Penny Dreadful Multipack Vol. 1 (Illustrated. Annotated. 'Wagner The Wehr-Wolf,' 'Varney The Vampire,' 'The Mysteries of London Vol. 1' + Bonus Features) (Penny Dreadful Multipacks) (221 page)

 
"Well, if  we don't
find out which vault they have opened, it's no matter. We have seen enough to
convince us that you were right, sir, in all you told us."
    "And as the body-snatchers are not here," added
another police-officer, "we had better get back as quick as we can and
report the church's having been broke open to our Superintendent."
    "And I will return with you," said Markham;
"for when it is light I may perhaps be enabled to conduct you to within a
short distance of the street - even if not into the very street itself - where
the den is situated which those monsters frequent or inhabit."
    The officers and Richard accordingly returned to the
station-house whence they came; and as soon as the Superintendent heard that
the church had really been broken open, he apologised to Markham for his former
incredulity.
    " You will, however, admit, sir," said this
functionary, "that your narrative was calculated to excite strange
suspicions relative to the condition of the intellects of the person who told
it.
    " I presume you fancied that I had escaped from a
madhouse?" observed Markham.
    "To tell you the truth, I did," answered the
Superintendent: "you were in such a dreadful condition! And that reminds
me that you are all wet and covered with mud: please to step into my private
room, and you will find every thing necessary to make you clean and
comfortable."

* * * * *

    Day dawned shortly after seven; and at that
time might be seen Richard Markham, accompanied by an officer in plain clothes,
and followed by others at a distance, threading the streets and alleys in the
neighbourhood of the Bird-cage Walk.
    The sun rose upon that labyrinth of close, narrow, sad
wretched thoroughfares, and irradiated those sinks of misery and crime as well
as the regal palace and the lordly mansion at the opposite end of London.
    But the search after the house in which Markham had
witnessed such horrors and endured such intense mental agony on the preceding
night, was as vain and fruitless as if its existence were but a dream.
    There was not a street which Markham could remember having
passed through; there was not a house to which even his suspicions attached.
    And yet, may be, he and his official companions proceeded up
the very street, and went by the door of the very house, which they sought.
    After a useless search throughout that neighourhood for
nearly four hours, Markham declared that he was completely at fault.
    The police accordingly abandoned any further proceedings on
that occasion. It was however agreed between them and Markham that the
strictest secrecy should be preserved relative to the entire business, In order
that the measures to he subsequently adopted with a view to discover the den of
the murderers, might not be defeated by the tattle of busy tongues.

RICHARD AND ISABELLA

RICHARD MARKHAM had determined to lose no time in revealing to
Count Alteroni those adventures which had rendered him an inmate of the Giltspur
Street Compter for two years.
    And yet it was hard to dare the destruction of the bright
visions which had dawned upon him in respect to the Signora Isabella it was
cruel to dash away from his lips the only cup of enjoyment which he had tasted
for a long time.
    He knew not how the count would receive such a narrative as
he had to tell. Doubtless it would alarm him: "for society," thought
Richard, "was too apt to judge rashly by outward appearances. Should the
count nobly and generously rise above the prejudices of the world, and believe
the statement of Markham's innocence, corroborated as it was by the document
signed by Talbot,
 
alias
 
Pocock, much would have been gained by a candid and honourable
confession. But if the reverse ensued, and the count banished Richard from his
friendship, the young man felt that he himself would only have performed a
melancholy duty, and broken asunder of his own accord those bonds which, were
he to remain silent, an accident might one day snap abruptly and rudely.
 
     "I feel happy," said Markham to himself, as
he arose in the morning after the day on which the fruitless search mentioned
in the preceding chapter took place,- "I feel happy even while about to
consummate a sacrifice which may destroy the most golden of my dreams! The
Infinite Being has declared that the days of our life shall be marked with
sorrow; and they are - as I can well testify! But the afflictions to which we
are subject are attended with blessed antidotes ;- moral sources of enjoyment
are given to us, as fruits and flowers for the soul; and the teachings of
interest, as well as the impulses of gratitude, should lead us to consider with
attention those duties we owe each other, for the sake at the bounties the
Almighty showers upon us."
    So reasoned Richard Markham. 
    That evening he arrived at the count's abode near Richmond,
a few minutes before dinner.
    A kind welcome awaited him on the part of the count and
countess; and the eyes of Signora Isabella expressed the satisfaction she experienced
at his return.
    When Markham was seated with the count after dinner, he
determined to commence the explanation which he had resolved to give.
    He was just about to broach the subject, when the count
observed, "By the bye, I am happy to inform you that I received letters
from Greenwood this morning; and he assures me that the speculation looks
admirably."
    "I am delighted to hear it," returned Richard.
"But the chief object of my present visit — " 
    "Was to speak about this Steam Packet business, no
doubt," interrupted the count. " Well, if you like to take shares in
it, it is not too late. But what do you think? I am going to tell you a secret.
You know that I look upon you as a friend of the family; besides, I am well
aware that you respect Isabel and love her like a brother —  " 
    "What did you say, count?" stammered
Markham. 
    " I was going to tell you that Mr. Greenwood - who is
immensely rich-has taken a liking to Isabella —  " 
    "Indeed!"
    " Yes - and I gave him some little encouragement."
    "What! without previously ascertaining whether the
Signora's feelings are reciprocal?" cried Richard.
    "As for that, my dear Markham, remember that a dutiful
daughter knows no will and no inclination save those of her parents."
    "This is not an English doctrine," said Markham.
" so far as the principle applies to affairs of the heart."
   
