Ellen Percy; or, The Memoirs of an Actress — page 63: what you’re looking at

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

eee eee eee eee -_ 50 ELLEN PERCY; OR, THE MEMOIRS OF AN ACTRESS, “Give me your hand, Miss,” said Beda; “and I will lead you along. The court is dark—but I know my way thoroughly; I studied it well in the morning.” I had really hesitated through fear: I was now ashamed to display it—particularly after the little colloquy which had taken place between Beda and myself a few minutes back in reference to Black Ned: so I gave her my hand, and she led me into the court. When once the archway was passed under, the gloomy black clouds could be seen over-head, as I looked upward from between two ranges of buildings which were separated by an interval of about four yards, this being the width of the court. And now a feeble glimmering might be discerned through the dingy panes of three or four windows, or through the gaping chirks of some half-dilapidated shutters. But the deep si- lence still prevailed, as if it were ominous of impend- ing evil. Mischief seemed to be lying in ambush in that dark court, like a wild beast in its cave. “Tt is here,” said Beda, as she stopped at the door of one of the houses, which only appeared to be two storeys high above the ground floor. “ Shall I knock, Miss ?” “Yes,” I answered, now summoning all my fortitude to my aid. Beda knocked accordingly: three or four minutes elapsed before the summons drew any response—then a light which had been previously glimmering through the shutter of the ground- floor window disappeared—and the next moment a thin thread of light was thrown through the keyhole of the door. That door opened: and for a moment I looked in surprise to see who had thus opened it, and by whom the candle was carried ; for on a level with my own face I could distinguish no human being — naught but the passage which the light feebly revealed. In- stinctively lowering my gaze, 1 became aware of the presence of a hideous old man of dwarfish proportions. He positively was not more than three feet in stature; and contrary to the general rule which prevails amongst the stunted race, he had a very small head which hung over all on one side—not being so carried habitually, but evidently fixed in that position either by disease or some injury sustained. He had thin grey hair —shaggy overhanging grey brows—and a mouth which was all awry in the same direction as that in which the head bent over. I presently noticed likewise that the arm on the same side was stiff and motionless; so that I concluded the unfor- tunate wretch had received a paralytic stroke which had thus afflicted him. He was very meanly dressed: his threadbare patched black coat was much too large for bim, and the tails actually hung down to his heels. He had a sinister, penetrating, knowing look ; and as I glanced down upon him in the manner already described, I encountered his eyes so suddenly, as they were staring up at me, that for an instant I was seized with affright. It was the effect sustained by meeting the gaze of a reptile. “What do you want?” he inquired, in a quick harsh voice, as he held the candle to the height of the outstretched arm the use of which he pos- sessed; and I saw that he was endeavouring to penetrate with his regards through the thick black veils which covered our countenances. -— eee “Does a person named Gilderoy Hemp live here?” I inquired. *“ And if so be he does,” said the dwarf, “who may have sent you to ask for him ?” “The deceased Zarah,” I answered, in altered and mournful accents. “Ah! then perhaps you are Miss Percy?” at once exclaimed the old man, now raising himself on his tiptoes in his anxiety to peer up into my countenance. “ Yes—that is my name,” I rejoined. * And the other?” demanded the dwarf, fling- ing his looks with the rapidity of lightning upon my faithful attendant. “This is my young friend and companion, Beda,” was my response, “ All right!” said the dwarf, grinning with satis- fied significancy; so that his distorted mouth seemed to have the most horrible expression that can possibly be imagined, as it revealed a set of large yellow teeth. “Walk this way, Miss Percy. And you, Beda,” added the man with a signifi- cancy which [ regarded as allusive to my faithful dependant’s gipsy origin, “ have even a better right than your mistress to enter within these walls.” We crossed the threshold: the dwarf elosed the front door, and drew a somewhat heavy bolt into its socket. He then threw open a door leading from the passage, and desired us to pass into the room which was thus disclosed to our view. It was & back room: a light was burning tipon the table. The place was furnished with some little regard to comfort, though in a humble style: but there was a certain air of cleanliness which I scarcely expected to behold in such a house and in such a neighbourhood. The dwarf, closing the door, left me and Beda alone together: we heard him ascend the staircase—and then all was silent. “IT fancy, Beda,” I said in a whisper, “ that this place must constitute some species of head- quarters of the Zingari tribes; for that dwarf evidently alluded with emphasis to your special right to enter hither.” “I know, dear Miss, that there are houses in London,” interjected Beda, “ which the gipsies use as their head-quarters for a variety of purposes, For instance, it is the business of some to assume various disguises, frequent the West End of the town, throw themselves in the way of the servants of wealthy families, and by the exercise of a little ingenuity extract from them whatsoever gossip or tittle-tattle they may have to relate in reference to their masters and mistresses. All the particulars thus elicited are duly chronicled in a book for use on future occasions. It is likewise a favourite practice with these gipsies who go about thus dis- guised, to throw themselves in the way of nurse- maids in the Parks; and from the lips of those girls much information is obtained in respect to the families in whose service they live.” “ And how does this information serve the pur- poses of the gipsies?” I inquired. “ Perhaps it is to enable them to tell fortunes % “Precisely so,” responded Beda, “The morn- ing newspapers are regularly watched when the London season is over—notes are taken of the aristocratic and wealthy families going out of town to their country-seats—and then, by a reference to the book of records, it is seen what information has been gleaned in respect fo such-and-such Gomichboo ee ee ee oe ' ! ; a or ee <eom SS