The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 210: what you’re looking at

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

192 THE COURT OF LONDON may hear or at any strange occurrence that may take place during the coming night, but be in readiness to fulfill any instructions that you may receive. I am told that you are an Englishman, and you will see by this that it is a fellow countrywoman who thus addresses you.” The astonishment of Loftus at thus discovering that his bold and venturous neighbour was a female may be more readily conceived than described. Yes, and by her writing she was evidently a lady of good education. That the old charwoman was an accomplice in her project of escape was evident enough; but how this lady could hope to effect this escape by simply passing from one room into another, Jocelyn was at a loss to imagine. However, that some explanation would take place during the next night ap- peared tolerably evident, the lady having no doubt been enabled to calculate that it only required a, little more labour to pierce entirely through the massive partition wall. Slow and tardy as the time ever passes to persons in captivity, yet this was the slowest and most tardily lingering day that Jocelyn had yet known in the prefecture of police. He thought the evening would never come; but when at last the sombre shades of twilight obscured his chamber, he even then calculated with considerable impatience that it yet wanted several hours of midnight. However, as nearly everything must have an end sooner or later, so did this wearisome day terminate at last. Nine o’clock struck, the serious-looking domestic, having brought in the supper-tray, retired with his wonted coldly courteous ‘‘ Good night,’’ and now Loftus felt that he was free from any further in- terruption on the part of his crabbed janitor. Candles had been lighted some time; he endeavoured to read, but could not settle his mind to any one subject of all the departments of literature contained in the books at his disposal. He therefore rose from his chair and paced the room in an agitated manner; then he sat down again and perused for the hundredth time that day the mysterious note which he had received in the morning. Yes, it was indeed a beautiful handwriting, fluent, clear, and delicate as that of an educated Englishwoman. But, ah! if it had only been the writing of his Louisa, what trans- ports of happiness would he now have enjoyed! However, GoOmicsooks (E(0) m