The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 61: what you’re looking at

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

44 REYNOLDS’ WORKS have dissipated, may be replaced, and, in addition to all this, a large sum may be at my disposal, all on one condition — yes, one condition, my lord.”’ ‘And that condition? ”’ ejaculated Marchmont, smitten. with the conviction that all to which he was listening must indeed more or less regard himself. ‘“ Your Grace may believe me or not, as you think fit,’” resumed Armytage, “‘ but I swear unto you that no syllable suggestive of aught to your prejudice went forth from my lips, no word savouring of betrayal did I utter. No, by Heaven, not asyllable, not a word! And yet the proposition was made, a proposition to the effect that if I would only reveal something — Need I, my lord, say more? ”’ ‘‘ In the name of God,” gasped the duke, white as a sheet, and staggering as if stricken a blow, ‘‘ what — what — ”’ But he could not complete the sentence; he could not complete the query which he endeavoured to frame with his ashy quivering lips. ‘For years has your Grace’s secret been kept,’ resumed. Armytage, “‘ and for countless reasons would I most sin- cerely desire to keep it inviolate unto the end. But the temptation to betray it is immense. With me everything is now at stake; circumstances render me intensely selfish, and it is for your Grace to decide whether I am to owe the resus- citation of my fortunes to yourself or to that lawyer in the other room? ”’ 3 | Armytage had spoken with a mingled nervousness and resoluteness, and the Duke of Marchmont, sinking upon a chair, gasped for breath. His eyes stared wildly, his coun- tenance became fearful to look upon in its indescribable ghastliness. The punishment of pandemonium was gnawing, at the heart within, rending the soul with ineffable excrucia- tions, and reflecting its direst agonies upon the features themselves. ‘' Travers,’ said the duke, in a low, hollow voice, as he rose from his seat and approached Armytage, ‘‘ you could not do this! ”’ ‘“ My lord,”’ was the response, *‘ I repeat that I have grown intensely selfish; I can now think of no one but of myself and of my daughter. Seventy thousand pounds do I owe to this lawyer, or, rather, to his client; and, oh, my lord, you know not how absolutely necessary it is that the bills ) CORNIELIOOLKKS (E(©)