The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 181: what you’re looking at

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

EE AS THE MYSTERIES OF THE COURT. 175 ee dela i I * Amy, I am in that state of mind,” ejaculated Marchmont, “ when any advice is most welcome most useful! ‘Your’s shall be followed—and I thank you for it. Come!—we will watch at this door. Even if we stay for hours will we watch !” Marchmont and Amy Sutton accordingly posted themselves at the door of the room where this con- versation had taken place. They kept the door ajar in such a manner that they could both look forth into the corridor; and thus in a profound silence did about twenty minutes pass away. Then a door was heard to open gently at a little dis- tance: the Duke nudged his companion as if in an éxcited manner; and she murmured, “ Hush!” in the lowest possible tone. « Footsteps were heard stealing along the corridor «then the rustling of a dress; and in about a minute a figure passed with apparent cautiousness along. Of course the reader understands full well that this was none other than Lettice Rodney, who was acting in accordance with the instructions she had received from the Duke. The black veil was over her head in such a manner as to conceal her hair and shade her features: but there was quite sufficient light in the passage for Amy to recognise the dress; and when the figure had passed, she re- treated a few steps into the room. “ Now, Amy,” murmured the Duke, in a deep hollow voice, as he also quitted the door and closed. it,—“ what say you?” “Tam afraid, my lord, that there can be no doubt of it,” she responded. “But is your Grace sure that) you beheld my mistress enter Mr, Stan- hope’s room P” “Can I doubt my own eyes?” asked the Duke: “and does not that stealthiness of proceeding which you have just witnessed—does it not, Tsay, confirm all I have told you P” ‘And now what will your Grace do?” inquired Amy, who was indeed all but convinced that the mistress whom she had hitherto believed the very pattern of virtue, purity, and frankness, was the personification of profligacy, viciousness, and hypo- crisy. *« What will I do?” cried the Duke :—“ what in heaven’s name can I do?” he asked, with the air of one who was bewildered and distracted. “It is true that for some time past her Grace and myself have not been on the very best terms together ; and I dare say that I have been looked upon as a éruel and hard-hearted husband who ill-treated his wife. But if the world only knew the infirmities of her temper However, I need not trouble you with such explanations. You ask me what I will do; and you have counselled me to take no pre- cipitate step A -* And this advice, my lord, I respectfully but earnestly venture to repeat,” said Amy Sutton. Tt. shall be followed—rest assured that it shall be followed!” responded the Duke. “I will create iio disturbance; whatever is to be done, shall be performed in a suitable and becoming manner. A divorce this is the only course !” “And yet, my lord,” said Amy, “there is still the possibility of some mistake: for remember that I have not seen her Grace issue from Mr. Stanhope’s chamber.’’. “True!” ejaculated the Duke, as if now struck by the fact for the first time. “I will do nothing rashly |—I will think over it! Do you return to your own room. I need not enjoin you to keep the dreadful affair secret until secresy becomes no longer possible. You are prudent and discreet. Ah! you advised me kindly; and kindness under such circumstances, must be rewarded. Take this purse and remember, Amy, not a look nor a syllable to your mistress to-morrow to show that she is suspected! And now good night.” “Accept my thanks, my lord,” said the lady’s- maid, as she clutched the purse and her ear caught the chink of gold. “ Good night.” She stole softly back to her own chamber ; and a few minutes afterwards the Duke of Marchmont, in an equally stealthy manner, went down the pri- vate staircase, and rejoined Lettice,—who had found her way to the little room ’to which she was first introduced, and wheve a light had been left burning. “ Everything goes well,” said Marchmont, with a look of triumph, as he poured her out another glass of champagne. “On Monday night you must repeat the performance. I will manage to run down to you between eight and nine o’clock, aud tell you which particular dress you are to put on. And now farewell. I see that the business will be brought to a termination much more speedily than L had even dared hope or anticipate at first; and in a few days you will be enabled fo return to London.” Lettice took her departure; and the Duke of Marchmont stole up to his own chamber, chuckling at the progress that was already made in the yile conspiracy against his innocent wife, > OS CHAPTER XXXIV. THE POND. AccorpDiINnG to the plan which he had in view, the Duke of Marchmont observed on the Monday evening what particular dress Lavinia wore; and he was inwardly delighted by the recollection that there was a duplicate thereof in the possession of Lettice at the farm-house. At about nine o’clock on this evening of which we are now writing, -he rose from his chair in the drawing-room, where he was seated with the Duchess and the Hon. Wilson Stanhope; and complaining of a dreadful headache, said he should take a ramble through the grounds with the hope of dispelling it. But on issuing forth from the mansion, he made the best of his way to the farm-house—gayve Lettice the requisite information with regard to the particular dress she was to put on—and then began to retrace his steps homeward, The evening was very different from that of the Saturday when Lettice took her first trip on her nefarious mission to Oaklands. It was indeed just such an evening as that on which Christian had accompanied the Duke, to carry the box to the farm-house. It was dark and windy; and March. mont drew his cloak more closely around him as he had to breast that gusty wind on his way back to the mansion. On nearing the pond, the sur. face of which gave forth a feeble shimmering light, he quickened his pace; but-all in a moment he stopped short, and staggered as if about to fall, on beholding a dark form standing on the very ~ Teen (C(O) 6)(0)(0) S (C(O)