The Mysteries of London, Vol. IV — page 239: what you’re looking at

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ae discussing some grand political question, sume fire or six hundred pickpockets and mischicerous boys are certain to intrude themeclyes into the asseme blige? Why—black sheep even find their way into the IIouses of Parliament—are, and into the verg suite of Rovalty itself, v * s ¢ 4 y as t 4 & But after recording all the above observations, we must once more declare that we do not recommend violence: wo insist upon the necessity of a grand moral agitation—an agitation which shall pervade the entire corntry, as an ocean is roused by the storm into a mass of mighty waves, Tho people must assume an imposing attitude; and let the memorable words of Lafayette be repeated by every tongue :— For a nation to love liberty, tt is sufficient that she knows it; and fora nation to be free, it ts sufficient that she wills tts” And, oh! my fellow-countrymen, let not this glorious thesis be used inyain! Dy the misery and starvation which millions of ye endure—by the hopeless entombment to which the Poor Law Bastilles condemn ye, when work fails—by tho de- nial of an honest recognition of the rights of labour, which is insolently persisted in—by the spectacle of your famished wives and little ones—by the naked walls of the wretched hovelsin which the labouring population dwells —by tho blinding toil of the poor svamstress—by the insults heaped on ye by a rapa- cious aristocracy and an intolerant clergy—by the right which a despicable oligarchy usurps to hold the reins of power-——by the limited suffrage which leaves the millions unrepresented—by tlic oppressive weight of taxation laid upon the productive classes —by the sorrows which the hard-working operative endures throughout his virility, and the misery that attends upon his decrepitude—by the badge of pauperism that the sons and daughters of toil are compelled to wear in the accursed Union-houses,— by all your wrongs, we adjure ye not to remain at rest—not to endure the yoke which ye can cast off in a moment—not to stand still and gazo listlessly, ‘while all the rest of the civilised world is in mo- tion | x? % * * * x * * * * * Returning from this digression to tho thread of our narrative, wo will suppose that Mrs. Mortimer has at length arrived at the house in Park Square, and that she is already seated with the young no- bleman, who little suspected the infamous character of tho woman whom he had admitted to his confi- dence. “T have been looking forward with much impa- vlence and anxiety to your coming,” said Lord Wil- liam: © but even now that you are here, J know not rm which manner you can assist me.” “ Faint heart never won fair lady, my lord,” returned the old woman; “and you must take courage. The masim which I quoted is a good one.” “T do not despair, madam,” said the young no- bleman: “and yot I seem as if I were involved ina deep mist, through which I cannot cyen grope iny way. Alone and unassisted, I cannot hope to ob- tain access to that charming creature; and, if as- sisted, I will do nothing that shall violatothe respect des to one so pure of heart as I believe her to be.” 1) ORA TIE MYSTERIES OF LONDON, ‘FT should have proposed to become the bearer of a letter from your lordship to Miss Vernon,” remarked Mrs, Mortimer, coldly: “but, pereciving beforchand that your seruples are orer nice and your notions somewhat of the most fastidious, I really de not see how J can serve you.” “Tam afraid to write to her—she would perhaps be offended toan extent that might be irremediable,” exclaimed Lord William, a prey to the most cruel bewilderment. “And yet your lordship once endeavoured to bribo the sorvant-girl to become the bearer of your ama- tory epistle,” said Mrs, Mortimer, in a tone of sar- casm—almost of dispust. “Now you are offended with me,” cried the young nobleman, “It istruo thant I did pen a let- ter to Agnes—telling her how much I loved her and how honourable were my intentions—implor- ing her likewise to grant me a few moments’ inter- view, and to pardon the means that I thus adopted of accosting her, having no other mode of procuring an introduction. Such a letter I did tndeed write,” continued Trevelyan: “but itwas in a fit of de- spair—of madness—of insensate recklessness,—lI know not how to explain myself! Tho servant refused to deliver that note—and my cyes were immediately opened to the impropriety of the pro- ceeding which I had adopted.” “And you therefore decline to entrust tne, who am well acquainted with Agnes, to deliver a similar letter into her hand? Your lordship is wrong in thus refusing to be guided by me,” continued tho crafty old woman, “Think you that with one so innocent, so artless as Agnes, I cannot prepare the way to render your letter acceptable—at least to provent it from producing a sudden shock to her notions of mnidenly propricty ?” “ Much as I should be rejotced could you accom- plish that aim,” said Trevelyan, “I should be ten thousand times happier were you able to procure me an interview with her.” «This is madness!” exclaimed the old woman, ‘Can I not moro easily induce her to read a letter from a stranger, than to receive that stranger in person? Is not the letter the first and most natural step to the visit? Trust to me, my lord: I know the disposition of Agnes—I understand affairs of this nature—and I am also well aware that love blinds you to the ways of prudence.” * Bo it, then, as you propose,” said Lord William, after a long pause, during which he reflected pro- foundly. “I will write the letter this evening: will you call for it early to-morrow morning ?” “¥ wii,’ answerered the old woman: “and In less than twenty-four hours I will undertake to bring you tidings calculated to encourage hope— or Tam very much mistaken,” she added emphati- cally. “You do not believe—you have no reason to suppose that the father of Agnes already destines her to become the bride of some person of his own choice?” asked Trevelyan, now for tho first time shaping in words an idea that had haunted him for some days past. “ Because,” he continued, spdak- ing with the rapidity of excitement, “I cannot pos sibly comprehend wherefore he compels her to dwell in that strict seclusion.” “ {do not believe that you have any such cauce for apprehension,” said Mrs. Mortimer, in a tone of confidence—as if she were well able to give cso species of assurance which she so emphatically con» EConnicloooks (SO)