 
"It is nevertheless an
Italian doctrine," exclaimed the count, somewhat haughtily; "and I
have no doubt that Isabella will ever recognise the authority of her parents in
this as in all other matters."
    As the count uttered these words, he rose and led the way to
the drawing-room; and thus deprived Markham of that opportunity of making the
confession he had intended.
 
   Richard was unhappy and dispirited. He perceived that the
count was inclined to favour Mr. Greenwood's suit; and he now felt how dear
Isabella was to him - how profoundly seated was his love for the beauteous
Italian!
    Misfortunes never come alone. Richard was destined to
receive a crushing blow, although innocently inflicted, the moment he entered
the drawing-room.
    The countess was conversing with her daughter upon her own
family connections.
    "Do not let us interrupt your conversation," said
the count, as he took his seat upon the sofa near his wife.
    "We were only talking about the Chevalier Guilderstein,
whose death was mentioned in yesterday's newspaper," observed the
countess. " I was saying that I remembered how delighted I was when I
discovered a few years ago that the chevalier was not related to our family, as
he had always pretended to be."
    "And why so?" inquired the count.
    "Because the father of the chevalier was put to death
in Austria for coining - or rather upon a charge  of coining," answered
the countess; "and although his innocence was discovered and proclaimed a
few years after his death, I should not like to have amongst my ancestors a man
who had been criminally convicted, however innocent he may in reality have
been."
    "Certainly not," said the count. "I should be
very sorry for any one whose character had ever been tainted with suspicion, to
have the slightest connection with our family."
    "I cannot say that I agree with you," observed
Isabel. "There can be no disgrace attached to one who has suffered under a
false accusation: on the contrary - such a person is rather deserving of our
deepest sympathy and —" 
    "Heavens, Mr. Markham!" ejaculated the Countess;
"are you ill? Bella, dear - ring the bell - get Mr. Markham a glass of
water —  " 
    "It is nothing - nothing, I can assure you,"
stammered Richard, whose countenance was as pale as that of a corpse.
"Miss Isabella, do not give yourself any trouble! It was only a sudden
faintness - a spasm: but it is over now."
    With these words Markham hurried to the bed-chamber which
was always allotted to him when he visited the count's residence.
    All the horrible tortures which man can conceive, harassed
him at that moment. He threw himself upon his couch - he writhed - he struggled,
as if  against a serpent which held him in its embraces. His eyes seemed
as if they were about to start from their sockets; his teeth were fast closed -
he wrung his hair - he beat his breast - and low moans escaped from his bosom.
The
 
