The Mysteries of London, Vol. IV — page 181: what you’re looking at

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W74 NUE MYSTERIES OF LONDON. oe mercy, Charles,” said Mr. Hatfield, in a low and pro- foundly mournful tone: “yes,—’tis the strange—the unnatural spectacle of a father imploring a son to forgive him—the father—the stain and the stigma which mark that son’s birth!” “Woly God! have I heard aright?” cjaculated Charles, pressing his hand to his orow ;—and, stagger- ing back, he sank on the sofa,—not in a swoon—not in & state of insensibility,—but stunned and stupefied, as it were—and yct retaining a maddening conscious- wess of all! “Yes,” continued his father, speaking in a sepulchral, uvearthly tone, and averting his head,—“you are, alas! illegitimate, my dear boy; and the hopes—the aspirations, which I know you have formed, are all baseless visions!” “And yet,” cried Charles, again starting suddenly from his seat, * you assured me—cmphatically assured me, that my mother was pure—innocent—stainless ;— and it was this averment that Icd me, in connexion with the discovery which I lately made of other great secrets,—it was this declaration on vour part, I say, which led me to form those hopes—indulge in those aspirations!” “Oh! my God—it is now that Iam to appear asa monster in your eyes, Charles!” exclaimed the wretched father, in a voice of bitter anguish: “and yct to guard against all future misconceptions, since past ones have wrought such deplorable mischicf —1 must reveal every thing to you! Yes—your mother was stainless —ivas pure—iwas innecent ;—and I—villain, miscreant that I was—I forcibly took from her that jewel of chastity —~—” “ Enough—cnough!” almost shriched forth Charles Uatficld, extending his hands imploringly: “ utter not another wurd—Il understand you too well already 1” “And you have reed the history of my past life, Charles—is it not so?” asked the unhappy pareut, “ Yos—yes: I know you have iead—in the naa! Register—the frightful narrative ia “ Father,” said the young man, rising, and grasping the hands of lus sire; ** you must not blush in the pre- sence of your son! Once for all, let me state that 1 do know every thing ;—and now Ict the past—so far as it regards yourself—be buried in oblivion. My imper- tinent curiosity first led me to make those researches into mysteries which I should never have sought to penetrate ;—and the knowledge I accidentally acquired, led me to furm hopes which Jhave cxercised a fatal in- (uence upon me! I discovered that you were the real Earl of Elingham; and, deeming myeelf to be your legitimately born son, 1 conceived that you had wronged me by Ikeeping me in darkness in respect to the title which I fancied to be my own,—in icspect, also, to the higher title to which 1 believed myself to be the heir! Nouw—now, I can no lunger blame you tur having observed so much mystery: Oh! no—on the contrary, I have rewarded all your kindness to- wards me, with the blachest ingratitude.” “Wo will pardon and forgive each other,” said Mr. {Tatficld, sulennly : “you shall pardon and forgive me for the stigma that attaches itself’ to your birth—you shall likowise pardon me your mother’s wrong:, even as she herself has long, lung since pardoned me: and J, on my part, will think no more of all that you have lately done—save to extricate you from the crucl em- barrassments in which by your hasty conduct, your imprudence, and your misconceptions, you have be- come involved Ina word, I will bo to you as a kind frend and adviser ;-—and if henceforth I may not hope for your affection~at loast I may reckon upon your gratitude.” “ Yes—both, both!’ cried Charles Uatfield, again embracing his father tenderly. “Oh! how wicked— how criminal I have been! Avveil has fallen from my eyes—my soul has lost its dogged obstinacy—-and I now perceive how ungrateful ] have been to my dear mother and yourself. But if it be not too late to repair the past,” he continued, retreating a few paces, and addressing bis parent with a tone and manner of solemn earnestness,—“ if it be not too late to regain my mother’s love and your’s also,—oh!} then the re- mainder of my life shall be wholly and solely devoted to that one object! Yes—I will reinstate myself in your esteem—I will prove by years of affection and obedience how bitter is my remorse and how sincere | is my repentance for the follies and indiscretions of a few weeks! But in the meantime, father—in the meantime, how am I to act towards the vile—the guilty woman, whom I lately loved so madly 2?” “ Where is she at present?” demanded Mr. Hat- ficld, profoundly touched by the contrition and altered feclings now manifested by his son. “1 Jeft her asleep in a chamber belonging to this suite,” was the reply. ‘Oh! I dare not mect her again—for I fear that 1 should spring upon her like a tiger, and sacrifice her to my resentment! For all my affection has now turned to a bitte-—burning hatred,—a hatred against herself and her more vile mother; and I am astounded when I reflect how com- pletely 1 have been deluded by them. It appears to me a dream—a vison! I can scarcely bring myself to conceive that I could possibly have been so insensate— so mad—so blind—so besotted! Oh! 1 could dash my head agaist the wall, to punish myself for this atrocious folly!” | And the young man struck his clenched fists forcibly | against his forchead. “ Compose yourself—in the name of God! compose | yourself," said his parent, rushing in upon him and re- | straining lim from the commission of farther violence. | “Give not way to despair, my dear son—mect your | ” misfortune with courage “Ob! it is easy thus to recommend patience and endurance, exclaimed Charles, bitterly: “ but think how cruelly I have been deceived! Iwas fascinated as by the eyes of a serpent ;—the magic of her charms, the melody of ber voice, the sophistry of her tongue, and the excitement of her caresses, threw spells of an irresistible nature upon inc: I was enchanted— held capuye in silken chains—dazzled by the almost super- human beauty of that prodigy of deceit and wanton- ness! J was not allowed time for refluction—suspi- cion had no Icisure to rise up in my bosom, mueb less to fix its habitation there;—for 1 was whirled along, as in a delirious dream, from the first instant that I met that woman until the instant when your revela- tions of this morning dispelled the entire illusion. The artfulness of that designing creature sustained a constant clysian excitement in my soul: a perpetual succession of insidious wilcs, of apparent proofs of deep tenderness, and of caresscs that would enthral the heart of a saint,—such—such was the magic ¢ course in which I was hurricd madly along. Fn- dowed with a wondrous presence of mind, she had a ready answer for every question that T put to her— eyen to the explanation of her singular name ;—and, with a guile as profound as it was ravishing—with an erfulneses as deep as it was calculated to enchant and captivate-suo invested the history Of her early days nc nO te ps ae oe a =a te ee ere nine 8S ee EConnicloooks (SO)