The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 38: what you’re looking at

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

22 REYNOLDS’ WORKS turn her brain. Lavinia, thou wast already avenged some- what, in the frightful sensations which this guilty creature experienced. And now she knew by the turning in the road that she was drawing close toward the pond, and her limbs appeared to fail her. Her knees knocked together, her teeth chattered; wildly did she seek with straining eyes to penetrate the darkness, and assure herself that there was no unearthly shape standing on that scene of murder. Vividly back to her mind came the incidents of her first night’s walk to Oaklands, when twice she fancied she beheld a dark shape, — once dis- appearing from the midst of the road, and the second time on the opposite side of the hedge. Not for an instant could she now persuade herself that those were mere fancies, as she had hitherto succeeded in doing; they were in her brain with all the awful horror of realities. With a mighty effort she strove to gather up the remnants of her shattered, scattered courage, and she somewhat succeeded as she drew close to the pond. The feeblest possible glimmer rested upon its surface; shudderingly she looked that way to see if any shape of terror intervened to break this glimmering, but there was none. Her courage rose somewhat higher; the pond was passed, she began to breathe more freely, when she became aware that she was not alone, that there was some one by her side. A scream rang wildly forth from her lips, and she dropped as if a bullet had at the instant pene- trated her heart. | As Lettice Rodney slowly came back to consciousness, she thought that she was awakening from a hideous, horrible dream, but a sense of awful numbing consternation came slowly and chillingly over her as she gradually became aware of her position. She was by the side of the pond, half- supported in the arms of some one, and water had been sprinkled upon her countenance. “You have nothing to fear,” said the individual, whose voice sounded low and deep to the ears of the appalled Lettice. ‘Who are you? For God’s sake tell me who are you! ”’ she cried, starting up in a species of frenzy. “‘T am a human being, as you are,’ was the response, “although a guilty conscience may smite you with the dreadful thought that I come from another world.” CONMGC HOOKS COM