The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 117: what you’re looking at

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

! | | a a mmm e nn ea rnc a <p GS Di — a= eo ial SS 8 — »> a= ae SE THE MYSTERIES. letter, your friend wishes to keep it by him for futare reference. He can restore it to its blank state by dipping it in water—a simple process which causes all the writing to disappear once more. The chemical preparation will however bring forth that writing again, when required; and this may be done for three or four times without destroying the document.” “Wonderful !—wonderful !” ejaculated the com- mercial traveller. “And you saf that you are in possession of these receipts as well as those for the terrible poison and its counteractive ?” “Yes: you may have them whenever you will,” answered Julia. “We will make use of the chemical preparation to restore the writing this very day, my dear,” said Page. “ And now tell me—was your father inti- mately leagued with that Magsman?” “ Much more than I liked,” responded the young woman. “ Don’t you remember that when we were examining the cellar together the night before last, I told you that I hated the man Briggs and all his crew? I don't pretend to be very particular in some matters: but I detest the miscreants that deal in murder by poison or violent means, as I am sure those fellows have long done.” “ Well—well,” interrupted Page; “ you are now removed from their society, at all events. Let us next turn our attention to the papers contained in this pocket-book. Of course the Hannah Light- foot whose hair is enclosed in one of these papers, and whose Christian name or initials are appended to the letters, was your father’s sister—consequently your aunt?” “She was,” answered Julia. “But I never saw a a broken-heart when I was a mere Cc 9 “Now, do you think she was really married to the present King—or not ?” inquired Page. “It is impossible to say. I used to ask my father sometimes—but he always evaded the ques- tion. For my part, I should imagine that she was: for I believe that her principles were most excellent and her virtue beyond all question. Besides,” added Julia, “the contents of that pocket-book appear to prove that she was a wife, and not a mistress.” “Such is my opinion,” observed Page. “But how was it that your father, who was evidently such a griping and avaricious man, did not think of making money by these papers ?” demanded the commercial traveller. “I know that he oftea thought of doing so,” was the reply : “ but I have heard him say, when he was in conversation with the Magsman upon the sub- ject, that the letters proved nothing. They were restored to my aunt, it appears, when all connexion was broken off between her and the present King— then Prince of Wales. But one-half of a cer- tain document in my aunt’s possession had unfor- fortunately been lost by her—and that was the only paper which really might have been made good use oN had fallen in its entire state into my father’s “Then your father never had that document in an entire state ?” said Page. “ Never,” was the reply. “ But I will tell you how that was—for I have often heard the old man speaking about it. Jt appears that when my aunt's connexion with George III —then Prince of ee Wales—ceased, she retired into the strictest seclu- sion, living upon a small pension allowed her through the agency of a certain Lady Stamford. My father used to visit her occasionally, and urged her to assist in extorting money from her former lover, or husband—whichever he might have been —and who had now beoome King, But my aunt always refused with indignation to lend herself to such a proceeding. This caused serious quarrels between them—and at last my aunt removed to some place where he could not find her out. A long, long time elapsed ; and it was just before my aunt’s death occurred about sixteen years ago, that she again changed her residence, having been traced out by my father. She now took a lodging at Aylesbury, in the house of a young and new- married couple named Warren.” “What ! the Magsman ?” ejaculated Page. “You shall hear. These Warrens were poor: but my aunt believed them to be honest. Mrs. Warren, who was then about four-and-twenty, was a woman of remarkable beauty and superior educa- tion: but having disgraced herself, she was dis- carded by her family and was giad tomarry a junior clerk in Martin’s bank at Aylesbury.” “Martin’s bank!” exclaimed Page. “Why, all these matters begin to connect themselves together like so many different links of the same chain. But go on.” “ Well—one day, when my aunt Hannah Lightfoot was very ill, she had been examining the contents of a pocket-book with great attention, and had wept over them,—Mrs. Warren being present at the time. It appears that a piece of paper dropped upon the floor, as my aunt was replacing the documents; and she did not notice it. Mrs. Warren picked it up stealthily—secreted it—and afterwards showed it to her husband. It was a portion of a certificate or memorandum, and bore the signature of the present King when he was Prince of Wales. The Warrens kept it with the determination of securing the other half and obtaining money by it from the Govern- ment. But at this crisis, my father again discovered his sister’s abode, and made his appearance at the house. His presence caused her death ; and he took possession of all her little property, the pocket-book included.” “Perhaps he tried the effect of some of his poisons on the unfortunate lady?” observed the commercial traveller, looking at his wife significantly—as if he had made a very shrewd guess. “ Heaven only knows!” exclaimed Julia. I must confess that I have often had my suspicions on that point,” she observed, shaking her head ominously. “Well, goon. I suppose,” continued Page, “that your father and the Warrens put their wits together to see what they could do with the papers.” “No such thing!” returned Julia “The War- rens kept their own secret relative to the half of the document which they had in their ion ; and my father walked off with the pocket-book, leaving those people to conduct his sister’s funeral. Remember, all this occurred sixteen years ago—just about the time that my mother died. Well, time slipped away—and five or six years back my father and I went to live in that court where he died the other day and you found me. -Three years ago he fell in with the Magsman, who about that period took the house next door for his own purposes. My “ But. COMGLOO S COMM