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) (289 page)

disturbance merely to get back the money, that would be useless,
when once it had found its way into the pockets of her husband."
    Having concluded this brutal speech, the Resurrection Man
desired his companions to await his return for a moment, while he proceeded to
fetch the lady her provisions for the next four-and-twenty hours.
    He accordingly hastened up the steps to the little back
room, whence he speedily returned with his basket in his hand.
    "You see that I expected how all this would end,"
he observed, with a hideous smile; "and so I prepared a little treat for
the lady. Here's a prime fowl; that brown paper contains ham; here's a new
loaf; and this is a bottle of as excellent sherry as one need drink."
    The Resurrection Man placed the articles, as he enumerated
them, upon the table; and Viola was pleased as she contemplated them - because
she perceived in this indulgence an earnest that the promise of her persecutors
would be fulfilled with respect to her restoration to liberty.
    "We must now take leave of Mrs. Chichester," said
Tidkins. "To-morrow evening, ma'am, at nine precisely, you shall be
free."
    The three men then left the dungeon.
    But ere the door closed upon the inmate once more, she moved
forward, caught Tomlinson by the hand, and said in an emphatic tone,
"Remember your solemn promise!"
    "Do not be alarmed, madam. There can be no interest to
detain you here beyond to-morrow."
    Viola retreated into the dungeon; and the door was shut.
    She heard the three persons who had just left her retire
from the subterranean prison: the closing of the trap-door also fell upon her
ears.
    Clasping her hands together, she exclaimed, "God grant
that they may not deceive me!"
    And then a vague terror stole upon her, - a horrible, an
absorbing dread lest those men intended to immure her for life in that solitary
cell, or else restore her to liberty only when they should have extorted from
her the remainder of her fortune.
    "Oh! fool that I was, to sign that paper!" she
exclaimed, in a paroxysm of despair. " Will men, who are capable of such
villany, such atrocity
 
as this that they have practised
towards me - will they remain satisfied with a portion of the gold that has
allured them to violate every principle of honour and humanity? Oh! no - no!
and perhaps - to conceal their crime the more effectually - they will not
hesitate to imbrue their bands in my blood!"
    Overpowered by this idea, the unhappy woman shrew herself
upon the bed, and wept bitterly.
    That torrent of tears relieved her; and in a few minutes she
grew somewhat composed.
    Then came reflections of a less painful nature.
    "Still - still there was something honest in the
appearance of that stock-broker: there was something feeling in his words! He
was performing a task against which his soul revolted. He commiserated my
condition: oh! yes - he sympathised with me! In him is my hope - my only hope!
I need not quite despair!"
    She thus reasoned herself into a state of comparative
calmness; and then a feeling of weakness came over her. She grew faint - her
head swam round.
    She rose, and walked up and down the cell to dispel the
sensation that thus oppressed her; and suddenly she recollected that many hours
had elapsed since she had eaten any thing. Her eyes fell upon the viands which
the Resurrection Man had placed on the table; and she hastened to break her
long fast. When she had partaken of a morsel of food, she poured some wine into
a glass and drank it.
    Scarcely, however, had she swallowed the liquor, when she
felt herself overpowered by a deep drowsiness; the glass dropped from her
hands; she rose from the chair, advanced a few paces, and then fell upon the
bed in a state of insensibility.

CHAPTER CXIII.

THE LOVERS.

