Ellen Percy; or, The Memoirs of an Actress — page 193: what you’re looking at

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—— 180 his departure. I was again rejoiced to think that circumstances should have so progressed as to save me the necessity of going forward to make those statements which would have thrown a slur upon the memory of the deceased Zarah: but I won- dered that Dame Betty should have been absent from the police-court—or at least that she should have abstained from taking any step in pur: suance of the menaces she had so emphatically held out. I thought that she must have cooled over the matter, and must have preferred consult- ing her own safety to the adoption of a courss which would have involved herself in ruin along with others, Three weeks now passed away ; and during this interval I neither heard nor saw anything of the old gipsy-woman. I told Beda that I had reason to believe that she was in London: but my faithful dependant also failed to encounter her. I saw Beatrice three or four times: I learnt that Signor Ludovico Marano was remaining in the British metropolis ; but I did not again fall in with him during this period. JI however could full well guess—though I did not mention my idea to Bea- trice—that he was anxious to behold the condem- nation and execution of the man who had been the cause of his beloved cousin’s dreadful death. In reference to Luigi himself, I read occasional para- graphs in the newspapers. He continued most contrite and devout, according to those statements ; and he was frequently attended by the Italian Catholic priest who had in the first instance urged him to confession. But during this interval of three weeks, an oc- currence took place which seemed partly to corro- borate my recently formed idea that Edwin St. Clair’s star was on the wane. There was a sud- den breaking up of the Ministry to which he belonged; and he was ejected from office. It was then said that gross mismanagement and favour- itism had been displayed in the department over which he had presided ; and though some few jour- nals defended him, alleging that his enemies were now bestowing a coward kick upon the dead lion, and his conduct had been unimpeachable,—yet the great majority of the public prints animadverted severely upon his Ministerial conduct, and declared that when parliament should meet again there must inevitably be a strict investigation into it. And now the sessions of the Central Criminal Court commenced, on a Monday morning as usual. The Recorder, in making his charge to the Grand Jury, alluded to the case of Luigi. His lordship’s observations were however brief; for he said that the Grand Jury would have no difficulty in finding true bills on the prisoner’s own confession. These bills were found accordingly. The trial—if such it could be called, when a culprit intended to plead guilty—was to take place on the Wednesday morn- ing; and again I wondered whether Dame Betty would seize that occasion to take any step in pur- suance of her menace, or whether she had alto- gether abandoned the idea in regard to her own Bafety. It was about nine o’clock on the Tuesday even- ing—and I was seated alone in the drawing-room, Mary Glentworth being at the theatre—I was thinking how the events of the morrow would pass off,—when Beda came rushing into the apartment, followed Ey William Lardnez, The looks of both were troubled ; and by the general excitement of eu er —=_ ee ELLEN PERCY; OR, THE MEMOIRS OF AN ACTRESS, their manner I saw that something had happened. “Oh, dear Miss!” exclaimed Beda: “the rose- wood box * “What of it?” I demanded, glancing towards William ; but not perceiving it in his hands, my suspicion of some mishap was confirmed. I should here obsetve that it was about five weeks since William had undertaken the task of procuring the rosewood box, and that he had hitherto failed in accomplishing his design. “Pardon me, Miss Percy!” he said, with a troubled countenance: “but I did my best,—and if I have been forestalled by another-——” “Forestalled?”’ I ejaculated. “What do you mean, William ?” “T mean, Miss,” he mournfully responded, “ that what I have failed in seven weeks to do, an old gipsy has done in a single day—nay, almost in a single hour!” “And that gipsy!” exclaimed Beda, “is Damo Betty! I am sure of it by William’s description ! ” “TI thought so,” I remarked, “the moment I heard the statement made !”—and now I was smit- ten with the conviction that the wily old hag had been merely biding her time, and that something was pending for the morrow. “ But explain your- self, William. Iam sure you are not to blame— and I shall not be in haste to accuse you of neglect.” “Ob, thank you, Miss!’’ he said, in accents of fervour. “ What I have to tell you is but short. In the first instance, as you know, Mrs, Holman, Mr. St. Clair’s housekeeper, took a fancy to me |! and treated me with kindness. I soon got a foot- ing in the house, taking great care however to avoid encountering Mr. St. Clair himself—which was not very difficult, for he is so seldom at home. I devised every plan—I watched every opportu- nity. I pretended to admire the furniture and the pictures in the different rooms, and to be always anxious to go over the house. Mrs, Holman used to humour me, as she fancied she was doing: but I never could catch a glimpse of the rosewood box. I tried to draw her into conversation upon the subject of the numerous curiosities which were lying about,—hinting that there might be others locked up, and which I should like to see. She did open several cabinets and cupboards, displaying a variety of curious things—but never the one for which I was so anxiously on the look-out. Indeed, I never could get her to take me into her master’s bed- room—where, from the information you originally sent me by Beda, Miss, I thought the rosewood box must most probably be secured. ‘Thus the time has passed until now.” “Proceed, William,” I said. ‘You have done all that you could in the matter; and less than ever am I disposed to blame you for failure.” “Tam now going to speak of to-day, Miss,” resumed Lardner. “ Mr. St. Clair went out shortly after eleven o’clock in the forenoon; and I called as usual upon Mrs. Holman. As I was coming out of the house, I saw an old gipsy woman stand- ing at a little distance, in earnest conversation with a girl whom I at once recognised to be Mr. St. Clair’s housemaid—Emma by name. She isa good-looking young woman—fresh from the coun- try, for she has only been in the service some few weeks; and while on the one hand I had noticed i as ee ee a a ee / i 0)(0/0) SS (E(o) % ~