The Young Duchess; or, Memoirs of a Lady of Quality — page 90: what you’re looking at

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

76 ro THE YOUNG DUCHESS; OR, MEMOIRS OF A LADY OIF QUALITY. “It’s no use, ma’am! it’s no use!” interrupted the fellow in a savage tone. “I know what I’m about—and you'd better hold your tongue.” “Do not think that because I am a woman I am afraid,” said the Duchess, making a display of all the fortitude which she could possibly command. ‘A single scream sent pealing from my lips would raise the neighbourhood!” ‘You'd better try it. It would save me a world of trouble—I should just give you one knock over the head—and then you wouldn't speak another word before we reached the place that I’m to take you to.” “Twenty guineas if you let me go!” said the Duchess, now in her desperation offering a reward and hazarding a sum which might be far too much and far too little, she knew not which. “Twenty guineas?” —and the man laughed with insolent irony. “Does he think that I am Imogen and that I cannot possess such a sum?” asked the Duchess of herself: ‘‘or is he so well bribed by his em-. ployers, whoever they may be, that he scorns the puny reward I have offered ?” Indeed the Duchess was perfectly bewildered how to act; and as she surveyed the fellow’s sinister expression of countenance, as he sat oppo- site to her, evidently watching her with the keenest vigilance—holding the pistol in a man- ner which showed his readiness to use it in case of necessity,—then, as she glanced right and left through the windows, and saw that she was still being borne rapidly through that maze of vile narrow obscure streets,—and as she reflected that the driver of the vehicle was no doubt an accom- plice in the plot, whatever its nature and object might be,—a cold terror crept over her and para- fysed her energies. Some few minutes elapsed in silence ; and then the vehicle suddenly drew up in front of a house in one of the obscure and half-deserted streets whereof we have been speaking. That house was larger than the rest, and by its size and appear- ance seemed to have been a habitation snatched up from some street of a better class, carried off bodily, and then dropped down on the spot where we now find it. . The instant the cab stopped, the front door of the house opened. First a young female came forth—then an elderly woman—and then a man of an appearance as sinister as the individual who was with the Duchess in the vehicle. The young female was about sixteen, very slight and pale, with her dark hair arranged in plain bands, and with a simple and neat attire. The elderly woman was of enormous size: her head, naturally large, seemed. to be set upon her shoulders without the intermediary of any neck ; and as she had a vo- luminous double chin, the flabby flesh thereof actually rested upon the vast and revolting exu- berance of the bust. Yet she was gaily appa- relled ; and she had a smirking, insolent, leering air, as she rubbed her hands with satisfaction when coming forth from her dwelling. The man has been sufficiently described as an ill-looking person, very much resembling the individual who had carried off the Duchess: for indeed they were brothers. ‘‘ Now, ma’am,” said the person inside the cab, * you will be so good as to step out.” Then quick as the eye can wink, he threw a large silk pocket-handkerchief over her head, dex- terously drawing it across her mouth, crushing the plain straw bonnet that she wore, and effec- tually gagging her for the brief period that suf- ficed for conveying her forcibly into the house. Yes—such was the mode by which she was borne into the dwelling; for she resisted desperately and strove to cry out; but it was all the work of a few instants, the other man and the elderly woman helping the wretch who had been seated with her in the cab. As for the pale-faced girl,—young though she were, there was an expression of har- | dened depravity upon her countenance, so that it did not appear as if she was very likely to sym- pathize with the unfortunate lady who was being thus carried into that den of infamy. A couple of guineas were thrust into the hands of the cab- man, who nodded significantly to the group and then instantaneously drove away. The Duchess was borne into a back room on the ground floor: she was placed in a chair—the handkerchief was taken from off her head—and the two men and the pale-faced girl retiring, the elderly woman remained alone with her Grace. ‘“ Now, my pretty creature,” she said, in a voice that was rendered rough and hoarse by drinking and dissipation, ‘it’s of no manner of use for you to give yourself any airs. There will be some one here presently who'll tell you why all this has happened. Don’t waste your breath by screaming or crying out, because it won’t do any good; and don’t think of jumping out of the winder, because the back-yard is a dozen feet lower than the level of the street, and so yow'll only get broken bones for your trouble.” Having thus spoken, the woman turned and quitted the room, locking the door behind her. Two candles were burning on the table; and the instant she found herself alone, the’ Duchess started up, flung back her veil, and glanced has- tily around. It was a parlour in which she found herself, tolerably well furnished, but with a visible air of dirt, as if the place were seldom dusted, and as if it were also the frequent scene of orgies; for the table-cover and the carpet showed many wine- stains, and there were three or four ends of cigars in the grate. The heart of the patrician lady heaved at the aspect of the place; and she men- tally ejaculated, ‘‘Good God! that I who live in mansions, should be brought to such a den as this !” She sank down upon the seat almost in despair ; but soon recovering a certain degree of self-pos- Session, she exclaimed, ‘‘Who could have done this? who on the face of the earth could have perpetrated this outrage? However, he will be here presently—and verily I am curious to know who can be the author of the infamy! Surely, surely I must have been mistaken for Imogen, un- less indeed any evil-disposed person had watched and dogged me, and availed himself of that opportunity to carry out his nefarious design.” Here we must leave the Duchess in a state of completest perplexity, while we shift the scene. It was a West-End hotel, and in a private apartment two gentlemen were dining. One was Sir Abel Kingston ; the other was Mr. Sylvester Casey. The Baronet was dressed with his usual elegance: the garments, faultlessly cut, set off his slender form to all the advantage of its well- knit proportions. As he lounged back in his YN Wn) COMO Colin