The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 367: what you’re looking at

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

558 poso she is a woman of high rank. I saw the coro- net quite plain while I was standing behind her at dinner-time. And then, don’t you think that if there wasn’t some reason for keeping her name secret, the Prince would have alluded to her otherwise than as ‘this lady.” Of course he would.” “You are admirably sharp-witted, Julia!” ex- claimed Mr. Page, delighted with his wife’s pene- tration. “These points that you have mentioned are very important indeed.” “To be sure they are,” returned the young woman : “and if you could only find out who this lady is, there’s no telling how many thousands of pounds we might get to bribe us to secrecy.” * But how can I manage? What do you suggest?” demanded Page. “ There’s only one way that I know of,” responded Julia; “and that is to listen at the door of their room. Ten to one but what you will be able to giean from their conversation something to put you on the right scent.” “By Jove! it shall be done,” ejaculated the ex- traveller, bounding from his seat. “We have lost the precious documents containing thecorrespondence between your late kinswoman Hannah and Lady Stamford: but we won't let this new opportunity of feathering our nest slip through our fingers. Which is the room where the Prince and his fair lady are to pass the night ?” “The second door on the other side of the passage,” answered Julia. “ All right,” said Page, putting off his shoes: then, carefully issuing from the chamber, he stole noise- lessly along the corridor until he reached the vicinage of the Prince’s apartment. Julia stood holding the light at the threshold of her own room until she saw that her husband had reached the proper destination: she then withdrew, closing the door—so that a profound darkness now reigned in the passage. And silence prevailed throughout the mansion. But in a few minutes Mr. Page, whose ear was closely applied to the key-hole, heard 2 door open within the chamber; and, rightly conceiving it to bea sign that the Prince had emerged from the dressing-room adjoining, he now listened with a breathless attention. Nor dic he long play the eaves-dropper in vain: for the Prince and bis fair companion began to converse. “ My dearest Georgiana,” said his Royal High- ness, “how superbly beautiful you appear to-night, Never were you more traly handsome in my eyes !” “ Flatterer !” exclaimed the lady, with a laugh which resounded softly and deliciously merry as musical pearls: “into what temptation have you not led me? But seriously speaking, my dear Prince—do you really feel assured that there is no danger to be apprehended from the prying eyes of that conceited, forward, impudent man who thrust his attentions so officiously upon us?” “Not tho slightest, my beautiful Georgiana,” answered his Royal Highness: and the murmurs of soft and billing kisses were wafted to the ears of Mr. Page, who had winced somewhat under the startling epithets which the lady, little suspecting he was so near, had lavished upon him. “You are certain that he did not recognise me?” said Georgiana, after a short pause. “Quite cunfident,” responded the Prince. “I watched him oarrowly while he was first surveying TRE MYSTERIES, you—which he did, by the bye, like an insolent rascal as he is: and J am sure that he no more suspects you to be the Duchess of Devonshire than I believe him to be the Emperor of China. Na, my lovely Georgiana—make your mind perfectly easy upon that head. Had he known you—had he recognised you when we first entered this house, I should have instartly addressed you by your name and title—and then we should have been compelled to occupy separate chambers to-night. Oh! what a punishment that would have been to me, charming and fascinating creature that you are { But, gracious heaven! what noise is that?” sud- denly exclaimed his Royal Highness in a tone of alarm. . And at the same instant ascream burst from the lips of the Duchess of Devonshire. Page was rivetted to the spot: his ear was nailed to the key-hole. He could not have run away, even if he had wished. The sound which had terri- fied the Prince and Duchess, whatever it might have been, was assuredly within the room, and not caused either by himself at the door ar any one else outside. In fact no noise of any kind reaco*a Page's ear; and he was therefore completely ig- norant of the cause of the alarm inside the apsrt- ment. And his curiosity and suspense were equal to his ignorance on this poiot. But, hark! rapid and apparently angry whisper- ing is going on within the chamber. Page holds his breath—a pin might be .heard to drop in the passage, so fearful is he that even the rustling of his clothes should prevent him from catching an idea of what is progressing on the other side of that door. Vain, however, are his attempts—use- less all his strainings to distinguish the words that are spoken. He can hear the voice of the Prince —then that of the Duchess of Devonshire. The former speaks in anger—the latter in terror. And yet they are not addressing each other—nor quar- relling together. No—there is evidently a third person in that room ! The incidents which brought Mr. Page to this con- viction all passed in the space of a minute—or ra- ther the whispering was characterised by that varicty of intonation which caused the certainty to spring up in his mind that there was a third voice mingling therein. But this third individual, whoever it were —and whether male or female Page knew not— spoke in so low a key that it seemed merely the mur- muring of the wind: then the Prince spoke again— then the Duchess of Devonshire — and then this third person interrupted them suddenly. Hark! the voice is louder now: it isa man's! Yes—there is no longer any doubt on that head: but the voice is not familiar to the eaves-dropper. He does not re- cognise it. That it is not the gruff coarse voice of the old gardener, he however feels assured. Who, then, can the third person in that room be?f—and what is the meaning of this strange, romantic, and darkly mysterious incident ? Still does Mr. Page listen. He is bewildered—as- tounded. The thought of quitting his place at thal door does not once enter his head: the probability that some one may suddenly issue forth never strikes him. He is absorbed—totally absorbed—in all that 1S passing within,—or rather, in as much of it as he can comprehend. And this, as far as the rapidly-whispesed 4is- course goes, is nothing at all. Not a single sentence COMIC OOO SS co