The Mysteries of London; or, Lights and Shadows of London Life — page 128: what you’re looking at

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

eo 122 THE MYSTERIES OF LONDON, just now, that I should find it difficult to resist the | and prepared her to receive any farthor information conclusion,” “ And yet you are still a sceptic?”’ “T acknowledge it.” “Yours is a cold and cheerless creed, Walsingham,” added the earl, “ and with such a belief I wonder not that you should surround yourself with the fleeting pleasures of the world. You, as a materialist, may find it difficult to appreciate the more etherial de- lights which the imaginative and spiritual enjoy, but you can yet acknowledge that there are influences which we feel every day without being able to account for or explain.” “ And you would teach me then to believe, Arthur, that this spectral appearance by which you are occa- sionally visited is no illusion, but a reality?” “A reality,” repeated the earl; “that I am as fully ‘onvinced of as I am of my own existence. The tra- ditiun of our family—the testimony of my own ex- perience, and, above all, the facts I disclosed in those letters that I wrote to you when at Paris, have long since brought me to this conclusion. Indeed were it not so,” he continued in a lower tone, «j should dread the still more horrible conviction that I should be driven to as an alternative.” “What then would you apprehend?” inquired Walsi somewhat startled by the deep signi- ficance the earl had thrown into the last few words. “That there has descended with the title the here- ditary curse of insanity,” was the reply, given in @ voice expressing such acute and painful emotions that Walsingham could not fail to be sensibly touched by the utterance. “Tet me beseech you, my dear Winterton,” he exclaimed, “ to banish for ‘ever the idea of a malady that is happily not likely to attack your own strong mind; and certainly at your matured age, had there been any real cause for such @ suspicion, you will yourself admit that some symptoms of a stronger character than that which you allude to would have appeared before. But rely upon it, the secluded life that you have led haa been the sole originator of these ungrounded fancies. With the cheerful com- panionship of my cousin Adeline, you will be insen- sibly lured back again to earth, and the study of the supernatural, that I know has long fascinated your attention and monopolised your hours of leisure, will be abandoned for the more congenial attractions of a young bride.” ‘ I see, like the rest of the world, Walsingham, you consider that such opinions as those | entertain are best assailed by ridicule,” returned the earl; “but though we have been so long engaged im their discus- sion, it was not solely with the view of making you a convert to my own belief that I wrote to you this morning to call. To-morrow your cousin will become the Countess of Winterton, and as our own acquaint- ance has now been of some duration, and you have yourself been interested in promoting the alliance between our families, I am desirous of employing the brief interval of celibacy that remains, in asking you a few questions relative to certain circumstances con- nectel with it.” “The Earl of Winterton need feel no restraint in continuing his former confidence—should he still think his friend worthy of it,” rejoined Walsingham. “Let me first inquire then, if Lady Adeline is in- formed of my peculiar belief—call it infirmity if you will ?” “ Agreeable te the wishes you expressed, I apprised her of the occasional occurrence of this hallucination, — ——e —— Seas Pica iar as kee, CONN you might feel disposed to give from your own lips.” “And she was not even then averse to the union ?” “So far from it, that, with myself, she concurred in hoping that her presence might be found efficacious in ensuring the return of mental tranquillity.” “ And you, Walsingham,” urged the earl, emphati- cally—* you do not yourself believe that this spectral appearance to which I am subject should be regarded as the precursor of mental alienation?” “Certainly not,” answered that nobleman, “or I would have before stated my views candidly, and have refused my consent. Since you have desired my real opinion, I will now, however, frankly confess that I regard it as a kind of ocular illusion induced by some affection of the retina, and that the hereditary trans- mission of the same spectral appearance may be ac- — counted for in precisely the same manner, The optical defect has descended to yourself, and in all probability will cease to be transmitted further.” “Your tone is encouraging,” said the earl; “and even if I differ with you in assigning it to such a cause, 1 am grateful to you for the strong confidence you have expressed respecting a point that I had hardly dared before to mention, It is this that has often made me patise in contracting a marriage, lest I should involuntarily transmit that frightful malady te my son, if Heaven should bless me with an heir,’’ “ And if your marriage should be unblessed with issue, then,” added Lord Walsingham, “I believe your estate descends to your late brother’s son?” | “It does so; but, unconscious of the fortune that destiny may place at his command, he is now herding with the refuse of society, at least so I infer from the last information I received concerning him. The pos- sibility of his inheriting any portion of this property would be to me 4 source of constant regret, only that I feel it is too unlikely to give me a moment’s un- easiness.” “When you made me a recipient of your confi- dence,” observed Walsingham, “ and, as a proof of the unrestricted faith you reposed in my secresy, imparted the exact nature of this arrangement, I never sought to inquire further; but since you have yourself broached the subject, I would fain ask the motive for — this apparently inveterate hatred—a feeling that is the more remarkable in you, since there is no instance that I have ever noticed of it being extended to | another than your nephew.” “Some day, Walsingham, I will acquaint you with | | what will be found a curious page in our family his- tory,” replied the earl, evasively; “but let me now | recall to your recollection those letters that I forwarded | to you, and in which, at yous earnest persuasiut, IT | uuburthened my mind of that which I could not | nerve myself to relate when you were present. I have your solemn assurance that they were destroyed as soon as read ?” “On my honour, they were consigned by my own hand to the flames; but surely you have no reason to suppose it otherwise ?” “ The reason I ask you so pointedly,” resumed the | earl, “is that, from some words dropped as a threat by the rogue that I had trusted so implicitly, I feared that he might have in some manner become acquainted with their contents. What you have said, however, | convinces me that it is impossible.” “You allude, of course, to your former agent, the | man Jarvis, with whose nefarious conduct you have 7 acquainted me?” Ghooksycom