The Works of George W. M. Reynolds — page 387: what you’re looking at

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

370 THE COURT OF LONDON recognizing Bencull’s hoarse tones, she hastened down- stairs again, sick at heart with the apprehension that Sir Douglas had been retaken. Bencull, Bob the Durrynacker, and.the Mushroom Faker had indeed returned, as Nell had just expected; but instead of being accompanied by the baronet, the first-mentioned of the three ruffians bore in his arms the inanimate form of a beautiful girl, while one of the others carried in his hand a bundle tied up in a shawl. ‘““ What in the devil’s name does this mean? ”’ demanded the Buttoner, surveying his comrades with surprise and the senseless damsel with a look of admiration. ‘* Here’s a present for Nell,’’ said Bencull, with a salacious leer, as he looked down upon the still and placid countenance of his fair burden. ‘“ Nell will break her in, in the usual style.” ‘ Ay, that will I!’ exclaimed the young woman, who was not only immensely relieved at finding her fears unfounded with regard to the recapture of the baronet, but who was also much struck with the sweet, touching, and interesting beauty of the fair stranger, whose charms she already resolved upon turning into gold. “ Mrs. Gale will give twenty guineas for this young creature; and I dare say the Marquis of Leveson, who is Mrs. Gale’s best patron, will give her at least five times as much. But come, bring her up- stairs and lay her down on the bed; for this swoon is so deep that 1t may be dangerous.”’ Bencull accordingly bore the beauteous girl in his arms to the chamber above; while Nell Gibson followed with the bundle which she took from the Mushroom Faker, who was carrying it. The fair stranger was deposited softly and gently upon the heap of flock; and Nell Gibson, stooping down, unfastened her bonnet, which was much crushed, so as to sive her air. A luxuriant profusion of soft and fine flaxen tresses now flowed over the wretched coverlid whereon reclined the damsel’s beauteous head; and though all tint of vital colouring had fled from her countenance, leaving it marble pale, and her eyes were closed as 1f in death, so still were the long brown lashes that rested on her cheeks, yet was there an air of such Madonna-like sweetness and angelic beauty about this lovely girl, that only a heart so intensely selfish as that of Nell Gibson, or so brutally fero- Gomichbooks (EO)