Ellen Percy; or, The Memoirs of an Actress — page 231: what you’re looking at

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

_—— et 218 his and in that of her relatives. Oh! the reader | ELLEN PERCY; OR, THE MEMOIRS OF AN ACTRESS. “Yes—a few minutes!” ejaculated the Count may comprehend the satisfaction that I thus ex-| impatiently: and it really seemed as if he could perienced in having brought this important pro- ceeding to so successful an issue. | In a few minutes the door opened; and the | neither speak nor act except under the influence of a constitutional excitement. I entered the house: I found the Marquis and Count reappeared. His look was now calmer, but | Marchioness alone together in the drawing-room ; full of mournfulness: his conscience seemed to be partially relieved of the weight which had rested upon it from the moment that his eyes were opened to the conviction of his wife’s innocence. “The picture is destroyed, Miss Trafford!’ he said, closing the door behind hita: “First of all I took it forth from the portflié in which I was wont to keep it: I trampled it under foot—in my rage and fury I defaced with the heels of my boots the horrible delineations that were there—then I tore it into a thousand fragments—and finally I burnt them all — watching until the last spark died out of the last piece of shrivelled tinder !” It was thus in an excited manner that the Count of Carboni spoke. It seemed to me as if —though comparatively ealm now to what his state of mind was ere he left the room—he could not possibly subdue himself ito complete tran- quillity. His disposition was alike mercurial and sombre: his feelings were as easily acted upon as the wires of a galvanic battery by an electric spark; but the effect with him was far from being so transitory. I saw that he was one of those men who in their madness could do frightful for Beatrice was in her own chamber. “Now at length,” I said, “the project which I had in hand, and concerning which I have so steadily abstained from giving you any details, has reached a successful termination! The villain Luigi, who is in London, has confessed everything : the Count of Carboni is satisfied of the innocence of his much injured wife; and he is coming to proclaim it. Ina few minutes he will be here!” The Marchioness embraced me with fervour: the Marquis pressed my hand;—and both were profoundly affected. I requested her ladyship to hasten and prepare Beatrice for the interview that was about to take places She retired gecord- ingly; and during her brief absence, I entered into some particulars With the Marqiis. Pre- sently the Marchioness returned to the room, accompanied by her sister; and the lattér, bound- ing forward, caught me in her arms; exclaiming that she had every reason to love me also asa sister, Scarcely had Beatrice regaiied some little degree of composuré; when the door was thrown open, and 4 domestic announted the name of the Count of Carboni. deeds—but in whose remorse there was a tinge of; The servant immediately retired: the Count that same madness still, Thus I trembled for the consequences; because I knew that though the lips of Beatrice might pronounce the word “ par- don,” yet that never again could she consort with a man who had persecuted her s0 diabolically. Nevertheless, whatever those consequences might be, it was of paramount importance that an inter- view should take place between that man and his injured wife in the presence of her relatives, in order that her innocence might be effectually pro- claimed. “Now, my lord,’ I said, “will you come with me Pp” He understood what I meant; and he ex- claimed, ““ Yes—Oh, yes! J now yearn to accom~ plish that duty which is the first of the atonements that I have to make!” “Gut understand me well, my lord,” I em- phatically said: “it is the only atonement you have to make! Proclaim the innocence of your wife—and you will have done as much as under existing circumstances it is in your power to accomplish. It is not by any rash deed, such as by avenging yourself upon Luigi—nor by any self-inflicted punishment—that you will prove your contrition or administer balm to the wounded spirit of Beatrice.” * Come, Miss Trafford,” said the nobleman, who appeared to have listened somewhat impatiently to my words, and who offered no comment upon them. We issued forth together; and we proceeded in a cab to the house where Beatrice dwelt with the Marquis and Marchioness of Campanella. I stopped the cab at a short distance; and alighting, I said to the Count, “Suffer me, my lord, to pre- cede you at an interval of a few minutes, so that I may prepare them for the interview which is about to take place.” ee ee threw himself upon his knees at the feet of Béeatrite—his face bent downward: he dared not look up info het own. A deadly pallor overspread thé coutiténance of Beatrite: she staggered back & pace or two—but thé Matchioness and myself were closé at hand to sustaim her: A rapid glance which I flung toWards th8 Mavditis, showed me how strong @ sensé of loathitis for the wretched Count was de picted upon his features: but it was with @ veritable HOEROF that Beatrice looked down upon the kneeling, seif-abasing form of her hus- band. And no wonder! For could she avoid thinking at the moment of that frightful period when he was locked in the room at the chateau, along with herself and the ignominiously sus- pended corpse of Angelo Marano ? “Beatrice, you are innocent!’ exclaimed the Count of Carboni. “I proclaim you to be inno- cent! Butas for your forgiveness Pm | He stopped short: he slowly raised his eyes towards the countenance of his wife; and then he passionately exclaimed, “Ob, I see that it is im- possible you can forgive me!” It was now that Beatrice, exercising the strongest control over her feelings, said in a clear but tremulous voice, “ Yes—I forgive you! But understand me well, my lord! Everything is at an end between us! I am your wife omy in name—and never more may we dwell together !” *T dared not expect it, Beatric2,” answered the Count. “I scarcely dared even expect that you would forgive me! I thank you—heaven knows that from the bottom of my heart I thank you! And now farewell for ever!” Having thus spoken, the Count bent one lin- gering look of utter misery upon his wife; and he then hurried from the room. None of us chose to make a movement to detain him. What had we to say? wherefore should we prolong a scene (COAL cS JOO (E ‘ om