The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 70: what you’re looking at

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

THE JOURNEY 53 A little before eleven Jocelyn was fetched from his room by a couple of gendarmes and conducted down to the court- yard, where a post-chaise and four appeared in readiness. The postilions were ready mounted, the lamps of the vehicle were lighted, and the moment Loftus entered, the door was banged and the equipage rolled at a rapid rate through the gloomy gate of the prefecture. Inside the chaise Jocelyn found himself in the companion- ship of two individuals. One of them he speedily recognized, by the light which the street-lamps shed into the carriage, as the very same police-agent who had arrested him nearly two months back at the Hotel Meurice; the other was unknown to Jocelyn, but was no doubt likewise an official of the prefecture. Both were in plain clothes, and the first- mentioned one immediately addressed our hero in terms of politeness, to which a somewhat cold though sufficiently courteous response was given; but it was not to be supposed that Jocelyn could feel very well inclined to converse fa- miliarly with any of the agents of that tyranny to which he was being subjected. On emerging from the prefecture, the post-chaise rattled along the quays bordering the Seine, and turning into the central avenue of the Champs Elysées, took the road for St. Germain. While in the Champs Elysées, and indeed within the immediate precincts of the suburbs, there were so many vehicles hurrying in every direction that it was impossible to say whether any particular one was following the post-chaise; but when proceeding farther along the road and the open country was gained, Jocelyn listened anxiously for the sounds of any vehicle in pursuit. For if his English friends were not thus following, how was it: possible that they could accomplish his rescue? Such was. the question which he asked himself a dozen times during: the first half-hour that elapsed after leaving the Parisian suburbs behind; but no sounds of any vehicle in pursuit reached his ears. The weather was fine, clear, and frosty; the moon sat enthroned in silver splendour amidst the deep blue of the cloudless overarching sky, which was gemmed with myriads of stars, those chaste handmaids of the queen of night. The police-agents, finding that Jocelyn did not encourage them in conversation, scon sank into silence; but through CoOnniclooolks (C(O)