Ellen Percy; or, The Memoirs of an Actress — page 144: what you’re looking at

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

CO i LLL LLL LALLA LLL LEAL ALL ELLEN PERCY; OR, THE MEMOIRS OF AN ACTRESS. 131 to know that you were a felon’s child than lose | I went away. I did not seex | my sister Mrs. Wakefield; for I learnt by inquiry | you from his care. that she was poor; and moreover I had shame sufficient to make me dread the thought of look- ing her in the face. Two years after my visit to Leeds, I was so pressed by dire poverty that I dragged myself thither again. I learnt that your grandfather lay dangerously ill; and from a con- versation which I overheard at a public-house in “ Yes, Ellen,” continued my father; “you have been thus cruelly defrauded—~and I have been powerless to help you. Know you that death is the penalty of the last offence which I committed? —I mean my escape from bondage in the penal settlement: and though that awful extreme might not be carried out, yet the lesser alternative were in itself most horrible. To be sent to Norfolk Island au “ For God’s sake, father, dwell not upon thesé the immediate reighbourhood of Mr. Forsyth’s | things!” I in agony and anguish exclaimed. “ You abode I ascertained that the old harridan Mrs. Parks exercised the utmost influence over him. I knew that she was acquainted with my fearful secret: I dared not therefore show myself at the house; for I felt assured that in order to get me out of the way, she would not hesitate to surrender me up into the hands of justice. But still I was anxious to obtain some insight into what was going on within those walls where a rich old miser lay at the mercy of an unscrupulous woman, and where your fate, Ellen, seemed about to be deeided, whether you should become a wealthy heiress, or ~ be left in dependence upon one who could have no possible regard for you.” * Oh, the horrors of that night !? I murmured, as all the particulars of the death scene rose vividly up intomy memory. “ Father, I was listening— I beheld your countenance at the window——” “ Ah! you saw me?” exclaimed Mr. Croft—for by this name I must continue to speak of my father. “ And the poor old man saw me likewise! He had just been pointing to the escritoire—and he then pointed towards me. But tell me, Ellen —tell me, what did you hear on that memorable night ?” “ Dreadful words were those that I heard,” I responded: “they are indelibly fixed upon my memory !” “ Yes—and I also heard dreadful words,” con< tinued my father. “I heard the old man adjure Mrs. Parks to fulfil all his injunctions. Inspired by an awful energy—couched in terrible terms— were the injunctions that he thus gave. But tell me, Ellen—how much did you hear ?” _ With a shuddering sensation I repeated all that I had overheard at the time: word for word, and syllable for syllable, did I detail as much as had reached my ears of the discourse between my | towards you. have told me enough to prove that you could not > help me *“ No—I was in the power of that vile woman and her infamous son,” answered my father. “Shortly after Mr. Forsyth’s funeral, Mrs. Parks took you up to London. I have already told you that I was suffering the direst poverty—the most utter destitution re “ Alas, poor father!” I murmured, almost suffo- cated with grief. “In desperation I paid a visit to Mrs. Parks, at her lodgings in London z “TI knew it, father. I heard your voice as you bade them farewell. Mrs, Parks and her son an- swered you “They gave me money,” continued Mr. Croft; “and with mingled insolence and significancy they bade me come near them no more. Though almost completely callous to everything in this life —and though studying to embrute myself as much as possible—yet I was not utterly indifferent to your welfare. I did not on that occasion speak out plainly: but still I said enough to convince Mrs. Parks and her son that I knew they had de- frauded you. Mrs. Parks assured me that she would rear you well, and that she had already made arrangements to afford you an excellent edu- cation. I was compelled to be satisfied; and I went away. Seeking some seclusion, I dwelt quietly for about three years and a half, when I learnt that Mrs. Parks was no more. [I repaired to London—I saw her son: he told me that you had gone to live with my sister Mrs. Wakefield. I myself was again plunged into the direst poverty: and I was base enough again to become the reci- pient of pecuniary succour from the hands of the villain who was perpetuating his mother’s fraud Then another interval passed—an dying grandsire and_ his housekeeper,—as the | interval of about two years; and this brings me reader has already found that discourse recorded | down to a date of only a few months back. Again in the second chapter of my narrative. was I reduced to destitution: again was I com- “You see, father,” I added, “ what an impres- | pelled to seek the assistance of the villain Parks. sion those words made upon my mind: for the event | I then learnt to my astonishment that the Miss took place exactly six years ago, when I was only | Trafford who had recently appeared with such tri- twelve and a half.” umphant success upon the dramatic stage, was “Ah! but I heard something more than you, | none other than yourself. Ellen, perhaps you can my child,” responded Mr. Croft. “I was listening | believe me when I give you the assurance that on at the window before you could have been listening | receiving this announcement my heart melted at the door: I heard your grandfather speak of | within me—my soul dissolved with indescribable his will—that document which he subsequently | emotions; and, Ob, my God! I wept in bitterness pointed out to Mrs. Parks as being concealed in | at the thought that I dared not claim you as my the escritoire; and though Lf could catch but | daughter. But then more than ever was it impe- broken sentences, yet sufficient reached my ears to | riously necessary to keep the stupendous secret. prove to me that he had left you his heiress.” You were earning a brilliant renown for yourself; “ Good heavens! is this possible ?” I exclaimed, | and it was not for me to cast a blight upon the appalled at the stupendous wickedness of which, | feelings of your young heart by revealing to you as I now comprehended, Mrs. Parks had been | those hideous secrets which you have learnt to-day! guilty; while my thoughts naturally associated Vee assured me that you were as good as you her son as an accomplice im the crime. ‘were talented, and that your character was un- CONNIE DOOKS Com