The Seamstress; or, The White Slave of England — page 34: what you’re looking at

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

THE SEAMSTRESS, the thought of wrecking her honour, her reputation, and her proud position—now feels that she cannot live longer without you, and is ready to make any sacrifice for the sake of that love which she bears thee!’’ “What — Oh! what would you have me do, Augusta?” demanded Mr. Lavenham, now terribly agitated ;—for he was tossed upon the whirlwind of indescribable feelings—his passion for that splendid creature heaving him on its billows in one direction, and his honourable principles urging him with a strong current in another. “What would I have you do, Julius?” echoed the Duchess, in a voice that was full of the con- centrated emotions evincing a desperate resolve irrevocably adopted. “Take me hence —let me fly with thee—and death alone shall henceforth part us!” a And once more she sank upon his breast, her own bosom heaving and sinking convulsively as she strained him in her arms. | For nearly a minute was the chivalrous-minded - man torn with conflicting feelings that tortured him as if he were stretched upon a rack; the workings of his countenance indicated all the rending anguish which he thus endured ;—strong spasms convulsed his soul and shook his entire being to its deepest confines. *No—no! this must not be!” he suddenly ex- claimed, tearing himself with an almost wild ab- ruptness from the lady, who started back with a cry resembling a suppressed shriek. ‘This must not be!” he repeated, in a state of terrible excite- ment; then, snatching up one of the silver fruit- | knives from the table close at hand, he said ina voice that all ina moment sank and changed toa low, thick hoarseness, “Sooner, Augusta—sooner would I plunge this weapon into thy bosom and) then immolate myself upon the blood-stained altar of our love, than that thou should’st live to feel the world’s cold scorn and become an outcast from that society which thou wast made to gladden and embellish! No — never, never will I consent to become the destroyer of thy peace—the worker of thy ruin!” “You refuse — you refuse!” murmured the wretched lady, sinking at his feet; and, extending | her clasped hands towards him, she said, “Strike, | Julius—strike! Better to perish by thine hand, than live to feel that all thy love was a mockery— | sll thine affection a falsehood and a deceit!” | “Unhappy woman,” exclaimed Lavenham, “thou | 27 by the volume of harmony which the magnificent band poured forth. The Duke himself had been for some minutes absent from the saloons: a do- mestic had delivered to him a note which seemed to have demanded his immediate attention elsewhere. Lady Mary was still receiving the marked cour- tesies of the young and handsome Earl of Mostyn- dale ;—Lady Clarissa, her elder sister, was pouting in the card-room amidst the dowager whist-players; —and the Marquis of Arden was flirting with the fairest of the many lovely beings whose presence graced the ducal mansion this night. All were therefore occupied with their own amuse- ments or their own thoughts in those brilliantly- lighted saloons,—when suddenly a piercing shriek, pealing through the sounding music, struck like a death-note upon every ear. The band ceased in a moment—and for a moment also a dread silence pervaded the saloons. Every foot was paralysed in the midst of the dance—every cheek turned deathly pale—every lip became ashy white and quivering;—and eyes, that an instant before were lighted up with love and joy, now sud- denly gazed in vacant dismay. Then there was a simultaneous rush on the part of several nobles and gentlemen towards the con- _servatory whence that piercing shriek had evidently thrilled forth so agonisingly ;—the ladies followed, clinging to each other as if all were menaced by some common danger ;—and in another moment the tide of startled guests poured into the hot- house. Ejaculations of mingled horror and amazement on the part of the foremost warned those who were in the rear that something terrible had occurred; and a scene of indescribable confusion, dismay, and consternation ensued. For, behold! the Duchess of Belmont was lying upon the floor of the conservatory, weltering in her blood; and the red dyed fruit-knife which had in- flicted the wound, was held in the hand of Mr. Lavenham, who was apparently about to escape by means of the glass door which stood wide open, when he was suddenly seized upon by the foremost gentlemen, amidst the cries of execration that branded him as the murderer of the Duchess. CHAPTER IX. THE THREE VISITORS.—THE CATASTROPHE, art driving me to desperation—madness! Iam not We stated towards the close of the preceding chap- the master of my own actions——” ter that while the Duchess of Belmont and Mr. “Strike, I say—strike!’ murmured the Duchess, Layenham were conversing in the hot-house, a note | whose brain was reeling and whose senses were had been delivered to the Duke who immediately abandoning her. _quitted the saloons to devote his attention to some _ “O God!” ejaculated Julius Lavenham, who on urgent business to which it alluded. We now ob- his part felt as if the toils of hell were closing serve more explicitly that this letter was handed to rapidly in around him. him almost immediately after his wife had pro- % _ceeded to the conservatory in company with Mr. ¥ , * Lavenham. The domestic who presented the note, % # & ¥ * ~~. ei - The joyous scene was at its height—the dance was proceeding with all its thrilling fervour and exhilarating influence :—and the glorious music was sounding loud and triumphant through the splendid saloons of Belmont House. The absence of the Duchess and Mr. Lavenham had not been observed ; —and their yoices in the conservatory were drowned . . whispered an intimation to the effect that it re- garded some pressing matter;—and his Grace, stepping aside from the group of nobles with whom he had been conversing, glanced hastily over the billet. A quivering sensation shot through his frame, and his naturally pale cheeks blanched as completely as if Death had suddenly laid its icy CONNIEDOO — (E©)