Ellen Percy; or, The Memoirs of an Actress — page 305: what you’re looking at

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

292 “ Dare not, sir,” I indignantly exclaimed, “ ad- dress me in that familiar strain! You know full well, Mr. Parks, whether I have wrongs to com- plain of at your hands,—wrongs which consist not merely of the plunder of my fortune !” “Speak, sir!” cried my father: “ will you drive me to extremes? The constable is now under the window.” “By ‘heaven!” ejaculated Parks, his counte- nance now white as a sheet, “it will be a war to the knife!—the exposure on both sides will be terrific !” “Your answer, sir? Quick! quick!” exclaimed my father: and he threw up the window-sash. “In the name of God, don’t expose me!” said the miserable wretch, in a tone of the most earnest entreaty; and nothing’ could exceed the ghastly horror of his looks. “Iwill do everything [ can —I will restore But for God’s sake shut that window !” “You have promised,” said my father; “and I rely upon the fulfilment of your pledge. If you fail to keep it, rest assured that I will inexorably invoke the aid of justice.” 3 Thus speaking, my father closed the window ; and Parks, now utterly overpowered by the agony of his feelings, sank upon achair. There he re- mained for some minutes, a most piteous and abject spectacle—his countenance ghastly pale— his lips quivering—his eyes staring in wild va- cancy. My father flung upon me a significant look, as much as to imply that the victory was our own, and that we should succeed in com. pelling the villanous attorney to disgorge his ill- gotten possessions. “Now listen to me, Mr. Parks,” said my father, at length breaking the silence which had for some minutes prevailed. “It is idle to suppose that you have retained the original will which the de: ceased Mr. Forsyth made in his granddaughter’s favour, and which fell into the hands of your mother. But you forged another will; and that was doubtless for precisely the same sum as the original. Your mother proved and administered to the forged will—the record can be examined— we are already aware that Mr. Forsyth died worth somewhere about thirty thousand pounds — but that record to which I allude will furnish the exact amount i “It was thirty thousand pounds,” said Parks, in a voice so changed, so hollow, so sepulchral, that I started; for it struck me at the instant as if if were a voice coming up from the very tomb itself. “Thirty thousand pounds,” repeated my father. “And you have doubtless doubled that amount— you are exceedingly rich, Mr. Parks—and you will experience no difficulty in raising the sum within afew days. Name your own time; but let the interval be brief—let there be no subterfuge nor delay—or you will find that you have to deal with one who in proving merciless will thereby avenge past injuries of every description. And in respect to the whole transaction itself, you must expect to be treated by us as we shall find ourselves treated by you. If you proclaim to the world aught that may prejudice my daughter’s interests— for I myself have none save those which are centred in her—we on our side shall scarcely hesitate to give equal publicity to the fact that Mr. Parks, the ELLEN PERCY ; OR, THE MEMOIRS OF AN ACTRESS. LT i ta A ae NT Hig: eminent solicitor, has been fattening on the pro- duce of forgery and fraud of the most heinous de- scription. Now, sir, name your own day—your own hour—when you will be prepared to surren- der up to my daughter the fortune of which she was dispossessed by the iniquity of your mother and yourself.” The miserable attorney—a more abject spectacle than ever in human form had met my eyes— gasped forth a few words to the effect that on that day week, and at the same hour, he would be prepared to comply with my father’s demand; and then he literally moaned in the bitterness of his anguish. “ Come, Ellen,” said my father: and taking me by the hand, he led me from the apartment. When we quitted the house, my father began pouring forth the most fervid congratulations at the prospect of the wealth which was so soon to shower itself upon me: but the entire closing part of the scene had acted on my mind with the in- fluence of a bewildering consternation—so that I conld scarcely fancy that it was otherwise than a dream. At length I gradually awoke as it were to the consciousness that it was all a reality; and then I was lost in stupendous dismay at the fear- ful guilt of which the late Mrs. Parks and her son had been culpable. Though from my father’s lips at Embledon I had heard the announcement of this guilt, yet it had always seemed vague and visionary to me, until this moment when it was so incontestably proved. It was some time before I regained the power of utterance; and when I began to thank my father for the course which he had adopted, he cut me short by observing, “ We must not be seen too much together, Ellen. Fare- well for the present, my dear girl. I will write to you when next we are to meet.” We then separated; and I returned to Hunter Street, still more or less under the influence of consternation and wonderment at the scene which had taken place. ee oe CHAPTER Ul. HYDE PARK. FEELING somewhat unsettled in my mind— though far from unhappily so—in consequence of all that had occurred, I could not compose myself to reading or any of my usual avocations; and therefore, after luncheon, I proceeded to the West End of the town to make a call or two, in order to divert my thoughts from dwelling too much upon one train of ideas. The first visit that I thus purposed to pay was at the mansion of the Marquis of Campanella; and on arriving there, I found that the Marquis and Marchioness them- selves had gone on an invitation to Windsor Castle, and that the Countess of Carboni was just sitting down to write a note to the effect that she was all alone in the house and that she skould be glad to see me. Accident had therefore willed it that my visit should be exceedingly well-timed ; and after some little conversation, Beatrice pra- posed that we should take a drive in the Park. I readily assented—the carriage was ordered—and to the Park we repaired. od CORNICLOOKS Com