Ellen Percy; or, The Memoirs of an Actress — page 363: what you’re looking at

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

To Mee cee Me BPN ee aa 350 ELLEN PERCY; @R, THE MEMOIRS OF AN ACTRESS, “ What ?” ejaculated Mr. Tremaine:—*“ then you are inquiring about the Wakefields of War- wickshire, and you have not examined the registers at Embledon ?” * Embledon ?” I echoed, struck with the coin- cidence that the name of this place which had at one time been so often uppermost in my thoughts, should now again be forcibly presented to my con- templation. “No! Are there any particular re- gisters at Embledon ?” * Most assuredly,” answered Mr. Tremaine. “You are not far from thence—only about thirty miles or so. You are welcome to take the travel- ling-carriage — and a pair of post-horses will speedily convey you thither.” “The business of searching the registers,” I said, “may detain me more than a few hours: I might even be kept some days at Embledon. I will take a postchaise; and as it is really a matter of the greatest consequence that I should ascer- tain this point with the least possible delay, will you kindly excuse my absence for a_ short time P “Do as you like, my dear Ellen,” interrupted Mr. Tremaine: “make this house your home— come and go as you think fit! You need men- tion your business to nobody: it is sufficient that - you have something to do at Embledon for a few days. As for the travelling-carriage, you had better take it———” “No—lI would rather not,” I answered. “ It is my wish to transact this business secretly and quietly for the present; because if my inquiries should turn out to be unfavourable, then no one need know that any hope of a particular character had been entertained. Permit me therefore to travel by the less ostentatious means of a hired postchaise.” “Be it as you will, my dear Ellen,” answered Mr. Tremaine ; “and remember that if in any way I can assist you in your proceedings, you may command my services.” A valid excuse for leaving Tremaine Hall at that particular crisis, was what for the last four and twenty hours I had teen endeavouring to find; and now it presented itself all in a moment. I should thus avoid the painful embarrassment of encountering Reginald Barron. A servant was despatched to a village in the neighbourhood where a postchaise might be procured; and by the aid of Mr. Tremaine I was enabled to make such ex- cuses to his brother, his wife, and his daughters, for my sudden departure, as to prevent them from considering it to be associated with either strange- ness or rudeness. I bade farewell to Miss Barron, earnestly expressing the hope that on my return at the expiration of a few days I should find her rapidly progressing towards convalescence; and I then took my departure, accompanied by the faithful Beda. ? CHAPTER CXXV. THE HUNTING PARTY. WHEN we were seated in the postchaise together, I proceeded to examine the contents of the packet which I had received from Mrs. Sturton. I had —_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—=—"—"OX€_—O8PlLSSI_ previously looked over them at Tremaine Hall as well as at the hotel at Stafford; but I had found no baptismal certificates from the parish of Emble- don. Now however that I examined some of the memoranda with greater minuteness than I had hitherto done, I found occasional references made to certificates which might be seen in the regis- ters of marriages, baptisms, and deaths, in that parish. Thus Mr. Tremaine’s information was confirmed: but still I wondered why amongst this packet of papegs there should be such a complete absence of every possible document that could in any way connect the late Gerald Wakefield with the Wakefields of Warwickshire. . *T almost fear,” I said to Beda, “that I am bent on a fruitless journey to Embledon; for if the registers there had been enabled to furnish Gereld Wakefield with certain certificates, they would doubtless be found amongst the contents of this packet.” “With due deference to you, dear Miss,” re- plied Beda, “it does not at all follow. Mr. Gerald Wakefield may have lost certain certificates —or they may have been amongst other papers— or he may have known where to procure them so readily that it was quite as natural he should be without them as that you yourself, Miss Percy, are now travelling without yours.” “Tt is not quite the same thing, Beda,” I an- swered, with a smile, “considering that Mr. Gerald Wakefield had to make out a particular lineage—which I have not. However, we shall see.” The postchaise drove on; and presently it en- tered, from a maze of lanes, upon the broad route which led direct towards Embiedon and thence to Birmingham. At the expiration of about three hours and a half, after leaving Tre- maine Hall, we reached the brow of a hill whence the first glimpse might be obtained of the little village which was situated in the depth of the valley. When first I had seen it exactly two years and three months back—namely, in the autumn of 1840—it was embowered in verdure, and the rivulet meandering through the vale looked like an irregular line of quicksilver. But now, in the middle of winter, the trees were denuded of their foliage—the hollow wind moaned through the skeleton boughs—and there was the ice-spell upon the stream. My heart swelled with emo- tions as I recollected that it was there—in that village—I first learnt that I had a father still living, and that I was clasped in the arms of that parent, for whom I had since done so much, and who had so completely repented of the misdeeds of his past life! I had now very few secrets from Beda; and the subject to which I have just alluded was known to her. She therefore compre- hended why the tears were trickling down my cheeks: she took my hand and pressed it; she gazed affectionately upon me—and upon her own ebon lashes were the teardrops now hanging as if they were liquid diamonds. She loved me as if she were a sister: she smiled when I smiled, or she wept whes I wept—there was a marvellous sympathy on the part of that beautiful young girl towards myself. It was about three o’clock in the afternoon as we entered the village of Embledon. I had already told the postilion to drive to the principal tavern: CORNIGLOOOLK< (E@)