The Mysteries of London, Vol. IV — page 74: what you’re looking at

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

pio ae — was" gis nephew. Oh! I knowit was Tom Rain: but stow came he thus alive?—by what means was ho resuscitated 2—who euatched him from the grave? No ~-no—I am not a drivelling fool—a dreaming Idiot, as my people said; I know full well that it was he— Icoutd not be mistaken;—and yet, 'tis impossible to say how he was snatched from death! Ie is married, too—marricd to Lady Georgiana Hatfield, whose name he has taken, And they are now all dwelling together at the mansion of the Earl of Ellingham in Pall Mall. 1 Ionged to go thither and tell Tom Rain—no, Mr. Hatfield, I mean—that I had recognised him,—tell him that in me he beheld the Miranda whom ha onco knew: but my people laughed at me—they told mo that Iwas in my dotaze—that I was dreuning—IJ, who have intellects avkecn a ever—ani sight sosharp that I knew my dearly-teloved Tom Rain in spite of his dyed heir and his changed aepect} Then my people foree t ne away with them ;—but they cannot prevent we from thinking of Tom Rain as much and a3 often as I choose!” Tho gipsyecrone ceaved 3 and now she seemed to lecome suddenly aware again that she was not alone. Sut nat reficctine that she had heen speaking aloud the whole time, and that her two guests had overheard every rvllablc she had uttered, she turned towards them, making rome remark of a perfectly indifferent character. Jt was casy to perceive that the poor old creature was half demented, in apite of her sclf-gratu- lation on the keennessof her intellects: but Perdita’s mother was sharp and far-seeing enough to know that many important truth were evidently commingled with the gipsy’s rhapsodical reminiscences. “You have journeyed far to-day?” said Miranda— for such indeed was the crone’s name. “ Many miles,” replicd Perdita’s mother: “but now that we are refreshed through your hindness, we shall puch more speedily on to London.” “Ah! you are taking that pretty child of your's to the great city, which we gipsics ablior and never visit unices on urgent occasions,” ob-erved Miranda. “What is your name, young oman? ” “* Perdita,” was the snswer. ~ “Perdital” repeated the gipsy. “That is a strange nams. We have singular names among:t our race: bat L never befure heard so remarkable a one as that which rou bear. What dus it mean? * “TYave names any meaning at all?” demanded Perdita’s mother, in a tone of impatience. “But, come, davghter—let us thank this good woman, and be of 1” The gipsy was however again rockin, herself to and fro before the fire, and scemed to have relapsed into ber profound reverie, cave that this time she did not give audiblo utterance to her musings. She was how- ever ro much absorbed in thought that she did not hear the thanks that were tendered by the wanderers, nor mark their departure. CHAPTER CXXVIIZ. IIE JOURNEY CONTINUED AND CONCLUDED. Perprra and her mother exchanged not a word until they reached the high road once more; but when their faces were again turned towards London, the latter exciaimed in atone of chuckling triumph, “"T'was 3 lucky chance which threw us in with that gipsy 1“? Oe nnn nnn LEE asa THE MYSTERIES OF LONDON. 67 “'Yos, mother—as far as obtainigg a" peocutnal was concerned,” replied Perdita. . “Silly child! it was the old crone’s talk that clicited the remark which I just made. Did you not hear the strange facts sho sufiered to ooze out in her idiotic musings? Did nothing strike you——” “Yes: herdescription of a young man of such divine beauty made so strong an impression upon me, that as Ou muy very veins appeared to rin with lightning,” inter- rupted Perdita. Ah!" cried her mother, evidently struck by a sudden thought: “you were pleased with her allusion to that handsome young gentleman? Well, Perdits —trust me when I declare emphatically that this sams young gentleman shall suc at your fect for those fa- yours which unasked you would this moment bestow upon him!” “Mother, you yourzelf will soon appear to me to be indulging in idiotic musings!” cried Perdita, half in delight—half in contemptuous incredulity. “You “ci saw this young man—you know nothing of im—" «Know nothing of: him!” repeated her mother, scornfully. “We know enough, Perdita, to compel a whole family to implore our forbearance and our merey,—to reduce that Mr. Hatfield, Lady Georgiana, and thir nephew to tho necessity of beseeching our silence on their bended knees!" “Do you really put faith in the rhodorontade of (lint gipsy about tho identity of tho ifr. Hatfield of whom sho spoke with 2 certain Tom Rain who had been hanged?” demanded Perdita, impatiently. “ Yes—beeause I know it to bo true!” ejaculated hiermother. “Listen, Perditas—you were not born at that time—but it was only a few months before your birth when the whole metropolis was astounded by the sudden discovery that Tom Rain, tho highway- man, was indeed alive. I was in London at the time——” “In Newgate, mother?” asked her daughter, as coolly as if it were the most coummon-place question. « Yos—in Newgate, if you must have me be particu- lar in every detail,” answered tho old harridan, bitterly, « Where I was born,” remarked Perdita. “One of the first places T shall request you to show me, will be that srme Newgate. But go on—I am listening attentively.” “Well, then—I was in Newgate at the time that all London was astounded by certain discoveries relative to this same Tom Rainford—all brought about in con- cequence of a dreadful murder committed by that very Senjamin Bones whom you heard tho gipsy mention, The story is too long to tell yon now; but you shall have it shortly in its fullest details—for if may regard our interests more nearly than you at present imagine. One fact I must however state,—which is that Thomas Nainford was a famous highwayman who was hanged, and that by some means which never transpired, he was rescued from death—resuscitated, in fine. Ho reecived the royal pardon for all the deeds ho hail committed in opposition to the laws; and what affer wards became of him I knew not-——” « Because you had to leave England in pursuance of your sentence, I suppose, mother?” added Perdita, enquiringly. “Precisely so. And now chance throws us in tho way of an old crone who, in the audible musings of dotage, informs us that this same Tom Rain is actually nving under a felgned name--nye, and at the msnzion of the Earl of Ellingham. Itis clear that the gipsy co G DOO SS (SO