fiat
 
of the count had gone forth. He
who would claim or aspire to connection with his family must be like the wife
of Caesar - beyond all suspicion. It was not enough that such an one should be
innocent of any crime: he must - never have even been accused of one. Such was
the disposition of the count  - elicited by an accident and unexpectedly;
and Markham could now divine the nature of the treatment which he would be
likely to experience, were he to reveal his misfortunes to a nobleman who
entertained such punctilious and extremely scrupulous notions!
    "But I was mad to imagine that Isabella would ever
become mine;" thought Markham within himself, as soon as he became
somewhat more tranquil. "It was folly - supreme folly  - rank,
idiotic, inconceivable folly, in me to have cherished a hope which could never
be realised! All that now remains for me to do, is to abandon myself to my
adverse fate - to attempt no more struggles against the destinies that await
me, - to leave this house without delay - to return home, and bury myself in a
solitude from which no persuasions nor attractions shall henceforth induce me
to emerge! Would that I could leave this house this very evening ;- but
appearances compel me to remain at least until tomorrow! I must endeavour to
assume that ease of manner - that friendly confidence, which is reciprocal here
:- for a few hours I must consent to act the hypocrite; and to-morrow -
to-morrow, I shall be relieved from that dread necessity.- I shall be compelled
to bid adieu to Isabella for ever! No avowal of my past sufferings is now
required - since I shall to-morrow leave this hospitable mansion, never to
return!
    A flood of tears relieved the unfortunate young man; and he
descended once more to the drawing- room - very pale, but as calm and tranquil
as usual. Isabella glanced towards him from time to time with evident anxiety;
and, in spite of all his endeavours to appear cheerful and at his ease, he was
embarrassed, cool, and reserved. Isabella was wounded and mortified by his
conduct :- she attempted to rally him, and to ascertain whether he was really
chilling in his manners on purpose, or only melancholy against his will: but
she received frigid and laconic replies, which annoyed and disheartened the
poor girl to such an extent that she could scarcely refrain from tears. Markham
felt that, as an honourable man, he could no longer aspire to the hand of the
signora, after the expression of opinion accidentally conveyed to him by the
count and countess; and he therefore forbore from any attempt to render himself
agreeable, or to afford the slightest testimony of his passion. Acting with
these views, and endeavouring to seem only properly polite, he fell into the
opposite extreme, and grew cold and reserved. The count and countess imagined
that he was unwell, and were not  therefore annoyed by his conduct ;- but
poor Isabella, who was deeply attached to him, set down his behaviour to
indifference. This idea on her part was confirmed, when Markham, in the course
of conversation, intimated his intention of returning home on the following
day.
    " Return home! and what for?" ejaculated the
count. "You have no society there, and here you have some - unamusing and
tedious though it may be."
    "Never did I pass a happier period of my existence than
that which I have spent in your hospitable abode," said Richard.
    "Then remain with us at least ten days or a
fortnight," cried the count. "We shall then be visiting London
ourselves, for we have promised to pass a few weeks with Lord and Lady
Tremordyn."
    "Lord Tremordyn! " exclaimed Richard.
    "Yes - do you know him?"
    "Only by name. But did not his daughter marry Sir
Rupert Harborough?" said Markham, shuddering as he pronounced the abhorred
name.
    "The same. Sir Robert treats her shamefully - neglects
her in every way, and passes whole months
 
away from his home. He has,
moreover, expended all the fortune she brought him, and is again, I understand,
deeply involved in debt."
    "Poor Lady Cecilia! " ejaculated Isabella.
"She is deeply to be pitied!"
    "But to return to this sudden resolution of yours to
depart to-morrow," said the count.
    "Which resolution is very suddenly taken," added
the signora, affecting to be engaged in contemplating a book of prints which
lay upon the table before her, while her beautiful countenance was suffused
with a deep blush.
    " My resolution is sudden, certainly," observed
Richard. "Circumstances over which I have no control, and which it would
be useless to communicate to you, frequently compel me to adopt sudden
resolutions, and act up to them. Be assured, however, that the memory of your
kindness will always be dear to me."
    "You speak as if we were never to meet again,"
exclaimed the count.
    "We cannot dispose of events in this world according to
our own will," said Markham, emphatically. "Would to God we
could!"
    "But there are certain circumstances in which we seem
to be free agents," said Isabella, still holding down her head; "and
remaining in one place, or going to another, appears to be amongst those
actions which depend upon our own volition."
    At this moment a servant entered the room and informed the
count that the private secretary of the envoy of the Grand Duke of Castelcicala
to the English court desired to speak with him in another apartment.
    "Oh! I am interested in this," exclaimed the
Countess; and, upon a signal of approval on the part of her husband, she
accompanied him to the room where the secretary was waiting.
    Markham was now alone with Isabella.
    This was a probable occurrence which he had dreaded all that
evening. He felt himself cruelly embarrassed in her presence; and the silence
which prevailed between them was awkward to a degree.
    At length the signora herself spoke.
    "It appears that you are determined to leave us, Mr.
Markham ?" she said, without glancing towards him, and in a tone which she
endeavoured to render as cool and indifferent as possible.
    "I feel that I have been too long here already
signora," answered Richard, scarcely knowing what reply to make.
    "Do you mean to tax us with inattention to your
comfort, Mr. Markham?"
    "God forbid, signora! In the name of heaven do not
entertain such an idea!"
    "Mr. Markham has been treated as well as our humble
means would admit; and he leaves us with an abruptness which justifies us in
entertaining fears that he is not comfortable."
    "How can I convince you of the injustice of your
suspicions ?" ejaculated Markham. "You would not wantonly wound my
feelings, Miss Isabella, by a belief which is totally unfounded? No! that is
not the cause of my departure. My own happiness - my own honour  - every
thing commands me to quit a spot where - where I shall, nevertheless, leave so
many reminiscences of joy and tranquil felicity behind me! I dare not explain
myself farther at present; perhaps
 
never
 
will you know the cause - but,
pardon me, signora - I am wandering - I know not what I say!"
    "Pray compose yourself, Mr. Markham," said
Isabella. now raising her head from the book, and glancing towards him. 
   "Compose myself. Isabella - signora, I mean," he
exclaimed: "
that