Penny Dreadfuls, 1857 · page 244 of 394
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286 “I know nothing of his proceedings,” responded Cicely. “And you are also ignorant, perhaps, of the sourse which De Vere may have pursued? Surely he would never dare to take his quadroon mistress to Naples, where his mother now resides: for I be- lieve that she is a most estimable lady.” “TI bave not seen Mr. De Vere,” answered Cicely, “since the day be was bold enough to call upon me as I have already told you: and then I dismissed him from my presence. Yes—on dis- eovering from his own admission how guilty he bad been, I bade him leave the room !”’ “ But how did he become acquainted in the first instance with young Mr. Barrington and hie wife P” inquired Ormaby. “From something which the quadroon told me,” responded Cicely, “it would appear that Charles AGNES; OR, BEAUTY AND PLEASURE. ford in the duel which he fought with my hus- band.” ; “I merely put the question, Mrs. Hardress,” resumed Lord Ormsby, “ because I was about to inquire whether during your travels on the Con- tinent, you bad chanced to fall in with thet unfor- tunate girl pertaps you know to whom [ al- lade P—the cousin of Agnes !” “Ah!” ejaculated Cicely. ribel ?” “Yes—the unfortunate Floribel, who was se- duced under the semblance of a marriage by that villain whose name you ere now mentioned —— Theodore Clifford !” Cicely reflected seriously and deeply while Lord Ormsby was thus speaking. “He is almost sure,” she thought to herself, “now that he is in Florence, to discover that Ci- * You mean Fio- De Vere partook of their hospitality when they | prina and Floribel were one and the same person; were living at a retired village in the Apennines, and if I tell him a falsehood on the subject, he and when he was escaping from the fortalice of /may then disbelieve my statements in reference Bagno, during the many complications which were | to Charles De Vere. I must therefore tell him Lucrezia di Mirano. No doubt on that occasion Charles De Vere repaid Gustavus Barring!on’s generous hospitality by the seduction of his wife !” “Enough! enough!” ejaculated Ormsby, “ it is indeed all too plainly apparent! Good heavens! the farther and farther I get upon the pathway of the world, the more do I become acquainted with the iniquities, duplicities, and hypocrisies of human pature! As if even all my former experiences were not sufficient, but that there must be new teach- ings to open to my knowledge fresh roads in the realms of crime! But enough, I say, upon that hideous topic!—Ah! by the bye, Mrs. Hardress, you were speaking of the complications which arose in respect to those recent circumstances that must have filled all Florence with amazement and horror. Now that I happen to be in this city, I would like to visit the Mirano mansion. Not that I have any morbid curiosity in respect to the place itself: —heaven forbid! But I have been i informed that the late Marchioness possessed a | picture of Lucrezia Borgia, to which she herself bore the most wondrous resemblance.” “And you have been rightly informed, Mr. Hargrave,” answered Cicely. “That portrait, together with other pictures, was conveyed to the Count of Ramorino’s private residence: but it has now been restored to the Mirano mansion, which together with all the possessions of the guilty Mar- chioness, hs been confiscated by the Government. It is intended, I believe, that everything should be sold shortly; but in the meanwhile visitors may inspect the picture gallery at the mansion.” “ T thank you for this information,” answered Lord Ormsby ; “ and though but little inclined to sight seeing in the present painful state of my feelings, yet I assuredly shall avail myself of the opportunity to eontemplate a picture which may be regarded as the two-fold representation of ree markable female criminals. And now, Mrs. Hard- ress, with your permission I will turn to another topic. Might I ingaire how long you have been travelling on the Continent P” “A little more than a month— about five weeks,” said Cicely. ‘“ We left England imme- diately after that sad affair of which you may per- baps have heard: I mean the death of Mr. Clif- ’ associated with the marvellously tragic history of | the truth! But he need not know that my bus- band is upon Fioribel’s track — perhaps by this time with Floribel herself: who can tell ?” These were the reflections which swept through Cicely’s mind; and then, when Lord Ormsby had finished speaking, she said, “ Yes, Mr. Hargrave —lI have seen Floribel ” “Ah! you have seen her?” he ejaculated. “This is one of my objects in coming to Italy: for I faithfully promised Agnes that I would discover, if possible, the place where the unfortunate girl had secluded herself e “Mr. Hargrave,” interrupted Cicely, “I am ‘about to give you another proof of my friendship and confidence. Prepare yourself to hear some- thing extraordinary '“ What! fresh marvels ?” exclaimed the noble- man. “Ab! heaven grant that they be not con- nected with fresh iniquities also !” “Oh, again I am about to grieve you, Mr. Har- grave!” said Cicely. ‘ You have heard of a cer- tain associate of the Marchioness of Mirano—ope whom report represents to have been almost as de- praved and profligate as the Marchioness her- self eo “ What! Ciprina?” exclaimed Ormsby. “ Yes —every one must have heard of her who has heard of the Marchioness! But what, in heaven’s name, ean this allusion to Ciprina have to do with Floribel ?” “You are about to visit the Mirano mansion,” responded Cicely. “ There, amongst the new paint- ings, you will behold a beautiful pictare of a Bride, It was the work of one of the most eminent Flo- rentine artists “ Well— and this portrait ?’’ cried Ormeby, somewhat impatiently, “The face is that of Ciprina,” continued Cicely, “Tt was she who sat as the artist’s model. Goand look at that face & “Just heaven!” cried Ormsby, “do you mean But no! no! it is impossible! As for me, I have never seen Floribel herself: but I have con- templated a portrait of her, beautifully executed by the pencil of Agnes.” “Then go and look upon the face of Ciprina,” rejoined Cicely, “and you will know where I have met Floribel !” Elooolk (a) (©) = (©) S}