The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 377: what you’re looking at

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THE MYSTERIES OF THE COURT. he knew where she lived. His reply was that he did not even know whether she was in London. 80 I remained fretting, and fidgetting, and chafing at Dover, not knowing what on earth to do. At last, as I tell you, the Dover paper of some weeks back, containing the account of that business, fell into my hands; then I saw at once that Elizabeth was the female highwayman who stopped Marlow and Mal- ton, and that she lived somewhere near Edmonton. So I came up to London to-day—aend have only just arrived. My first visit is paid to you, that we may | ) consult together. “Do you happen to have the Dover paper about you P” asked Petersfield: “for I know no more of Mariow’s adventure than what he told me af the reading at the column indicated by the Baronet: but as he continued the perusal, his features began to express @ growing amazement; and suddenly ra his cleached hand upon the table, he ejaculated, “ Then, by heaven, it was she !” ta Vt HO you moan” eaked the Baronet has- y: “TI mean that Elisabeth has been hero—that she has paid a visit to this house,” responded Lord Pe- terafield in consternation. «| never could taney | of what the of that creature's intru sion could be. I set her down as mad. Marlow never happened to describe her person to me——” lo did you not recollect her f* inquired Gir ohn. ‘I never saw her since her earliest childhood,” answered the nobleman. “ When I took Frank to school at Southampton, I carefully avoided Khsabeth. She was then sixteen: and therefore if she had seen me, she would have remembered me again—which I was naturally anxious to avoid. Ah! this is indeed most t . What could she have come hither for? I can’t mike it out. It was asstredly she. The description in this news- paper is life-like—handsome but largely chiselied features—full lips, somewhat coarse and richly red -——teeth white as ivory—olive complexion—e some- what bold and hardy voice strong, but not harsh, and with flute-like tonee——-Yes, to be sure, it is the safne! it is beyond all donbt!” “But upon what pretence did she come?” de- manded the Baronet. “Consider—reflect! You must tax your memory: it is important we should know. Jt may enable us to form an idea of the extent of the clue which she ” “ Ah! a suspicion strikes me,” ejaculated Peters- field. “On that very. same day, I recollect full well now, her brother Frank was here; and he hap- pened to see that of Lady Everton which was published in the Court Beauties. Stop a mo- ment !” With these words Lord Petersfield hurried from the room: but in less than s minute he returned, bolding a book open in his hand ;—and ad up to the Baronet, he showed him where: a leaf | had been been abstracted, exclaiming, “Yee—it is ne! i “Then rest assured, my lord,” replied Sir John Marston, “that they are thoroughly upon the right | track ; and having discovered who their muther is, o~ - «€6=FErT s$s§V\‘' '"'J they will discover all the sect. Thevo will be terrifle exposure. And new, what is to be done P” well go and drown myself afterwards.” “ Besides, the ! the disgrace! the damn- ing infamy |” ejaculated Lurd Petersfield. “ Would to God I had never dons it {* “Ah! you were something like myself in those times, my lord,” seid Mazston bitterly; “too toed the table {”* “And Lady Petersfield!” eontinued the nobdle- man, net heeding the Barenet's acerbic interjection : “what s blow for her! she who suspects it not! she who has not an idea of all this! And with her diabolieal teraper too—-—— Why it will be enough to xsake me blow my brains out !” “ A pretty couple we shall be, then !” said Marston, with that bitter ing laugh in which despair sometimes breaks forth: “I te drown myself{—you. to blow your brains out! But what is to be done? It is no use your walking up and down the room like this. Pray resume some of your diplomatic cunning as soon as ever you like. The seuner, toa, the better. Fortunately we know where Elizabeth is—at a cottage near Edmonton. The report in the Dover newspaper lete us know that much Now then, decide. -Shall we lock her up in a madhouse?. or shall we do that other thing—you know what I mean f” “Do not allude to it, Sir John Marston!” replied Lord Petersfield impatiently. “Iam not so bad as thet.” “ But I am bad enough for anything,” exclaimed Marston, “under such circumstances. 1 tell you what, Poterefield—an ides has struck me! Let you and I go and lay in wait in the neighbourhood of her residence; and when she comes out, we will shoot her dead, If you are afraid to fire the pistol, Fam not. Thea we will swear she tried to rob us; and the respectability of your name—your high po- sition — your rank—all will give a colouring to the statement. We may afterwards devise some meats to dispose of the boy Frank.” “Sir John Marston, are you mad?’ ejaculated. the nobleman, becoming white as a sheet. The Baronet was about to reply, when the door opened, and a footman entered, bearing a card, and _ intimating that the gentleman whose name it de- scribed eought an immediate interview. “ Mr. Gunthorpe ?”" said Lord Peterfield, instan- @ »# Eg EE AL | le a - s ome, w- a COUMIUC NOOK CO