The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 43: what you’re looking at

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_ THE MYSTERIES OF THE COURT. — 37 CHAPTER VIII. THE AVENGING HUSBAND. Lorp CLANDON reached the house; and in the looks of the domestics whom he found in the hall, he beheld consternation and wonderment depicted. At the same instant the Duke of Marchmont came hastening down the staircase, crying in a loud voice, “ Let Mrs. Bailey’s carriage be got ready this moment! Hasten away, some of you, to give the orders!—let there. be not a single instant lost unnecessarily !” Three or four footmen scampered off to the stables to issue their master’s commands; and the Duke, now perceiving Lord Clandon, walked straight up to him with sternly fierce looks, and said in tones of deep, concentrated rage, “ Hugh, my happiness is wrecked through your accursed counsel !”’ “ For heaven’s sake, my dear uncle,” exclaimed Lord Clandon, “do not reproach me! Be just— be generous—as you have ever yet proved your- self.” “O Hugh, I am half mad!’ murmured the Duke. “Forgive me—I wronged you! But come hither.” Thus speaking, he hurried his nephew into the nearest parlour; and when they were alone there together, he began pacing to and fro in the most violent agitation. ““ My dear uncle, it kills me to behold you thus !” said Clandon, approaching his relative with an air of earnest sympathizing entreaty. “Tell me what I can do S “ Nothing, nothing: my happiness is gone for ever! And yet,” said the Duke, suddenly assum- ing a calmer aspect and a more dignified manner, “T ought not to torture myself thus for a vile woman and an infamous young man. Hugh, are you aware,” he added, speaking as if through his set teeth, “that she whom I lately called my wife and loved as such, is unworthy of that name and of that love P” “Alas! my dear uncle,” responded Lord Clan- don, “I met my unfortunate brother; and Ls (pl Ry “Not a syllable, Hugh!” interrupted the Duke sternly, “not a syllable! I know your generous heart—I know how you love your brother: but if you dare plead for him, I quit the room this in- stant—or you shall quit the house for ever! I know that they will tell me they are innocent. Guilt always proclaims its innocence; and the more damning it is, the bolder is its effrontery. Hugh, not another word!”—and thus speaking, the Duke of Marchmont walked forth from the room. Lord Clandon remained there for a few minutes after his uncle had left him; and then he hastily ascended towards the drawing-room. But on the landing he met Mrs. Bailey, who was descending from her own chamber, ready dressed as if for a journey. “Oh, dear me, my lord,” she said, quivering with a nervous trepidation: “what a dreadful thing! The Duke has ordered me to take Eliza away as soon as my travelling-carriage can be got in readiness < “And what else did he say?” asked Hugh eagerly. “Nothing,” responded Mrs. Bailey : ¢ nor would he allow me to put in a single word. I hope, my lord, you have not told his Grace all that I said to you the other day ?” “Not for worlds, Mrs. Bailey !—not for worlds, my dear madam!” rejoined Clandon hastily. “And for heaven’s sake, if the Duke questions you in any shape or form before you take your departure,—beware how you breathe a syllable of those circumstances which you mentioned to me !” “T shall take very good care not to do that,” answered the lady, still trembling with nervous agitation. “Oh, what a shocking thing !—and I who hadn’t my smelling-bottle at the moment I heard of it !” “ Hush!—footsteps are ascending!’ said Lord Clandon. } In a few moments the Duke of Marchmont made his appearance,—his demeanour now sternly and haughtily composed, but with an evidently forced rigidity of the features; and his coun- tenance was ghastly pale. “My dear madam,” he said, approaching Mrs. Bailey and taking her hand, “I am grieved that it should become your duty, as my wife’s only re- maining relative upon her own side, to bear her away from a house which ceases to be her home. I thank you for the readiness with which you have complied with my request. Take the guilty woman with you: in a few days my solicitors shall communicate to you what my intentions are. Farewell, madam. Hugh, attend upon Mrs. Bailey to her carriage and see that she accom- panies her !” With these words, the Duke was moving ab- ruptly away,—when, as a thought struck him, he turned and said, “If she goes down upon her knees, Hugh, to entreat and implore that you will bring a conciliatory message to me, I com- mand you, on pain of my unforgiving displeasure —on pain of my eternal wrath—-to refuse com- phiance !” He then passed into the nearest room, locking the door behind him; so that the quick turning of the key reached the ears of Mrs. Bailey and Lord Clandon, who remained upon the landing. In a few minutes one of Eliza’s maids descended from above; and presenting a letter to Mrs. Bailey, said, “ Her Grace entreats, ma’am, that you will hand this to the Duke.” “Indeed, poor soul,” cried Mrs. Bailey, “I can do nothing of the sort: for the Duke will neither hear nor see anybody on her Grace’s behalf. Un- less indeed your lordship,” she added, addressing Clandon, “ would make one last effort i “Yes, yes—I will!” responded Hugh. “Yes— I will! It is a sacred duty—and even though I risk my uncle’s displeasure, I will perform it.” He took the letter, and hastened to knock at the door of the apartment in which the Duke had shut himself. His Grace demanded from within who it was; and when Lord Clandon answered, the door was at once opened. The uncle and nephew remained closeted there together for about ten minutes, while Mrs, Bailey and the lady’s-maid waited on the landing. “ How is her Grace now ?” inquired the former: | | my (C(O)IAN) 0)(0)(0) Gc S (CO)