The Argosy — page 180: what you’re looking at

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

Court Netherleigh. 165 the matter now in its true colours, all its deadly peril, 1ts shameful sin. Throwing herself on her knees, she raised her hands in prayerful agony, beseeching the Most High to spare them both—herself from exposure, the innocent young fellow, who had been made her tool, from punishment, and she took a solemn oath never again to be tempted to play. Whether the prayer soothed her spirit, or whether the natural re- action that follows upon violent emotion set in, certain it was that a sort of calm stole over Adela. Her head lay on the bed, her arms were outstretched upon it, and by-and-by she slept. If, indeed, it could be called sleep. For she still seemed to be conscious of the peril that awaited her, and a half dream, half-waking reality, began weaving its threads in her brain. She thought she was in that, her own chamber, and kneeling down by the bed, as she was, in fact, kneeling. She seemed to be en- deavouring to hide her head, and could not. Suddenly, a faint noise arose in the street, and she appeared to rise from her knees and go to the window to peep out. ‘There she saw two fierce-looking men, whom she knew instinctively to be officers of justice come to appre- hend -her, mounted on horses. Each horse had a red lantern fixed above its head, from which bright red rays radiated on all sides. As she looked, the rays flashed upwards and discovered her. ‘‘‘There she is!” called out a voice that she knew to be Charles Cleveland’s, and in the fright and horror she awoke. Her hair and face were damp with fear, her whole frame shook, and several minutes passed before she could understand that it was not reality. The peril was there, all too surely. What if Charles, to save him- self, avowed the truth, that it was she who was guilty, and was already piloting those dread officers of justice to her house? Nay, and if he did not avow it, others must. How could she, she herself, allow him to stand in her place to suffer for her, now that it had come to this? The dream had struck to her nerves. Ensuing upon the natural fear, it had created a perfect scare of terror. The horrible red lights seemed still to flash upon her face : and a lively dread set in that the officers were there and then on their way westward, to secure her. This fear tormented her throughout all the rest of the live-long night ; and by the morning it had grown into a desperate belief, a reality, a living agony. ‘There was but one step that could save her—flight. With the first sounds of stir in the house, she rang for Davvy. That damsel, fearing illness, flung on a few garments and ran to her lady’s room. ‘To her intense astonishment there stood Lady Adela, up and dressed, her eyes wild and her cheeks hectic. “T want to go away somewhere, Davvy,” she said, her lively imagina- tion picturing to herself with increased certainty and increased terror, the capturing officers drawing nearer and nearer. ‘Will you pack up a few things, and get a cab called ?” | connicloooks (7) (S©)