The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 216: what you’re looking at

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

THE MYSTERIES OF TIE COURT. “But it is made out in a false name, sir,” re- marked the Prefect. You do not deny this alle- gation ?” “I do not deny it,” rejuined the young gentle- man: “but I will at once, and, I am sure, in the most satisfactory manner explain to your Excel- lency the reasons——” “JT ask no explanations, sir,” interrupted the Prefect, more curtly and severely than before. * With your motives § have nothing to do: the fact, which you deny not, is sufficient for me. [fb is wy painful duty to detain you in custody for the present. You will have the goodness to accum- pany the officer——” * But, your Excellency, this outrage——” “Siience, sir!” ejaculated the Prefect, now epeaking with unmitigated sternneas. “No, I will not remain silent !” exclaimed Loftus, his couatepance glowing with iudignation. *As a British subject, I shall demand the protection af my country’s Ambassador——” But the Prefeo: cut short the youug gentileman’s words by abruptly quitting the apartment: and the police-agent, tapping him upoa the shoulder, said, “ Have the goodness to follow me, sir.” Loftus, perceiving that it was useless to remon- strate with a subordinate who was obeying the commands of a superiors, accumpanied him from the room, and was conducted along a dark passage to a small ill-furnished chamber, the windows of which were defeuded with massive iron bars. The door was then closed upon him: and as the grating sound of the key turning in the luck, and of the huge bults shooting into their sockets, met his ears, he thought of his absent and well-beloved . Louisa—and his heart sank within him! CHAPTER LVI. THE REUNION OF THE PARTY OF SIX. A wortniaHtT had elapsed since the marriage of Horace Sackville and Venetia Trelawney; and in the evening of the 10th of October—(for, after Byron’s example, we like to be particular in dates) —all was bustle aod activity at the house of Colonel Malpas in Great Marlborough Street. The dining-room was brilliantly lighted: the table was laid for six persons ;—the side-board exhibited a splendid dessert in crystal dishes—and the culinary process below-stairs gave promise of @ luxarious banquet. At about a guarter to six o’clock Colonel Mal- pas, dressed in full evening costume, descended from his chamber and cast an approving eye over the arrangements in the dining-room, Everything was to his perfect satisfaction: and his butler re- ceived due acknowledgments for the taste dis- played in the preliminary details of the entertain- ment. “It does you infinite credit, Plumpstead,” said the Colonel: “very great credit indeed. By the bye, how much am I indebted to you, my good fellow ” “Only two years and a half's wages, at forty guineas a-year, sir,” was the response: but though Mr. Plumpstead courteously introduced the word only, it must by no means be fancied that he was ee ee ee eG OO 208 “Ah: that’s a hundred guineas, Plumpstead,” said the Colonel. “ Well—I shall settle with you to-morrow—you may rely upon it.” “I hope you will not forget it, sir,” replied the butler, with a low bow: then, as his master left the ruom, he muttered to himself, “ The cheating scoundrel! I don't believe I shall ever see the colour of my money. I can take my oath some- thing queer’s going to bappen—for I am certain that fellow was a sheriff 3-officer who called this morning to ask if the Colun:! was in town. And by the bye, I furgot to tel: master of it; but no inatter. To-morrow will be tine enough.” Thus mused Mr. Plumpstead, the butler,—while the Culonel ascended the well-lighted staircase to the drawing-room. There he surveyed himself from head to foot in one of the handsome mirrors: and as he caressed his moustache, he complacently ob- served, “ Well, I certainly am good-looking enough’ to win the favours of even such a transcendent beauty as Venetia Trelawney.” But still the Colonel was not altogether easy in his mind. To speak more plainly still, he was restless, nervous, and agitated. It was true that | - he had succeeded in persuading his wife to pay a visit for the occasion to her plebeian relatives in tue City—-for be it remembered that he had mar- ried the daughter of a retired butcher :-—and he had also managed to get the money to >rovide the sumptuous banquet about to take place. But the satisfaction arising from these achievements was more than counterbalanced by the desperate hazards and risks he was about to run, and into which his desperate circumstances had impelled him. In fact, he was knave enough to concoct any villany; but he was somewhat deficient in the courage necessary to carry it out. Therefore, the nearer the hour approached for executing the scheme on which he was bent, the more nervous did he become. In addition to this, Emmerson had compelled him to sign a note of hand, payable on demand, for the amount of the forged bills. This note was given on the morning after the scene with Lady Curzon at Mrs. Gale's: thas a fortnight had elapsed—and the note was still unpaid. Two or three days previous to the evening of which we are now writing, Malpas received an urgent and indeed threatening letter from Mr. Emmerson: but he had written to put the bill-broker off with a solemn assurance to liquidate the whole sum in the course of the week. His only hope of paying the amount existed in the result of the scheme which he had now in hand, and in furtherance of which the banquet was to be given ;—and If this echeme should fall, utter ruin would stare him in the face, with the concomitant alternatives of flirht to the continent or a debtor's gaol. Such was the position wherein Colonel Malpas was placed: and the reader requires not to be as- sured that it was far from an enviable one. In- deed, that self-sufficient survey of his person in the mirror and that complacent caressing of the moustache, were only the sickly attempt of an agi- tated mind to persuade itself that it was not so well pleased as the existence of these long arrears. | found ou” Thus do men, in difficult and danger- restless as it really was, in the same way that a 4 guilty person who trembles at every knock at the door, endeavours to tranquillise his fears by con- stantly eaying, “ After all, it is impossible I can be i COMIEDOOKS.COR