THE morning, which succeeded the night that witnessed the
incidents just detailed, was clear, frosty, and fine. It was one of those
winter mornings when the soil is as hard as iron, but on which the sun shines
with gay light if not with genial heat. On such a morning we walk abroad with a
consciousness that the exercise benefits us: we feel the-blood acquiring a more
rapid circulation in our veins; we soon experience a pleasant glow pervading
the frame; our spirits become exhilarated; and we learn that even Winter has
its peculiar charms.
    Such was the feeling that animated Richard Markham, as,
after alighting from a public vehicle at Richmond, he proceeded rapidly along a
by-road that led through the fields at the back of Count Alteroni's mansion.
    His cheeks were tinged with a glow that set off his handsome
features to the greatest advantage: his dark eyes sparkled with an expression
of joy and hope; a smile played upon his lip; and he walked with his head erect
as if he felt proud of his existence - because that existence, in spite of its
vicissitudes, was protected by some auspicious star.
    O Love! art thou not a star full of hope and promise, like
that which guided the sages of the East to the cradle of their Redeemer ? -
like the welcome planet which heralds the dauntless mariner over the midnight
seas ? - like the twinkling orb which points the right track to the Arab
wanderer d the desert?
    Richard Markham pursued his way - his soul full of hope, and
love, and bliss.
    At a distance of about a quarter of a mile on his right
hand, the mansion of Count Alteroni soon met his eyes, surrounded by the
evergreens that, in contrast with the withered trees elsewhere, gave to the
spot where it stood the air of an oasis in the midst of a desert.
    Markham's heart beat quickly when that well. known dwelling
met his view; and for a moment a shade of melancholy passed over his
countenance, for he recalled to mind the happy hours he had once spent within
its walls.
    But that transitory cloud vanished from his brow, when his
eye caught a glimpse, in another instant, of a sylph-like form that was
threading a leafless grove at a little distance.
    Richard redoubled his steps, and was led, by the circuitous
winding of the path that he was pursuing, somewhat nearer to the Count's mansion.
    In a few minutes he reached the very spot where, in the
preceding spring, he had accidentally encountered Isabella, and where she
assured him of her unchanged and unchangeable love.
    He is now on that spot once more :- he pauses - looks around
- and Isabella again approaches.
    Richard rushes forward, and clasps the beauteous Italian
maiden in his arms.
    "Isabella - dearest Isabella! What good angel prompted
you to grant me this interview?" he exclaimed, when the first effusion of
joy was over.
    "Do you think me indiscreet, Richard ?" asked the
Signora, taking his arm, and glancing timidly towards his countenance.
    " Indiscreet, my sweet girl! " cried her lover:
"Oh! how can you suppose that I would entertain a harsh feeling with
regard to that goodness on your part which doubtless instigated you to afford
me the happiness of this meeting?"
    "But when we met here - seven or eight months ago,
Richard," said Isabella, "I told you that never - never would I
consent to a stolen interview. And now  - you may imagine —"
    "I imagine that you love me, Isabella - love me as I
love you," exclaimed Markham; "and what other idea can occupy my
thoughts when that one is present? Oh! you know not the ineffable joy - the
unequalled pleasure which I experienced when your letter reached me yesterday.
I recognised your handwriting immediately; and I seized the letter with
avidity, when it was brought to me in my study. And then, Isabella - will you
believe me when I tell you that I trembled to open it? I laid it upon the table
- my hand refused to break the seal. Pardon me - forgive me, if for a moment I
feared —"
    "That I had forgotten my vows-my plighted
affection," faltered Isabella, reproachfully.
    "Again I say pardon - forgive me, dearest girl; but -
oh! I have been so very unfortunate!"
    "Think not of the past, Richard," said Isabella,
tenderly.
    "The past! Oh! how can I cease to ponder upon the past,
when it has nearly bereaved me of all hope for the future?" exclaimed
Markham, in an impassioned tone.
    "Not all hope," murmured Isabella; "since
hope still remains to me!"
    "Angel that thou art!" cried Richard, pressing the
maiden's hand fondly. "How weak I am, since it is from thee that moral
courage ever is imparted."
    "You were speaking of my letter," said Isabella
with a smile.
  
