Penny Dreadfuls, 1854 · page 137 of 399
Joseph Wilmot, or, The Memoirs of a Man-Servant — page 137: what you’re looking at
A restored page from Penny Dreadfuls, 1854. Page through the whole issue in the reader above.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
424 trust me!” she cried: and I could feel by the movement of her form that she was wringing her hands in despair. “Good heavens! to think that one so young as I should have seen so much misery !—that one who never by thought or deed injured a fellow-creature, should have been so cruelly persecuted! And yet,” she exclaimed, with another rapid transition from the bitter feel- ings of despair to an exultant joy, “ you have | promised to take me to Magliano—and I may yet Oh, yes—I will, 1 will ensure my safety 3) be safe! —for I will walk throughout the entire night “ No—you shall not do that!” I answered, deeply affected: for I thought at the moment that if Annabel, for instance, had ever found the neces- sity of escaping from persecution at the hands of such a wretch as Lanover, how magnanimous would it have been in any one to succour her, and how cruel to insist upon formal and methodical explanations before consenting to render such assistance! “ You shall not go forth as a wan- derer—-I will place confidence in you—I will trust to your good feeling not to deceive me, nor wil- fully to lead me into embarrassment or peril by affording you all the assistance your require.” My companion could only give utterance to broken words in testimony of her gratitude, which was evidently most heartfelt: then she threw her- self back in the corner of the chaise, and gave free vent to her emotions. I could hear that she was weeping: but being utterly unacquainted with the nature of her griefs, as well as with the reason why she should experience joy at her escape, I was unable to offer consolation, or do more than I had already done to soothe the agitation of her mind. In a few minutes the equipage entered a small town, and drew up at the post-house. I was about to descend in order to put a hurried ques- tion to the postilion—to ascertain, if I could, what mansion or place it was in the neighbourhood of which I had fallen in with my unknown com- panion, and whence I conjectured that she hac escaped. But at the first movement that I made to put down the window, she caught me by the arm, exclaiming, “ For heaven’s sake leave me not !—leave me not, I beseech you!” There was such a wild terror mingled with such a deep earnest entreaty in her accents, that it would have been cruel to refuse acquiescence with her eager prayer; and moreover she was evidently reposing in me that supreme confidence which I could not feel it in my heart to shock with any rude rebuff. Her mind too was in such a state that I feared lest the least degree of an increased excitement should unhinge it altogether. It was impossible to avoid compassionating her deeply ; and I therefore yielded to her entreaty by remain- ing in the vehicle. The fresh relay was. har- nessed—a new postilion came to the window to receive my instructions—I simply spoke the word “Magliano”—he mounted his horse—and on we went. My companion continued silent for a long time; and I began to think it strange that she did not strive to compose her feelings sufficiently to vouch- safe some few words of explanation. I was cast- ing about in my mind how to renew the discourse without appearing to be ungenerously availing myself of my position towards her for the purpose of extorting that which she did not seem inclined JOSEPH WILMOT ; OR, THE MEMOIRS OF A MAN-SERVANT. voluntarily to give—when she abruptly broke the silence by exclaiming, “How admirable is your conduct! how nobly are you behaving! Tell me what is your name, and to what country you be- long—that I may know how to speak of you in my prayers, and that I may evermore think well of a nation whereof you are so estimable a spe.- cimen.” JT answered her questions ; and gently added, “May I not expect the same degree of confidence from you ?” “T cannot reply,” she responded in a low voice: and I felt that a shudder swept through her form as she sate by my side. “ You think all this strange—you must think so—but there are reasons Oh! for heaven’s sake do not for an instant imagine that I have disgraced my name and there- fore am ashamed to breathe it! It isas unsullied as when I inherited it on the day of my birth !” These last words were spoken proudly, and car- ried with them the conviction of their own sin- cerity : or at least such was the impression they made upon my mind. “ Tf there were a living being,” she almost im- mediately resumed, “ to whose ear I could at this moment reveal all the circumstances which enmesh me, you are that person: for unto you do I owe a debt of gratitude that I can never pay. But for the present there is a seal upon my lips: it rests heavily and almost awfully there—it cannot be lifted until these circumstances to which I have alluded shall change—if they ever do !” These few last words, uttered after a brief pause, were spoken with a solemn mournfulness ; and then there was another interval of silence. “You are too generous,” presently resumed my companion, “to press me for explanations which I cannot give; and I therefore throw myself entirely upon your magnanimity. May the Holy Virgin grant that the day shall come when my lips will be unsealed Oh, what happiness if my prayer should be vouchsafed! You said ere now that you were going to Rome—and I judge from a few words which you let drop, that you are travelling for your pleasure, and that therefore you are fully master of your time? Would you—Oh! would you take me straight on to Rome, instead of stopping for the night at Magliano, or any other intermediate place ?” “And when you get to Rome,” I inquired, “ whither shall you go? Have you a home to re. ceive you?” “Ask me no questions—at least not now!” abruptly exclaimed my companion in a paroxysm of feverish excitement. ‘‘ Remember that those actions are most generous which are done in a blind confidence : and this much generosity I implore at your hands. Do I seck in vain? No, no— I feel that my prayer is granted! Mpyriads, myriads of thanks!” And then I felt my hand suddenly seized, and pressed between two small ones: but only for an instant was it retained in that clasp: there was the bashfullest delicacy even in the midst of that enthusiastic expression of the stranger’s warmest gratitude. What could I do? what could I say? Refuse to take her at once on to Rome ? No—it was impossible. And then, too, methought that the sooner I parted from my companion, and thus extricated myself from a position more > CORNIEGLOO@ gs) (E(0)