The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 227: what you’re looking at

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212 THE MYSTERIES OF THE COURT. it to his pocket. The blood gushed forth in a tor- rent, pouring over the babe, and thus covering it with the sanguine tide from that very breast whence it had been wont to receive its nourishment. The Cannibal, unmoved by the ghastly spectacle which he had himself created —unless indeed it were & prim satisfaction that he experienced in having done the fearful work and thus secured his safety and his vengeance at the same time—now procured water and a towel, and washed as well as he could the stains of murder from his person. This being done, he possessed himself of his coat from the recess, and was about to take his departure, when he bethought himself of the bottle which contained the chloroform. He had placed it on the table the instant he had poured some of its contents on the handkerchief: the table had been upset—and where was the bottle? He searched, and found that it had fallen upon the garments of the woman: the stopper had not come out; and with infinite de- lizht the Cannibal re-possessed himself of an arti- cle which had already proved (according to his own notions) so exceedingly useful, and which micht therefore be of the same utility on a future occa- sion. The ruffian now at length quitted the barge, and was speedily at a distance from the scene of his fearful crime. CHAPTER XLV. THE LADY OF MANY LOVERS, Ir was about half-past ten o’clock on the same night of the frightful tragedy, that Lord Harold Staunton knocked at the door of Evergreen Villa in the Seven Sisters Road. The reader cannot have forgotten that this beautiful little suburban residence was the abode of Miss Emily Archer— alias Mademoiselle Emilie d’Alembert—the fasci- nating danseuse, who had succeeded in ensnaring the foolish and frivolous Lord Saxondale in her meshes. Prettily furnished as the villa was pre- viously to her acquaintance with him, it now pre- sented a a spectacle of almost oriental luxury: that is to say, in miniature. Everything that the taste of a most extravagant woman could possibly fancy, or that the infatuation of a reckless spendthrift could supply, in the shape of exquisite furniture, mirrors, pictures, ornaments, nick-nacks, and costly trifles of every variety, was now to be seen within the walls of that villa. The connexion of Lord Saxondale with Miss Archer had been exceedingly brief as to time, but had already proved wonder- fully expensive as to money, She had introduced him to a person of whom we shall have to speak more anon, and who was supplying him with funds at a most exorbitant rate of interest: and by far the greater portion of the moneys thus obtained, went to gratify the syren’s whims and caprices. newspapers. She moreover knew that her connexion with Lord Saxondale could not last for ever; and she regarded her position at the Opera as the means of obtaining a new admirer when circumstances should sooner or later sever her from the present one. She liked, too, to have an opportunity of boasting her good fortune in the presence of the other ballet-dancers; for she fancied that her posi- tion was a very brilliant one, and that instead of any shame being attached thereto, it was exceedingly enviable and admirable. But returning from our digression, we must hasten to describe wherefore Lord Harold Staunton was on the particular night of which we now speak, paying a visit to Evergreen Villa. On knocking at the door _he inquired of the servant who answered the sum- mons if Lord Saxondale were within?—but before any answer could be given, that young nobleman himself rushed out of the exquisitely furnished par- lour on the ground-floor, exclaiming, “ I thought I could not be mistaken: I knew it was your voice! Come in, my dear fellow—I am delighted to see you !” Lord Harold accordingly entered the parlour, where a supper consisting of all imaginable delica- cies and dainties was spread upon the table, and where Emily herself was lounging negligently on a sofa. She was dressed—or rather we should say undressed—in a French wrapper trimmed with the most costly lace; and her beautiful dark hair was flowing in luxuriant masses over a neck more ex- posed than was consistent with perfect moclesty. “Ah, Lord Harold!” she said, extending her hand to the young nobleman, with whom she was well acquainted, and indeed had been very intimately acquainted on some former occasion: “I am glad to see you at.the villa. But, you naughty man, you! what have you been domg? fighting a duel! Oh fie! I am shocked at you.” “Tt is one of those unfortunate occurrences, Miss Archer,” responded Staunton, with a forced gaiety, “which will happen in life, Saxondale who will some day or another have to do the same thing. Who knows, indeed, but that he Miss Archer remained upon the s<age for several | glance of mockery, which she acknowledged by a reasons, In the first place she liked the excitement connected with the ballet—she liked the applause may be compelled to fight a duel on your ae- count P” “Oh, that would be amusing !”” exclaimed Emily, clapping her hands gleefully, as if some new source of gratification had been suddenly developed to her mind; and she felt as Xerxes might have been sup- posed to feel had anybody suggested the “ new plea- sure” for the discovery of which that royal volup- tuary offered a reward. “T am very much obliged to you, my dear Emily,” said Lord Saxondale, “ for wishing to place my life in jeopardy: but I am not enough tired of you yet to wish to be prematurely cut off from your sweet society,” “Beautifully expressed!” exclaimed the danseuse, * Don’t you think your friend Edmund is exceed- ingly witty and clever, Lord Harold ?” “Oh! I always told him so,” was the response: and Staunton, as he gave it, darted at Emily a quick >? transient archness of the curling lip. It was as bestowed upon the dancers—she liked the flattery | much as to say on Lord Harold’s part, “‘ You know and the flirting that took place behind the scenes— | he isa fool;” and on Miss Emily’s, “ Of course I and she*liked to see the name of Mademoisclle Emilie d’Alembert in the dramatic criticisms in the | do.” “Thank you both for the compliment,” cried Here is our friend | ECOMMICLOOMKKS (C@)