The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 184: what you’re looking at

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

THE WITNESSES 163 man would perforce have unconsciously and mechanically followed her. She opened a door on the opposite side of the landing, and she conducted him into a little room of which he seemed only to have a dim recollection, though nothing in this apartment was changed in respect to its appointments as he himself had for years known them. But, as we have already intimated, his thoughts were falling fast into con- fusion, not exactly with the madness of excitement, but with the stupor of an overwhelming consternation, a erush: ing dismay, a paralyzing horror. In this room to which Queen Indora now conducted the Duke of Marchmont, Mr. Armytage was seated. Candles were burning upon the table. Zoe’s father was excessively pale, but there was a certain air of resolution in his looks, as if he knew beforehand what duty he had to perform, and was determined to accomplish it. He rose from his seat on the appearance of Indora, to whom he bowed with the pro- foundest respect. He then glanced at the Duke of March- mont, and an expression passed over his features as if he were at the moment saying to himself, ‘‘ The hour of that man is come! ”’ Indora closed the door, and, without taking a seat, she at once said to Zoe’s father, “‘ Your name is not Armytage — it is Travers? ”’ ‘““T have already admitted as much to your Majesty,” replied the individual thus addressed; and his voice as well as his manner indicated the deepest respect toward that sovereign lady. The Duke of Marchmont now appeared to rally himself slightly for a moment, and he bent upon Travers a look of the most imploring entreaty, but Zoe’s father seemed not to notice it. “ You were once the valet of this person?” continued Queen Indora, glancing for an instant at the Duke of March- mont, and “ you were at Oaklands when, several long years ago, an awful tragedy took place? ”’ “ I was so, your Majesty,” responded Travers, and a moan came forth from the throat of the wretched Marchmont. “ You remember the night when the late Duke of March- mont was murdered?” continued Indora, ‘‘ and you rec- ollect that the faithful dog, no doubt in the attempt to save COnnIClOoKs (S©)