 
"True! But so many emotions - joy and hope - sorrowful
reminiscences and brighter prospects, bewilder me! I will, however, try to talk
calmly! When your letter came, I feared to open it for some moments: I dreaded
a new calamity! But at length I called all my firmness to my aid; and a
terrible weight was taken from my soul, when my eye glanced at the first lines
of that letter which suddenly became as dear and welcome as a reprieve to the
condemned criminal. Then, when I saw that my beloved Isabella still thought of
me - still loved me —"
    " Oh, I did not tell you that in my letter,"
exclaimed Isabella, with a smile of bewitching archness.
    "No - but I divined it - I gathered it from the words
in which you conveyed to me your desire to see me - from the manner in which
you said that at eleven o'clock this morning you should walk in the very place
where we had met accidentally once before - oh! I suddenly became a new being:
never has my heart so light!"
    "And yet I said in my letter, Richard, that I wished to
see you upon a matter of business —"
    "Ah! Isabella, destroy not the charm which makes me
happy! Let no cold thought of worldly things chill the heavenly fervour of our
affection. Were it not for that love which reciprocally exists between us, how
should I have supported the misfortunes that have multiplied upon me?"
    "Again I say, Richard, allude not to the past. Alas!
bitter - bitter were the tears that I wept on that fatal night when —"
    "When I was publicly disgraced at the theatre - in the
midst of a triumph. Yes - Isabella, you were there - there, where my shame was
consummated!"
    "Accident had led us to the theatre that evening,"
answered Isabella. "My father had heard that a new tragedy, of which grand
hopes were entertained, was to be produced; and he insisted that I should
accompany him and my mother. I was compelled to assent to his desire - although
I prefer retirement and tranquillity to society and gaiety. You may conceive
our astonishment - you may imagine
 
my
 
surprise and
 
my
 
joy, when you came forward to
acknowledge the congratulations offered for a triumph so brilliantly achieved.
And then - but let us leave that subject - my blood turns cold when I think of
it!"
    "Oh! go on - speak of it, speak of it!" exclaimed
Markham, enthusiastically; "for although the reminiscence of that fearful
scene be like pouring molten lead upon an open wound, still it is sweet - it is
sweet, Isabella, to receive sympathy from such lips as yours."
    "Alas! I have little more to say - except that the
sudden intervention of that terrible man seemed to strike me as with the arrow
of death; and I became insensible. Then, Richard, -
 
then
," continued Isabella, in a
low and tremulous tone, "my mother suspected my secret - or rather
received a confirmation of the suspicion which she had long entertained!"
    "And she shuddered at the mere idea?" exclaimed
Markham, interrogatively.
    "No, Richard: my mother is kind and good - and, you
know, was always well disposed towards you: I have told you that much before!
She said little - and of that no matter! But my father - my father —"
    " He discovered
 
our
 
secret also!" exclaimed
Richard. " Oh! did he not curse me?"
    "He was cool and calm, when - on the following morning
- he spoke to me upon the subject. I answered him frankly: I admitted my
attachment for you."
    "What did he say, Isabella! Tell me every thing -
suppress not a word!"
    "Oh, heavens! he made me very miserable," returned
Isabella, tears trickling down her countenance. "But wherefore distress
both yourself and me with a recapitulation of what ensued? Suffice it to say,
that I collected all the arguments in my memory - and they were not a few ; -
and I presented to him that paper - the confession of Talbot, which proved your
innocence!"
    "Dearest girl!" exclaimed Markham, rapturously.
    "He did not refuse to read it," added Isabella;
"and at length, when I saw that I had made a profound impression on him, I
turned the conversation upon the momentary reverse of fortune which had plunged
him into a debtors' prison —"
    "Isabella!" cried Markham, in surprise.
    "And then I boldly declared my conviction that the
unknown friend who had released him - the anonymous individual who had thrown
open to him the gate leading to liberty - the nameless person, that had done so
generous a deed, and accomplished it in a manner as delicate as it was noble, -
was none other than Richard Markham!"
    The tone of the Italian maiden had become more and more
impassioned as she proceeded; and when she uttered the last words of the
foregoing sentence, she turned upon him on whose arm she leant, a countenance
glowing with animation, and radiant with gratitude and love.
    "Oh, Isabella! you told your father
 
