The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 60: what you’re looking at

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

EDGAR BEVERLEY 41 taining an interview with your uncle, but you have suffered the whole of this day to pass, because you have hesitated and trembled; you have been haunted by misgivings, but bewildered by their vagueness and uncertainty — ” ‘‘ Yes, yes, — it is so,’ ejaculated Beverley, with mingled amazement and suspense. ‘‘ But how — ”’ ‘“‘ Because,” interrupted Christian, speaking rapidly and excitedly, ‘‘ by a remarkable series of incidents I have been placed in a position enabling me to throw much light upon that which is at present dark to your view.” ‘You? ” cried Beverley, with a suspense that now reached to fever-point. ‘“‘ Yes, — and to prove that it is so,’ continued our hero, ‘“T will at once give you the right names of those whom you have introduced by fictitious ones, — as well as that of your uncle whose name throughout your narrative you have not mentioned at all.”’ “Good heavens, is this possible?’’ exclaimed Edgar, starting up from his seat. ‘“‘ Yes,” rejoined Christian, ‘‘ judge for yourself. Your uncle is Sir John Steward, Mrs. Maxwell is Mrs. Oxenden, and the name of Louisa is a substitute for the real one of Laura.” “True,” cried Edgar, in the wildest amazement. “ But how, my dear friend — how — ”’ “Listen,” interrupted Christian, “‘ and I wiil tell you everything. But pray be calm and collected.”’ Our hero then proceeded to explain all those particulars which have been related to the reader, from the moment when he had seen the breaking-down of the carriage on the previous evening, to that when he descended from his hiding-place in the tree on the day of which we are writing. Edgar Beverley listened with mingled indignation and amaze- ment, and scarcely had Christian finished, when the lhieu- tenant snatched up his hat, exclaiming, ‘‘ The foulest treach- ery is at work, but I will rush to Verner House, I will un- mask the conspiracy, I will rescue my beloved Laura, and then let my vile uncle do his worst.”’ “Stop,” said Christian, springing forward to catch Bev- erley by the arm; “ you will ruin everything by your rash- ness. The door will be closed against you. It is now nine o'clock in the evening; you will not see Laura, but you will EOMINGIOOKS (CO