Ellen Percy; or, The Memoirs of an Actress — page 361: what you’re looking at

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

348 “Rest assured, Ellen, that the murderer of my husband is—Luigi !” “Ah!” I exclaimed, as the conviction that Beatrice had rightly surmised, fastened itself upon my mind. | “Yes!” continued the Countess: “the wretch who was so horribly vindictive towards myself, would be equally vindictive towards the master whom he had been the means of plunging into the most appalling crimes! There is but one man on the face of the earth who could have thus as a bloodhound tracked the wretched Count of Carboni unto his death———and that man is Luigi !” “ Yes—doubtless it is Luigi! But come, Bea- trice—come!” I exclaimed: “let us speed away from this spot where the very wind itself seems laden with murder’s agonizing cries!” We hurried along towards a path leading into the entrance of Dover: but during the few minutes occupied by our walk—or rather run thither—we were both frightened lest we should suddenly en- counter the assassin whom we believed to be none other than Luigi. The darkness deepened—the wind blew with greater strength; and its voice seemed to the ears of us both to be laden with wild and mournful accents. But language has no power to describe all that we both felt on this dreadful evening; for what the feelings of Beatrice were I could not only judge from the frequent ejaculations to which her lips gave utterance, but when on a subsequent occasion we were enabled with greater calmness to discourse on the details of the tragedy, she explained to me the nature of all the terrors that had haunted her. The entrance of Dover was soon reached; and we stopped short for a few moments to deliberate upon the course which we should adopt,—when we beheld two sailors approaching. We at once ac- costed them, and in a hurried and excited manner informed them that we had seen a man hurled off the top of the cliff by another. The sailors ex- pressed their willingness to speed to the spot where the unfortunate victim of the crime would no doubt be found: but they assured us that there was not the slightest chance of finding him alive. They recommended that we should lose no time in communicating the horrible transaction to the suthorities, so that measures might be adopted for the discovery and capture of the assassin, if pos- sible. We mentioned our names to the sailors, and likewise the address where we were to be found; and they sped away in the direction of the beach beneath the cliffs. After a short consultation with Beatrice, we de- termined to hasten back to the hotel and inform the landlord of what we had seen, so that he might put us in the way of making the requisite com- munication to the authorities. Beatrice asked me if I thought it was necessary for her to state that she knew who the victim was and proclaim him to be her husband? I assured her that it was absolutely necessary, and that she must moreover state that she had journeyed from the metropolis in order to have an interview with the Count—for that we must explain the circumstance of our pre- sence in the vicinage of the scene of crime at that hour. We reached the hotel, where our pale faces and excited looks at once showed the waiters whom we ELLEN PERCY; OR, THE MEMOIRS OF AN ACTRESS. met in the hall and on the staircase that some: thimg terrible had occurred. We desired that the landlord of the establishment might at once be sent to us; and scarcely had we reached our sit- ting-room, when he made his appearance. Our tale was soon told; for we did not deem it neces. sary to enter into minute explanations with him: but he was horrified at the intelligence which fell upon his ears, and he expressed the utmost sym- pathy on our account as the witnesses of the hideous tragedy. The Mayor of the town resided af no great distance from the hotel; and the land. lord offered to conduct us to that official’s abode. But I saw that the Countess of Carboni was so much overcome and exhausted by the terrific ex- citement through which she had passed, that she was not equal toa task which would only tend to agitate her feelings anew. I therefore volunteered to proceed alone, or rather in the landlord’s com- pany, to the residence of the Mayor; and Beatrice gratefully accepted the offer. I saw likewise that it was all the more advisable I should take this duty entirely on myself, because it would be ne. cessary to give certain explanations to the Mayor in respect to the murdered Count; and the feel. ings of Beatrice would be spared by her remaining at the hotel. I set out with the landlord; and in a few minutes we reached the Mayor’s residence. That functionary was at home; and he at once received us. He was an elderly gentleman—very polite and affable in his manners—and still more cour- teous to me when he learnt from the landlord that I was Miss Trafford the tragedian. I soon entered upon the painful nature of the business which had brought me thither: the Mayor was shocked and horrified ; and he asked me whether I could give such a description of the assassin as might lead to his arrest P “It is necessary that I should afford your wor- ship certain particulars,” I answered. “I have already told you that I have positive reason for knowing that the victim of this crime is an Italian nobleman, the Count of Carboni. The lady who was with me, is the Countess of Carboni—the wife, or rather the widow of the deceased. With- out entering into any family matters of a private character, I may simply remark that the Count and Countess have for some while dwelt separately, —though in justice to her ladyship I must add that her own character and conduct are unim- peachable. A very short time back the Count, under a feigned name, tovk that picturesque little cottage on the Canterbury Road, which is at no great distance from River House “ “IT know the cottage well,” observed the Mayor: “itis where a lady of the name of Glentworth re- cently died very suddenly P” “The same,” I answered. “I must now pro- ceed to inform your worship that the Count of Carboni wrote to his wife in London, requesting a last interview, if only for a few minutes. The Countess complied with the summons; and I as her friend accompanied her. We proceeded to the cottage—his lordship was not at home: we learnt from the gardener that he had gone to walk upon the cliffs—and we repaired thither; for the Coun- tess was most anxious to learn for what reason her husband desired the interview. We reached the ascent of the cliffsin time to behold the appalling cS ECORNICELOOO© Com