Ellen Percy; or, The Memoirs of an Actress — page 45: what you’re looking at

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

ee 2 ———— SL er errr LL LLL LLL LLL LILLE LL LE LLL EDC CTI LL OI Ot AE tC et ts mma asi a a Ss — ELLEN PERCY; OR, THE MEMOIRS OF AN ACTRESS, “Thank you for your kindness,” I responded: “but [ must return to my friends, or they would be uneasy—and it is perfectly the same to me whether I ride in a carriage or a hackney-coach.” Mrs. Parks rang the bell—the order was given to the footman to fetch a hackney-coach,—and I rose to take my leave. Mr. Parks and Coionel Bellew insisted on seeing me down to the vehicle; and I was dreadfully afraid lest the Colonel should éffer to accompany me as far as Hunter Street. The proposal however, which I was fully deter- mined to resist, was not made; and the hackney- coach rolled away from the front of the lawyer’s dwelling. I reclined back in the vehicle, thinking:of all that had taken place,—wondering how the Parkses could have become so rich, and whether all their fortune were based upon the money originally bequeathed by my grandfather to his housekeeper, —wondering likewise whether he had foreseen that his money would for ever be alienated from me, or whether he had intended it to becume mine at that old woman’s death—and more than half suspecting that his dying instructions could not have been fulfilled to the very letter. Iwas so absorbed in these reflections that I took no notice of the course the hackney-coach was pursulng— until the idea gradually dawned in unto my mind that the journey back to Hunter Street was much longer than that from Hunter Street to the lawyer’s house. I rose from my half-reclining posture, and looked from the window: tho hack. ney-coach was passing rapidly by some iron rail- ing, behind which there were trees. The night was excessively dark—a misty rain was fall- ing—both the windows were closed; and as I only observed objects dimly, mothought we were passing through one of the Squares. I reclined back again: another ten minutes must have elapsed—still the equipage was rolling along, and with increased rapidity. I felt assured that the driver had made some mistake as to the address that had been given to him, though it was I myself who had mentioned that address at start- ing. I pulled the check-string: but it drew in all the way—the coachman was not holding it in his hand. I put down one of the windows, and called out to him, “ All right, Miss,” he said, “it’s a little mistake on my part—I missed the way—but in five mi- nutes you will be there.” Perfectly satisfied with the explanation—though somewhat annoyed by the delay—I reclined back again; and for some few minutes longer gave way to my reflections. From these I was startled by the sudden stopping of the hackney-coach. It was quite dark, and now raining in torrents. The door was hastily opened—an umbrella, ready ex- panded, was held over my head by a man-servant —while a female threw a cloak upon my shoulders, the hood falling over my head. I had not the slightest doubt that these were Mr. Norman’s domestics. I hurried up the steps—hastily en- tered the hall—and then the conviction flashed to my mind that I was in a strange place. The front door was closed:—in mingled consternation and affright I glanced at the servants who had in- troduced me thither: their faces were unknown to me as the aspect of the hall itself! * Good heavens!” I said, “ there is some mis- take! I beg a thousand pardons for the intrusion and for the trouble I have given! Pray stop the hackney-coach But I recollect! I have not paid the man his fare !” “This way, Miss, if you please—it is all right,” said the female servant, who was a woman of about forty years of age, and with not a very pro- possessing countenance ; for though her tone was respectful, yet there was a lurking cunning in her eyes which filled me with alarm. *‘T tell you that I do not live here—and you must know it!” I exclaimed, as [I turned towards the front door. * You cannot leave the house, Miss,” said the man-servant—a tall, pompous-looking, half-inso- lent fellow, with a leer upon his lips. ‘* As Kate says, it’s all right. The coach is gone—and the man’s fare is paid.” I sank down upon one of the hall-chairs, gasp- ing in breathless terror. That I was the victim of some treachery, I now felt convinced. But sud- denly starting up, I summoned all my courage to my aid, saying, “Suffer me to depart immediately ! At your peril retain me here!” “The plain fact is, Miss,” replied the fuotman, “you are a prisoner—and it’s of no use to show any airs, because they won’t be attended to. Our orders are to treat you with respect; and this we are prepared to do. There are rooms ready for your reception; and you had better retire to them at once. ‘To-morrow perhaps you will seo some one who can tell you more about it.” ** Whose house is this?’ I demanded, iu a hoarsa voice—for I was terribly agitated: indeed I could scarcely prevent myself from shrieking out in the wildness of despair. “That question you must reserve for to-morrow, if you please, Miss,” replied the footman. “Our orders are to say as little as _possible, and to do your bidding in all things so long as we see that you don’t escape.” Again I sat down, overwhelmed with a sense of consternation and alarm. Who could possibly have done this? Whose house was it? Allina moment a suspicion flashed to my mind. That Colonel Bellew who had appeared to drop in acci- dentally to dine—who had regarded me with such bold libertine familiarity—and who had all along seemed to have some particularly intimate under- standing with Mr. Parks,—then the excuse for not sending me home in the carriage—and the substitution of the hackney-coach,—yes, every- thing combined to strengthen my suspicion that the whole proceedizg was a treacherous plot in which Mr. and Mrs. Parks were the vile accom- plices and Colonel Bellew was the principal! But I saw that it was useless to remonstrate with these domestics, and that perhaps if I appeared to submit patiently, some avenue of escape might present itself. I accordingly did my best to com- pose my feelings, and intimated to the female ser- vant that I would retire to the chamber provided for me. It was a magnificent house to which I had been brought. The hall was spacious, and adorned with statues. A marble staircase led up to a landing decorated with more statues and with immense porcelain vases. To the next landing we ascended; and there the female servant—who answered to name of Catherine—opened a door and conducted CONMNIEIOOKS ¢om