The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 17: what you’re looking at

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

EE See 4 gainer than I: for how will the matter stand if you act as you ought todo? Youare not the son of the late Earl of Lascelles: not one drop of his blood flows in your veins; and therefore no more discredit will attach to you for having intrigued with the Countess of Lascelles, than ever does attach itself to a man who indulges in an affair of gallantry. You will not be spurned by the world —you may still lift your head high. But how different will it be with me/—for though relieved from the darkest stain of the stigma, yet enough of its hue will rest upon me to stamp me asa fallen woman. Now then, sir, what is your deci- sion P” There was so much determination in the words, looks, and manner of the Countess of Lascelles, that Adolphus was smitten with a renewed con- eternation ; and his dismayed looks were riveted upon the Countess. At length, as a sudden idea strack him, he sprang up from his seat, exclaim- ing, “ Let us defy the world, Ethel !—let us set ite Opinion at naught! Let us dwell together—let us give back to each other all that love which we for- merly cherished———” “ Never !” she ejaculated: and her eyes flashed sudden fire. ‘Never, Adolphus—never! The past has been fraught with guilt enough for us both—or at last for me : the future shall be stain- lees———it is impossible I could sin again !” “ But marriage, Ethel” “ Marriage” she shricked forth. ‘“ What! while the world believes that you were indeed the son of my late husband? Oh,” she added, with the blighting, withering laugh of utter scorn, “ to what wretched expedients is your fevered imagi- nation reducing you P” “ Ethel, you may say and do what you like,” exclaimed the young Earl—“ but you cannot force me——”’ “Cannot force you?” she interrupted him. “And what if I myself proclaim the truth P What if I declare ” “ Who will believe you, Ethel?” interrupted Adolphus. “ What would my answer be? That it was a tale devised by an unhappy woman, goaded almost to frenzy by her position—a tale devised for the purpose of palliating her fault before the world———” “ And you would do all this, Adolphus?” said the Countess, gazing upon him with an expression so strange, so wild, so sinister, that when he thought of it afterwards, he could not possibly fathom what its precise meaning might have een. He did not immediately give any answer. Though in one sense he felt his position to bea tolerably strong one so far as the revelation of the secret of his birth might be concerned, yet on the other hand, he was far from being at his ease in respect to a woman who in the present as well as in recent circumstances, had displayed a mental energy, a resoluteness, a determination of which she had seemed incapable in those times when she was the soft, the tender, the yielding, fond partner of his guilty love. He thereforo saw that everything must be done to conciliate or appease the Countess, if possible, short of the absolute concession of that which she had demanded; and his ideas remained fixed upon the project of defying the world and its opinions—of making her his mistress again—or THE MYSTERIES OF THE COURT. even of marrying her if she thought fit—anything, in a word, eo long as he might place a seal upon her lips with regard to the one tremendous secret that might give him much trouble and annoyance, even if it did not ultimately tear him down alto- gether from the pedestal of rank and fortune. While thgee reflections were passing through the mind of Adolphus, Ethel had turned aside, and was again meditating profoundly. Her counten- ance was of the most ashy pallor~—her features were rigid: a sinister light burnt steadily in those eyes that had once beamed only with love and tenderness: the bosom which had been wont to palpitate with the softest and most voluptuous sensations, was now upheaved and perfeotly still: che was motionless as a statue—but all that was passing within rendered her very different indeed from the sculptured marble’s inanimation. Adolphus regarded her with a furtive and uneasy look; and when she at length turned again to- wards him, he gave a sudden start in evident ap- prehension that this terrible conflict of words and feelings was to be renewed. “We have said enouzh for the present,” ob-* served the Countess, in a voice of such cold mono- tony that it afforded not the slightest indication to whatsoever might be passing in her mind. “ Let us separate for a few hours—to rest, if we can— but at all events let us separate. We shall find an opportunity of speaking to each other again ; it must be soon—we will make up our minds how to act—and perhaps—porbaps,” she added, her ao- cents now becoming tremulous, and her features relaxing from their rigidity—“ perhaps, Adolphus, we must make mutual concessions, so that we may have a duo regard for all that has taken place be- tween us, and for all that we may now best do in the interest of us both.” “Ethel—dear Ethel!” exclaimed the young Earl, scarcely believing his own senses; “ you are becoming yourself again! Heaven be thanked that you now speak thus rationally 1” “ Let us separate, Adolphus,” she said, in a still milder tone than that in which she had just spoken ; “and it may be that when the storm of excite- ment is completely passed, and ous senses are rescued from the consternation and bewilderment in which they have been lately plunged, we may yet show each other that we are not utterly selfish |” In the exuberance of the hopeful feelings thus suddenly conjured up in the soul of Adolphus, he seized the hand of the Countess and pressed it to his lips. She snatched it away—but not with any particular violence; and the next instant hurried from the room. It was about an hour afterwards that the mes- senger came from the station-house to fetch Mr. Slater to receive the confession of Makepeace ; and as neither Adolphus nor Ethel knew that be was thus summoned—for in their respective chambers they heard not the ringing of tho gate- bell—tho lawyer bade the domestic who had risen to answer that summons, forbear from disturbing his master and the Countess as they must have need of rest. On his returp to the mansion, the solicitor sought his couch again: but when he arose at about eight in the morning, it was to re-. ceive the intelligence that the murderer had com- mitted suicide in his cell. Then was it announced ECOMmiclooolkks lin