The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 359: what you’re looking at

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345 $AE MYSTERIES, just given such startling and horrifying expression : but the low, weak, feeble cry which the infant's lips sent forth struck upon the father’s ears and touched a chord that vibrated with maddening effect to his very heart's core. “ Rise, my dear wife—rise, my beloved children !” he exclaimed, springing from his seat on the chest, and waving his arms over their heads with the min- gled wildness and sublimity of a prophet who fore- tells grand but dreadful things: “you know not what you say when you ask me to become tranquil Are ye not perishing before my eyesf—is not the iron of starvation entering in unto our very souls? —and can I, as a husband and a father, remain quiet and behold unmoved the progress of this work of death? No—no—ten thousand times 2no/” he shouted franticly. “I should be the vilest of cowards were I to see you die thus, without making an effort to save you! To hell with honesty, when wife and children are perishing with want !—to hell with all maudlin morality and sickly sentimentaliem, when those whom one loves are going down to the tomb through famine and misery! Look at that innocent babe: in a few heurs it will be no more— for your bosom is dry, wife—starvation has withered up your breast! May God’s vengeance fa)l upon me if I eadure this spectacle tamely! No—by the eternal justice! ye ahall have bread—ye shall eat— ye shal! not die of want in the heart of a city teem- ing with abundance. Again I declare that I should .be a pitiful coward —a mean-spirited dog — the veriest poltroon that ever disgraced the noble dig- nity of Man, were I to let you perish thus without making an effort to save you !” And, breaking away from bis wife and children, the unhappy man — maddened to desperstion— sprang to the door. But be had not time to open it ere they arrested his progress — surrounded him again—clung to him—implored him not to leave them—and mingled the most passionate entreaties with the bitterest weeping. “Hark*” he. exclaimed abruptly — waving his hand so imperiously that they fell back as if by a simultaneous impulsee—and a dead silence suddenly reigned in the room, broken only by the low plain- tive cry of the infant. ” And he counted on until he had numbered eleven: for the chureh clock was proclaiming that hour at which the landlady was to be paid or the family was to be thrust forth into the street ! “I will go and speak to Mrs. Thomas,” said Mel- moth’s wife: “I will even fall upon my knees at her feet — I will show her this dying child-——O God! would that we were all dead—or that we had never been born {” And the wretched woman sank upon the broken chair, her whole frame convulsed with the ago- nising sobs that tore her bosom. “Wife, listen to me one moment!” exclaimed Melmoth, in a tone which though soothing and kind towards her, was nevertheless characterised by a firmness that seemed ominous and even ter. rible after all the previous outpourings of his fevered spirit: “the hour of our doom has struck! It was the knell of fate which rang in our ears. Onr only hope is gone—for you see that Miss Fos- ter has not returned. This was what I expected— what I feared! She has fallen into the hands of her enemies: alas! poor girl—she has encountered dishonour in her generous resolve to seek bread for us. Now, my dear wife, I beseech you to tran- quillise yourself—for my sake—for your children’s sake! You perceive that I am calm — very calm——” “O God! ‘tis a calmness which does me more harm to observe than even the excitement which ruled you just now,” said the miserable woman, fixing a look full of terror upon the rigid and im- placable features of her husband: for his counte- nance wore the stamp and impress of an iron de- termination. “My resolve is taken,” he answered, in a cold voice that trembled not: “and no human tongue can dissuade me from adopting it. The war thst I have proclaimed against the few who have usurped the rights and self-appropriated the food of the many—that war commences this night! Withia an hour the first campaign will have taken place. Ere the clock strikes twelve, I swear to you that I shall return—and then, my beloved wife—then, my dearest children, you shall have bread to eat and money to pay the rent! Yes—by the eternal God !” he exclaimed, in a sudden paroxysm of returning excitement,—“ ye shall neither starve nor become houseless wanderers so long as the wives and chil- dren of the accursed brood of hereditary usurpers revel in luxury and abundance !” Having thus spoken, James Melmoth tore open the door—rushed from the room—and was half-way down the stairs before his wife and chil- dren could even recover from the consternation into which this sudden movement had plunged them. But, in a few moments, a rending cry pro- claimed all the anguish which smote the heart of the wretched woman—and then the grief, the tears, and the sobs of the children burst forth anew. Mrs. Melmoth hastened down stairs in pursuit of her husband: but at the very instant that she reached the bottom of the lowest flight the front door was banged violently behind him. ‘¢ Holy God! he is gone,” exclaimed the miserable ereature, pressing her babe despairingly to her bosom, as she leant agsinat the wall for support. * But he says that he shall be back in an hour,” observed the vixenish landlady, stepping forward from the farther end of the passage; “and then he has promised to pay me. Howsomever, as I don't mean to sit up on purpose for that, it will do the first thing to-morrow morning.” “Heaven have mercy upon me and my innocent children!” murmured Mrs. Melmoth, im a tone of concentrated anguish: and, without making any reply to the landlady, she slowly dragged her failing limbs up the stairs, back to the garret where the other boy was vainly endeavouring to console his little brother and sister. CHAPTER XCVIIL THE YOUNG MAIDEN’S ADVENTURES. LET us now return to Rose Foster, who, upon sally- ing forth from the house in which the Melmoths lived, repaired straight to) Jermyn Street, The distance between the neighbourhood of West- minster Abbey and the latter place was acoomplished in about a quarter of an hour—for the young lady - sped rapidly along. It was not however without a: feeling of apprehension that she found herself in the * COMNGCBOOKS COMM