The Seamstress; or, The White Slave of England — page 83: what you’re looking at

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

TO THE SEAMSTRESS. “'To become the Marchioness of Arden!” was | the response. The proud Duke of Belmont started as if stung by a serpent—and then staggered back as if reeling beneath the effect of a violent blow: but almost ammediately recovering himself, he said, “ Young woman, I am in no humour to bandy jests with you—and this familiarity on your part is very in- consistent with your usual good taste.” “IT can assure your lordship that I am in earnest,” replied Clementine, with a resolute de- cision in her manner; “and unpalatable as my de- mand may be, nothing shall deter me from persist- ing in it.” ‘But you are mad, Clementine!” cried the Duke, angrily. “Your Grace will be mad to refuse the boon I ask,” was the tranquil rejoinder. | “Ah! if you be really serious, young woman,” exclaimed Belmont, with an ironical laugh, “ you must doubtless fancy that you have the power of coercing me by the threat of revealing the whole proceedings relative to Virginia Mordaunt. Well—go to my son—confess it all—tell him that his father employed you to stand between him and his foolish love for that young creature—-and if-he comes to demand explanations of me, I shall know how to answer him. Begone—or my lacqueys shall eject you ignominiously from the house!” But Clementine moved. not;—and, instead of quailing beneath the stern and indignant looks which the Duke of Belmont fixed upon her, she only smiled with a self-complacency that seemed to argue a consciousness of some secret power of a far more formidable character than that to which his Grace had just alluded. The nobleman marked that smile of supreme satisfaction which wavered upon her lips—and a feeling of uneasiness crept gradually over him: for his conscience was not so pure as to enable him to hurl a farther defiance at the woman who now assumed so determined an attitude in his presence. “Once more I ask you,” he said, in a tremulous tone, ‘‘ whether you be really serious in the extra- ordinary demand that you have made?” ° “And once more I assure your Grace,” replied the femme-de-chambre, “ that I am not only serious, but that I intend to gain my purpose.” “ But you cannot for an instant suppose that my son will assent to so monstrous a proposition?” exclaimed the Duke. “It is too absurd!” “JT was prepared for all kinds of harsh terms and strong objections, my lord,” said Clementine: “but I care nothing for the former, and feel confident of triumphing over the latter.” While she was yet speaking, a terrible thought flashed to the mind of the Duke; and his whole form was shaken as if with a strong spasm. He remembered the possibility—nay, even the proba- bility of the Frenchwoman having become possessed of a certain secret the knowledge of which would indeed throw him entirely into her power. Circum- stances had placed her at a particular time in a position to learn that secret ;—and although he had hitherto felt assured that the fatal truth had not transpired at the period when accident might have revealed it to her, he now recoiled in horror and alarm from the dreadful thought that he had been busy ing himself up with false hopes in that respect ! “TJ perceive what is passing in your Grace’s mind,” said the Frenchwoman, on whom this sudden change in the looks and manner of the Duke of Belmont was not lost: ‘and I need only observe that I know all !” “ All!’ echoed the miserable nobleman, stag- gering towards an arm-chair and sinking into it. “All!” he repeated in a tone of concentrated anguish, while his eyes were fixed with an expres- sion of vacant terror upon the calm, unruffled, but resolute countenance of the lady’s-maid. “'Yes—all!” she said, in a low deep voice; and the look which she flung upon the unhappy Belmont appeared to traverse his brain like a fiery arrow and fall upon his heart with the effect of red-hot iron. “My God! my God!” he moaned in the bitter- ness of his profound mental agony: “what new calamities has my wretched, wretched fate in store | forme? But, no—it is impossible!” he suddenly exclaimed; and starting from the chair, he seized the hand of the Frenchwoman with such violence that for an instant she feared he was about to do her a mischief. ‘Speak! speak!” he cried with frenzied vehemence: ‘deal no more in dark me- naces and mysterious threats which any one can blurt forth, even against the most immaculate. Tell me, young woman—what do you know that should place me in your power?” and he fixed his eyes upon her with a maniac wildness and a ferocious keenness that alarmed her. But instantly recovering her self-possession, and not even attempting to withdraw the hand which he retained in his iron grasp, she looked significantly into the depths of his savage glaring eyes, and said in a low clear voice, “The secret which your wife unconsciously revealed in her slumbers!’’ “Ah! then my worst fears are confirmed!” ex- claimed the Duke, a horrible expression, ghastly as death, seizing upon his countenance; and, as if suddenly struck with the palsy, he fell back all quivering and shaking into the arm-chair whence he had sprung with so fearful an excitement. At the same moment the features of Clementine grew radiant with triumph: for she saw that the victory was her own. * My lord,” she said, in that voice which, though measured and low, sounded rapid and loud as the peal of a deafening bell clanging through the brain of the miserable Duke,—“ I have dared to love your son—yes—to love, to worship, and to adore him— and now I dare also to aspire to the honour and happiness of becoming his wife. Think you, my lord, it was through any feeling of sympathy or regard for the house of Belmont that I troubled myself with his affection for the young seamstress ? No, my lord: the motives which influenced me in casting a blight upon his hopes and he’s, were those of selfishness and egotism. I loved him—and I resolved that he should not espouse another. I have waited patiently until now, in the fond ex- pectation that the impression which Virginia had made upon his mind would wear away. But I was mistaken in that hope. He still loves her as adoringly as ever—and day after day does he wan- der through the streets of London in search of his Virginia. This folly must be put an end to—and my love as well as my ambition must now be grati- fied. Your Grace has heard my demand—and its speedy fulfilment rests with you. ’Tis not for me —_—_—_—_—")yp " (Comalicel ooxe) “S G 0) im