The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 90: what you’re looking at

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

THE GALLERY IN THE CHATEAU 71 menced, and to place her friend in full possession of all the circumstances which regarded her love and him who was its object. Therefore, so soon as Monsieur Volney had retired, Clarine said to Lady Octavian, ‘‘ If you do not feel any par- ticular inclination to seek your couch immediately, come to my chamber, dear Zoe, for half an hour, and I will con- clude the history which my father’s presence interrupted in the morning.”’ Zoe at once signified her readiness to comply with this request, which was indeed quite in accordance with the promptings of her own curiosity, and she added, “ I will first dismiss my maid for the night, and in a few minutes I will join you in your chamber.”’ The ladies now temporarily separated, repairing to their ownrooms. Zoe dispensed with the attendance of the maid whose turn it was to minister unto her, and shortly after the abigail had retired, she issued forth from her chamber. At that very instant she beheld a form — the form of a man — emerge from the door of the oratorio, and at this sudden apparition a cry of terror thrilled from Lady Octavian’s lips. She staggered as if about to fall; the individual whose presence had thus startled her, and who for a single instant had stood utterly irresolute how to act, bounded forward and caught her in his arms. ‘“ For Heaven’s sake, compose yourself!’ he said, in the low, quick voice of intensest anxiety. ‘‘ Compose yourself, I beseech you.” At that moment Clarine rushed forth from her chamber, and clasping her hands in wild terror, she said, in a hasty, excited whisper, “‘ Oh, this imprudence — this madness, after all that I have written to you!” But now another door opened higher up the passage, and Monsieur Volney hurried forth with a light in his hand. A piercing shriek burst from the lips of Clarine, and she fell senseless upon the floor. Zoe — now completely recovered from her own alarm — sprang forward to raise her friend up, but she was anticipated by the stranger who had emerged from the chapel, though a stranger we can scarcely call him, inasmuch as Zoe had by this time conjectured that he could be none other than Claude Masson. And who but he could have so tenderly raised up the inanimate form of Mademoi- selle Volney? Who but he could have gazed with such deep CORnnICLOOOKS (CO)