The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 54: what you’re looking at

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

SUICIDE OR MURDER? oo this man’s fiendish villainy or heartless extortion. The dread of his persecution would poison all the little happiness that remains to me in this life; my thoughts by day and my dreams by night would be filled with images of horror con- jured up by the knowledge that there existed in the world one individual who could blast my reputation in a moment. Such an existence would be a perpetual torture, a prolonged excruciation, an endless series of maddening agonies. No, no; I cannot endure it, Francis; and either — ” ‘Speak, Eleanor,’ said the earl, trembling with appre- hension beneath the look of awful gloom and sombre deter- mination which settled itself upon his wife’s countenance as she suddenly stopped short in her observations. ‘‘ You were saying that either — ”’ ‘Hither that man or myself must die,’”’ answered the countess, in a deep voice; and there was a ferocious glare in her eyes, which showed how terrible were the thoughts that the cruellest combination of circumstances had excited in the mind of a woman naturally so generous-hearted and so magnanimous. “Holy God! what mean you, Eleanor? ’’ demanded the earl, grasping her wrist with convulsive violence and gazing with horrified looks into the depths of those eyes wherein an ominous light was burning. ‘““T mean,”’ she answered, with the measured accents of despair, “ that you must now choose between two appalling alternatives. I mean,” she continued, with the emphasis of stern resolution, “ that you have now to make up your mind whether you shall follow to the grave the corpse of a suicide wife, or whether that wife shall live, but with the brand of a murderess upon her brow! ”’ ‘‘ Just Heaven! has it come to this, Eleanor? ” exclaimed the nobleman, trembling from head to foot, as if struck with a palsy. ‘““T have told you the alternatives,” she replied, with the awiul coldness of despair. ‘“‘ That villain and myself cannot continue to breathe the same air. So long as he encumbers this world with his presence, he may cross my path at any moment; and I repeat that I could not live in the constant excitement of such an apprehension. No, either he or I must perish. A crime will have to be committed by my hand; and it is for you to decide whether that crime shall be suicide COnnICLOOoOKS (©)