Thompson, that I was simultaneously thrown in your way in order to receive from your lips those statements which you evidently have it in your power to make in respect to a young gentleman who is known to the world as William Deveril.”’ ‘For my part, my lord,’ at once responded Thompson, ‘“T have not the slightest interest in making any conceal- ment, especially as I am even now ignorant of the use or value which the details I am enabled to communicate may prove to you. Indeed, all I know is this: that many long years ago I was with my company of performers in one of the midland counties. Amongst that company was a young couple of the name of Deveril, a steady, well-behaved, respectable pair, — an exception, indeed, to the general rule with regard to the profession which circumstances had compelled them to embrace. One day they were walking out together in the neighbourhood of some town in a midland county, —I forget exactly which at this moment, — when they were struck by the appear- ance of an elderly gipsy woman, who had a beautiful baby in her arms. The child was about four months old, and though so sweetly pretty, looked sickly and delicate; it was, moreover, clad in rags. The Deverils stopped and spoke to the woman, — who accosted them, indeed, to solicit alms. They saw at once that the child was not of the gipsy race, for its complexion was perfectly fair. They felt assured it had been stolen, and was now earried about in the arms of a mendicant for the purpose of exciting sympathy. They questioned the gipsy very closely, and the tale which she told seemed too roundabout and too full of prevarications to be consistent with truth. She vowed that she had re- CONNIE OO KS (E() m