The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 294: what you’re looking at

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

THE MYSTERIES OF THE COURT. now enfeebled and exhausted: she felt the gnaw- ings of famine within her; and she had not a penny to purchase a morsel of bread. Her situation was in itself an almost adequate punishment for the foul vindictive treachery of which ehe had been culpable. And remorse on one subject brought its com- panion-compunctions upon other pointe. Her conscience told her that she had been a murderess in inclination, although heaven had intervened to frustrate her plans. She had sought the life of her mistress with the bright-pointed steel and like- wise by means of the reptile of deadliest venom, -—that kind mistress who had ever been so affec- tionate towards her! Remorse on this account was now lacerating her heart and rending her brain. Her imagination was full of horrors: vainly did she endeavour to dispel them. It seomed as if her mental gaze perforce remained fixed upon the most hideous objecte,—ghastly spectres that hemmed her in around—circled about her—stood in her way—and laid their death-cold hands upon her. And the evil spirits of her own creed likewise presented their phantom- forms to her vision,—forms of the dreadfulest aspect! She was burnimg in the fires of her own tortured conscience: she was seething in a lake of molten lava conjured up by her own fevered imagination. Though living, and upon earth, it appeared as if she wore suffering the excruciations of hell iteelf. And thus wandered on the wretched Sagoonah through the streets of London—experiencing en awful solitude in the midst of that crowded metro- polis—feeling that she was a wretch to whom death would be weloome. But that death— how could she meet it? by what means was she to en- counter it P In the agony of her remorse she resolved to return to the Villa. Yes—to this her mind was suddenly made up. She thought that it would be an atonement if she were to fling herself at the feet of her mistress, and confess everything— although whatsoever she had to confess she knew had been principally revealed during her ravings on the bed of sickness. But all her thoughts were morbid: her mind had utterly lost its wholesome strength; and it was now pre-oocupied with the idea that there would be atonement in the project she had formed. Oh! if she could only obtain the forgiveness of her mistress—it would be some balm to her heart ; and she might at least dio less miserably than she otherwise would. And thus she proceeded towards the villa. But it was no longer with the hurried step of excite- ment that Sagoonah bent her way: worn down by fatigue and by mental suffering, she dragged her- self along painfully. The lithe bayadere form was not now drawn up to its full height; the’ well- shaped feet no longer pressed the ground with elastic tread. It was as a miserable wretch—with the cares of a universe upon her shoulders, prese- ing like an intolerable weight—that the anguished Sagoonah was now making her painful way. Meanwhile the faithful Mark, having taken a cab on leaving the police-office, had reached the cherous game, and that she meditated some addi- tional perfidy. It will be remembered that imme- diately after the ayah had received her wound from the Burker’s weapon, Lord Clandon and In- dora, in @ consultation together, had come to the conclusion that the one tremendous secret relating to himself had been fathomed by Sagoonah ; and hence those porings over the Times of which Christina Ashton had given them information. Now, therefore, the Queen dreaded lest Sagoonah in her jealous vindictiveness should betray Lord Clandon’s secret; and she had written a note to put him on his guard—that note which, as we have seen, Mark was unable to deliver ere the crowning mischief was accomplished. Therefore it was with intense anxiety that the Queen awaited Mark’s return; and the instant she beheld him approaching through the grounds, she hurried forth to meet him. Though the faithful major- domo had intended to break the dreadful intelli- gence as delicately and gently as possible, yet he could not control the expression of his counte- nance; and the unspeakable sadness that it wore at once convinced Indora that the very worst had happened. “ Tell me instantaneously what has occurred !” she said: “delay not !—think not that you do me a service by studying my feelings! Your features betray the tale! I understand it all!” “ Alas, my lady,” said the faithful dependant, “that I should be compelled to become the bearer of intelligenoe so frightful-———” “Come in, Mark,” said the Queen; “ and give me all the details.” She had not shrieked—she had not swooned : she gave no vent to passionate lamentations : but there was something unnatural in her calmness. The strength of her mind was sustained by a hope which was the one barrier that separated her from utter despair. That hope was the eventual demon- stration of Lord Clandon’s innocence. She conducted Mark into a room, where they were alone together; and he told her everything that had occurred. She listened without inter- rupting him ; and when he had finished his nar- rative of the proceedings, she rose from her seat, saying, “I will now go and comfort him in his prison.” ‘ Pardon me, my lady,” said Mark ; “but this evening it cannot be. The regulations of the prison will prevent it. Lord Clandon desired mo to implore your ladyship to postpone this visit until to-morrow—and then to repair thither under circumstances of the strictest privacy, so that your ladyship’s name may not become inconveniently involved.” “I understand,” said the Queon : “it shall be for to-morrow. And now Mark —my faithful Mark—no time is to be lost in carrying out the plans which circumstances dictate. You must set off immediately for Oaklands, the country seat of the Duke of Marchmont: you must privately ob- tain an interview with an old man named Parvis —and you mast give him a letter which I am about to write.” Mark promised to do the bidding of his royal villa. Queen Indora was anxiously awaiting his | mistress in all things; and farnished with a letter, return: for she had a presentiment—aye, even a | he lost no time in taking his departure. When certainty of evil. Indeed it was but too evident | he was gone the Queen sought Christina. that Sagoonah had been playing a darkly ‘rea: | Our youthful heroine was overwhelmed with amin | COMIC OOOlKKS. EO