Ellen Percy; or, The Memoirs of an Actress — page 266: what you’re looking at

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

QV e—OC_—_— ELLEN PERCY; OR, THE locked the private door—and when we had entered I carefully relocked it. In a few moments we were in the boudoir. Lady Kelvedon bestowed the kindest welcome upon the old gipsy-woman, and replied with cheerfulness to the questions that were put to her. The dame was very minute in these queries; and I could presently judge by the an- swers that the crone would resolve upon taking me to London to become the means of conveying the new drug that was required, into the possession of Lady Kelvedon. Nor was I wrong in my conjec- ture; for after having finished her catechising, Dame Betty said, “ Yes, it isas I thought! The work is already sure enough—but it will alike be surer and quicker under the influence of the drug that is now wanting. I won’t undertake to send it by post, or yet by parcel——” “T have already declared my willingness to ac- company you,” I said. “We will set off pre- sently ; and if I cannot immediately return to Kelvedon Hall, I will send a faithful messengor ” (thus alluding to Beda), “‘to whom her ladyship will give ready access.” * Oh, but you must return, my dear Ellen!” exclaimed Hermione: “you must come in per- son, and not by deputy!—for you know how dull I shall be without you !” “TI will come, if possible,’ was my answer. “ And now about the postchaise pm “Your ladyship will continue to take that draught,” said Dame Betty, “ which I prepared last evening. I hope to be enabled to see you again at the end of a week: but if you should chance to have emptied the decanter before my arrival, you must make yourself a fresh supply. Here is a little box of ingredients; and a slip of paper which I have placed inside, indicates the quantities to be used. I shall send special direc- tions with the other drug which I am about to procure in London.—I have now nothing niore to say. What o’clock is it?” “ Half-past six,” I said, looking at my watch. “Well,” rejoined Dame Betty, “in an hour we ought to start. I will be at the appointed spot, Miss Percy ; and I must trespass on your good- ness to take me all the way up to London. It is night-time—and therefore no one need perceive that you have got an old gipsy as your com- panion.” I now conducted the dame out of the bou- doir; but when we reached the private door at the bottom of the staircase, I peeped cautiously forth into the garden ere I suffered the dame to cross the threshold ; for I feared the young woman who had promised to write the letter, and who I had no doubt was Agatha, mighé be flitting to the spot where she was to deposit the correspondence until it should suit her lover to return and fetch it away. But the coast was clear; and Dame Betty emerged from the premises under my escort, with- out any incident to molest or alarm us, I waited near the garden-gate until her form was com- pletely lost in the surrounding obscurity; and them with a heart palpitating with suspense, I sped to the nearest vase, I thrust in my hand: no letter was there! I then sped forward to the next vase—but still no letter. The third vase to which I proceeded, was the very one which has before been mentioned in reference to the in- structions I had given to Dame Betty. I thrust in MEMOIRS OF AN ACTRESS, _—_ - LL eg 253 my hand. Yes! —there was a paper package | lying beneath two or three stones at the bottom of the vase. I unhesitatingly took possession of the packet, and speedily retraced my way to the private door, which I reached unobserved. In a few moments more I was in the boudoir, the door of which I at once unlocked; and ringing the bell, I said to Hermione, “ I am forced to depart, you see: but it is for your good. The old woman is cautious and will trust to no means of transport or con- veyance except the hands of a friend in supply- ing you with the additional drug which is now alone required to render your cure certain.” Agatha answered the bell; and I said to the young woman, “ Have the kindness to order the postchaise to be ready in about three quarters of an hour.” “Yes, Miss,” she answered, and then with- drew. I had watched her attentively; but there was not the slightest change in her countenance, and a stranger would have thought that it was to her a matter of the most perfect indifference whether I went away or whether I stopped. “‘ Good heavens!” I mentally ejaculated, “ what consummate hypocrisy !” I now proceeded to my own chamber under pre- tence of making some little change in my toilet previous to my departure—but in reality to have an opportunity of being alone for a short space. But scarcely had I entered that room when Matilda made her appearance, exclaiming, “ Oh, Miss! this is really quite unexpected, this sudden departure! Allow me to pack your port- manteau fe “Thank you, Matilda,” I answered ; “ you shall pack it presently for me. I wish to be alone for a quarter of an hour or so,” I added in a kind tone. The young woman retired. I then locked the door, and, drew forth tbe brown paper packet which I had secured beneath the folds of my dress. I found that the brown paper was merely to protect the letter which it enclosed from getting damp or soiled at the bottom of the vase, for there was no writing upon that envelope. The letter itself was addressed to Mr. Collingwood, at the Hotel du Nord, Boulogne. The writing was that of a woman, but evidently feigned—a fact which was all the more apparent from the circumstance of the letters being made to lean the wrong way, |. as if the pen had been held in the left hand, I unhesitatingly broke the seal of the letter, and proceeded to scan its contents. These were brief, and were penned in a similar fashion to tho writing of the address. They ran as follow:— ** December 14, 1842. “Ellen Percy is at the Hall. She first of all paid a flying visit the day before yesterday in the morning; then she went away and came back again yesterday evening. I donot know how long she means to stop; but I don’t think it will be for any length of time, as she keeps the postchaise, horses, and postilion there. There is nothing else to say. Everything at present goes on as usual, The sick one is no better, But whether the visit of H. P. will make any difference—or what if may ; lead to—or what it means, is more than I can say. ae tend ten snes pion penne rr a ce JOO LALMUCS (C(O SS (E(0)