The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 323: what you’re looking at

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

| sos THE MYSTERIES. Simmonds, in his off-hand, bustling, business-like style. “I must just step in and see whether my broker is there yet: or else,” he observed, with a knowing wink, “non-professionals, you perceive, will not be allowed to enter this atmosphere which ‘is redolent of cash.” And laughing heartily at some wit which he probably saw in the observation, Mr. Samuel Sim- monds walked rapidly away—entering the building by a door at the extremity of the court, and carry- ing the Bank receipt in his hand with an air of as much indifference to its value as if it were a piece of waste paper as utterly worthless, for instance, as the leaf of the Morning Post that contains the leading articles, “Clever fellow, that—very clever fellow!” ob- served the man, ostensibly addressing himself to his wife, but really for the purpose of impressing the idea which he enunciated on the mind of Miss Morton. A feeling of uneasiness shot like a pang through the brain of the young lady when she beheld the lawyer depart in such an unceremonious manner with the document which constituted her title to the few hundred pounds that she bad in the funds: but scarcely had she begua to reason within her- self against the justice of her suspicion, when Mr. Simmonds re-appeared, holding the Bank receipt in his hand with the same air as before—as if it were a matter of perfect indifference whether he or his client kept it until it was wanted. “ My broker isn’t come yet—and it’s just as well that he should not have been here at the moment,” said Mr. Samuel Simmonds, as he accosted the party. “ The fact is, I find there’s a new regulation issued since yesterday—and people selling out stock must be identified ¢o the broker at his office first. So I tell you what must be done :—you, my good fellow,” he continued, addressing himself to the man, “ go with the young lady to my broker’s—you know where he lives in Cateaton Street—and having identified her, make him come along with you at once. Tell him I’m waiting here about his lordship’s twenty thousand pound affair as well as the young lady’s business. Miss,” he added, turning to Camilla,— “will you have the goodness to step as far as Cat- eaton Street with our good friend here ?—and then the matter can be settled in a moment.” Camilla unhesitatingly complied witn this re- quest; and away she went in company with the man whose sinister countenance she had completely forgotten—so grateful did she feel towards him for all the trouble himself and his wife were taking in her behalf, On emerging from the Bank of England, how- ever, Camilla observed that her companion drew his hat, which had large slouching brims, very far over his countenance, and pulled the great shawl- handkerchief which he wore very high up; and as the weather was not particularly cold, the proceed- ing actually assumed in her eyes the appearance of a wish on the man’s part to conceal his features, Again cid suspicion shoot like a pang through the brain of the orphan; and the feelipg was sympa- thetically felt like an ice-bolt in her heart. She cast another and more scrutinizing look upon his countenance: but all she could see of it were the eyes that gleamed with a sinister glare, and the nose peering over the shawl-handkerchief. Thus was he muffled up—and yet it was little more than noon—in the broad daylight — and with a crisp and healthy but by no means chilling atmosphere. What could it mean? Had she fallen into vile hands? —should she rush back to the Bank of England where she had left the woman and the lawyer, and demand her receipt, or at least as- sure herself that it was all safe? Her blood literally curdled in her veins and she appeared to be walk- ing on under the influence of a vertigo as she asked herself these questions. Still she obeyed not the suggestive impulse which her suspicions gave ; and although every instant beheld those sus- picions growing more poignant and intolerable, she had not the moral courage nor the resolution to turn abruptly and retrace her way to the Bank ot England, because by so doing she should at once be letting the man see that she mistrusted him, his wife, and his attorney altogether. And then, if her suspicions did happen to be wrong, how sorry— how grieved—how distressed should she be to think that she had thus injuriously treated per- sons at whose hands she had received so mueh kindness ! While these condicting thoughts, ideas, and in- clinations swayed her mind, she still kept walking on by the side of the man; and at length, unable anv longer to endure a state of suspense and un- certainty which became excruciating, she said, “ I beg your pardon for putting such a question—but are you confident that Mr. Simmonds is com- pletely trustworthy ?” “ Trustyworthy !” ejaculated the man, speaking from behind the great shawl-handkerchief: “to be sure he is, Miss—or you don’t suppose that I would have recommended him to you? Bless your heart alive, he’s honesty itself!” They were now in Cateaton Street, which is a ver narrow thoroughfare; and at this moment a waggon so completely blocked up the way that there was only room for one person to pass at a time. The man allowed Camilla to proceed first; and the young lady went quickly on, in the hope of speedily reach- ing the stockbroker’s oflice. The waggon was cleared—and, turning round, she looked for her companion. But he was not to be seen! Her suspicions now became maddening, and she hurriedly retraced her way along the street. Still she could see nothing of him. With wild and af- frighted looks, the orphan increased her pace, and in a few minutes arrived once more at the Bank of England. Entering the court opening from Lothbury, a glance convinced her that the woman and the attorney had disappeared likewise. A sickening sensation came over the poor girl—her brain reeled—her eyes grew dim—her limbs gave way beneath her. But by a sudden and violent effort, she recalled her scat- tered ideas; and remembering that the Jawyer’s offices were represented to be situate in Tokenhouse Yard, she hastened thither with a speed which was now animated by despair. On every door and on the wall inside every passage opening from that blind alley, did she search for the name of Simmonds: but she found it not. At length, when the last house in the place was vainly inspected, the orphan staggered against a door-post and pressed her hand to her fore- head in order to steady her brain—for she felt as if she were going mad! But once more did she arouse herself from the influence of despair in order to woo back hope to her sa TU ps mapas recapamespmmnepmrumoumssemmesanmpapuy ncpey aptemusnsans Heresies ea en acne a ee eee (C(O) nn) clOOOlKKS. (C(O)