Ellen Percy; or, The Memoirs of an Actress — page 202: what you’re looking at

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

~-_ oo Se ELLEN PERCY; OR, THE MEMOIRS OF AN ACTRESS. said Ludovico Marano,—“ I on behalf of the cousin | whom I loved as a brother!—you on behalf of | that same Angelo whom you at one time loved so | tenderly, and who perished so prematurely and so fearfully! Yes, Beatrice—it is done! and all that | I promised to do I have accomplished! So well has everything been managed, that detection is impossible! And now, dearest Beatrice, tell me if I may at length fall at your feet and implore that you will bestow this fair hand upon me ?” “Yes, Ludovico,’ responded the low tremulous voice of the Countess of Carboni: “I will accom- pany you to the altar! Yes—I feel that I can love you !—for youare like your cousin Angelo and what is more, you have avenged him! Oh, revenge is sweet, Ludovico!—and IJ, though Eng- lish by birth, nevertheless feel as if Italian blood rolled in my veins when I think of revenge!” “Yes, dearest Beatrice—revenge is sweet when it is the all-absorbing passion,” rejoined Ludovico: “but afterwards—Oh! how infinitely sweeter is love! Revenge is the fierce passion which intoxi- cates as with brandy; but love is the sentiment which produces a dulcet ebriety as if with delicious wine! And Oh! I, Beatrice, after having experi- enced the former, am now tasting of the latter! Say, dearest—how is it with youP” With me likewise, Ludovico. Now leave me,” murmuringly answered the voice of Beatrice; “ for | I must reflect upon all you have said—and I must think upon the terms in which £ shall break to my sister and my brother-in-law the intelligence that I have accepted the offer of your hand.” I now heard the sound of kisses; and gud- denly seized with affright on account of my position at that door—fearful of being taxed with the meanness and baseness of wilful eavesdropping —remembering too that on a former occasion I had shown how I had overheard something which passed at the time between these self-same persons —I attempted to beat a precipitate retreat. I rushed to the top of the stairs: I descended half- a-dozen of them—I was perhaps never so com- pletely deprived of all self-possession, so confused and bewildered! The conversation itself which I overheard had first of all thrown me into a per. turbed and excited state; and then came the sud- den dread of being caught in the act of playing the eavesdropper. But when I had descended those half-dozen stairs, I stopped short—I re- gained my fortitude—I said to myself, “ My car- riage will be seen at the door: it is now too late to retreat—I must return and see Beatrice !” I accordingly began at once to retrace my steps; and on the top of the stairs I encountered Ludovico Marano, who was just issuing from the drawing-room. “Ah, Miss Percy!” he said, bowing with that profound courtesy which is adopted by all fo- reigners: “I have the honour to salute you.” 1 had not once seen Signor Marano since the day of my introduction to him; and now, as I glanced at his countenance, I was struck by the conviction that he was changed in some respect or another:—he did not look like the same being I had previously seen. Indeed, | might have even passed without recognising him if he had not first addressed me. 1 started—I again looked at him; and now methought that he himself was trembling with confusion and becoming over- | -_—_——_ < —_- ree ee es ee ee 189 whelmed with embarrassment. An idea smote me with lightning rapidity; and I perceived how and where he was changed. That profusion of black hair, shining with a rich gloss and curling naturally, was gone: if was all cropped close! The whiskers that had been trimmed with such precision, and which had seemed to serve as an ebon frame for the dusky-complexioned counte- nance,—those whiskers were likewise gone! And the moustache, pointed and slightly curled at the corners of the mouth—z¢hat had likewise disap- peared! No wonder that I should have deemed him altered! But why was it? Oh! I literally started as if galvanized when a thought struck me. Ah! and that thought instantaneously became a conviction. I understood it all! — Ludovico Marano had played the part of the Roman Catho- lic priest to the wretched Luigi! * Hllen, dearest Ellen—is that you 2” exclaimed the voice of Beatrice, who having heard Ludo- vico Marano address me, now came forth from the drawing-room. But I could not answer. There I stood gazing with mingled horror and consternation upon the Italian; and I felt that my face must be as ghastly as that of a corpse. He himself, having previously looked confused, could no longer doubt that there was something wrong; and turning hastily to- wards the Countess of Carboni, he said something in Italian, which from a certain trifling knowledge I had obtained of the language, I felt assured was to this effect—“I go at once! Let us meet in Paris !”’ He bowed, and endeavoured to pass me hastily : but I caught him by the arm, saying in a low voice and with painful utterance—for I was almost overwhelmed by all that was in my mind—“ Stop, Signor! you cannot depart thus! You have & crime to answer for! Complicity in a man’s suicide is by the law of England murder !” His somewhat dusky countenance became of a dead sallow paleness, and his naturally handsome eyes suddenly gazed upon me with a hollow hag- gard expression. * No, no, dearest Ellen! you would not do this !” murmured Beatrice, in an imploring tone. “ For God’s sake let him depart! He is to become my husband ; and—and—I love him!”’ My hand dropped from its grasp upon Ludo- vico Marano’s sleeve! I could not resist that ap- peal so piteously and so earnestly made by the soft tremulous voice of Beatrice. Ludovico Marano flung upon me a look of indescribable gratitude ; and he hastily descended the stairs, while I slowly followed Beatrice into the drawing-room. Fe CHAPTER XCVII. THE TWO TRAVELLING-CARRIAGES. Iv was slowly that I thus followed in the footsteps of Beatrice: for I could not help feeling that I had been guilty of a weakness, and had, so to speak, proved unfaithful to the cause of rigorous justice in suffering Ludovico Marano to escape. There was a shade of melancholy upon my counte- nance, doubtless appearing akin to the languor of my footsteps; and I felt that a gulf had opened tities nile ee ae —_ ~ ~_ LLL A ET A ES ET a a mt en ig Gomiichboo SS (Eo)