that!
" cried Markham. "And
yet - you knew not —"
    "My suspicion amounted almost to a certainty,"
interrupted Isabella: "and now I doubt no longer. Oh! Richard - if ever
for one moment I had wavered in my love for you, - if ever an instant of
coldness, arising from worldly reflections, had intervened to make me repent my
solemn vows to you, - that one deed of yours - that noble sacrifice of your
property, made to release my revered parent from a gaol, - that - that atone
would have rendered my heart unalterably thine!"
    "Beloved girl - this moment is the happiest of my
life!" exclaimed Markham; and tears of joy filled his eyes, as he pressed
the maiden once more to his heart.
    "Yes, Richard," continued Isabella, after a long
pause; and now her splendid countenance was lighted up with an expression of
dignity and generous pride, and the timid, bashful maiden seemed changed into a
lady whose brow was encircled with a diadem; "yes, Richard, if ever I felt
that no deed nor act of mine shall separate us eternally - if ever I rejoiced
in the prospect of possessing wealth, and receiving lustre from my father's
princely rank —"
    "Isabella! " exclaimed Richard, dropping the arm
on which the Italian lady was leaning, and stepping back in the most profound
astonishment:
    " Isabella, what mean you?"
    "I mean," continued the signora, casting upon him
a glance of deep tenderness and noble pride; "I mean that henceforth,
Richard, I can have no secret from you, - that I must now disclose what has often
before trembled upon my tongue; a secret which my father would not, however, as
yet, have revealed to the English public generally, - the secret of his rank;
for he whom the world knows as the Count Alteroni, is Alberto, Prince of
Castelcicala!"
  
 
Strange
was the effect that this revelation produced upon the young man. He felt, as
if, when in a burning heat, a mighty volume of icy water had suddenly been
dashed over him: his head appeared to swim round - his sight grew dim - he
staggered, and would have fallen had not Isabella rushed towards him,
exclaiming, " Richard - dear Richard - do you not believe how much I love
you ?"
    Those words produced an instantaneous change within him :
those sweet syllables, uttered in the silvery tones of lovely woman's
tenderness - recalled him to himself.
    "Ah! Isabella," he exclaimed, mournfully "how
insuperable is the barrier which divides us
 
now!
"
    "And - if that barrier to which you allude ever
existed, was it less formidable when you were ignorant of the secret than it is
at present?" asked Isabella, tenderly.
    "It seems so to me," replied Richard. " Are
you not placed on an eminence to which I never can hope to reach? have I not
dared to lift my ambitious eyes towards a Princess - the daughter of one a who
will some day wear a sovereign crown? Oh!  now the delusion is gone - I am
awakened from a long dream! But, say - did your highness make this revelation
to-day, in order to extinguish my a adventurous aspirations at once and for
ever?"
    "Richard, you wrong me - cruelly wrong me!"
exclaimed Isabella, bursting into tears.
    "Forgive me - forgive me, sweetest, dearest girl!"
cried Markham. "I was mad - I raved - I knew not what I said —"
    "Richard, when we met here - once before - you doubted
my affection, and then you asked me to forgive you! How often will you put my
feelings to so cruel a test? how often will you renew those unjust
suspicions?"
    "O God! what have I done, that I should thus call tears
to your eyes, Isabella ? Forgive me, again - I say - forgive me: on my knees I
implore —"
    "No - no! I think no more of what you said,"
exclaimed Isabella. "Calm yourself for my sake!" - and she gazed so
tenderly up into his countenance, that he was reassured, and all his doubts and
fears vanished in a moment.
    "Yes, Isabella," he said : "I am now calm;
and you - you are an angel!"
    "A mere terrestrial one, Richard, I am afraid,"
returned the Princess, with a smile. "And now let me speak to you upon the
little matter of business to which I alluded in my note. After I had informed
my father that you were the generous unknown who had been the means of his
release from prison, he exclaimed,