The Works of George W. M. Reynolds — page 36: what you’re looking at

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

THE DRAMA OF A NIGHT 19 purposes of evil, made a hasty sign indicative that all was right, and this was promptly understood by Emma and Julia, who were now standing by the side of the bed, closely watching Maravelli. Taking up the corpse of the child, Mrs. Ranger hurried back to the apartment of the laundress, to whom she immediately consigned the light but somewhat repulsive burden. Then having seen Mrs. Hubbard, who had previously huddled on a cloak and bonnet, disappear with the object entrusted to her up the staircase to the laundry, Mrs. Ranger sped back to Agatha’s chamber. Here she once more resumed her own cloak, bonnet, and thick veil. Then, taking Maravelli’s hand, she led him forth with the same appearance of profound and mysterious precau- tion which she had observed when introducing him thither three-quarters of an hour previously. Conducting him down the secret staircase, out of the villa, into the garden, she put in his hands a purse which gave forth that golden chink so pleasing to his ears, and at the same time she said to him, in a low whisper, ‘‘ You have not been detained long.” “No,” responded the doctor, in an 1 equally subdued tone. mre should not mind having a similar adventure every night of my life.’ They now continued to advance in silence. The gardens were threaded, and the back gate was reached. Mrs. Hub- bard was not there. Mrs. Ranger and the doctor accordingly waited five minutes. ‘ Wherefore did we not bring the corpse with us?” he asked. ‘‘ It would have been much better.” “ I was fearful that if you should happen to be observed and an alarm should be created,” responded Mrs. Ranger, “ the most serious peril might ensue. But I have entrusted the child to a woman in whom I can rely. She will be here in a moment; she cannot possibly be long. Hark! I hear footsteps. Perhaps she cannot find her way through the darkness of the night. Stay you here; I will go and meet her.”’ Thus speaking, Mrs. Ranger relinquished the doctor’s hand, and proceeded some twenty yards in the direction where she had heard footsteps moving. But just at the instant that a ray of moonshine gleamed from behind a cloud, shadowing forth her form cloaked and veiled as it CORNICLOO CS (C(O) im