The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 134: what you’re looking at

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

THE CATASTROPHE 111 Travers promised to obey his master’s instructions, and having attended Lord Clandon to his chamber, proceeded to his own room a few minutes afterward. As early as six o’clock in the morning — and therefore after only a few hours’ repose — the greater portion of the domestics were up and dressed at Oaklands. Leachley, the duke’s valet, reported that his master had not as yet re- turned, and expressions of uneasiness passed from lip to lip. Several domestics meeting each other in the hall were about to decide in which different directions they should issue forth, — not merely in search of their lost mistress, but now like- wise in search of their master also, — when a strange sound, like a low, continuous moaning howl, coming from without, reached their ears. None of the doors of the mansion had as yet been opened; the hall porter, an old man, having sat up so late, had overslept himself. The domestics listened, the sounds continued, and in a few moments they were in- terrupted by a bark, but low and feeble as the moaning howl itself had been. “It is a dog,” ejaculated one. ‘It is Pluto, I am almost certain,” cried another. ‘“‘ Let us get the keys from the porter,’ exclaimed a third, and a general excitement prevailed, for the idea had arisen simultaneously in every mind that there was something wrong, but what it was, no one could conceive, and no con- jecture was volunteered. The keys were procured from the hall porter’s room; the front door was opened, and Pluto crawled painfully into the hall. He was feebly wagging his tail, as if in satisfaction at having thus obtained admittance at last, but he was blood- stained in several places, and his eyes, usually so bright and intelligent, were glazing as if in death. He carried some- thing in his mouth, and on creeping into the hall, he did not sink down, though evidently in an exhausted, if not a dying state, but dragged himself painfully from the feet of one domestic to another. He looked up at each, too, in a sort of piteously entreating manner. It was evident that if the faithful and intelligent animal had the power of speech, he would have told some tale. “The poor dog has been wounded,” ejaculated several voices, and looks of horror were exchanged, for the previous misgiving which had smitten the domestics appeared all in a , eGoim (-) LOOKS (E(O)