« EelmineJätka »
he had hardly eaten, and that he had not slept for fix and thirty hours. The increased agitation of his mind, together with excessive fatigue, now made him sensible of personal uneasiness; he felt his blood inflamed, and his head giddy, while, though he was not himself conscious of it, his looks were wild, his eyes bloodshot, and his whole appearance (an appearance altogether strange to him) such as a man falls into who has passed nights and days at the gaming table and the tavern.
He began, however, to suspect, that if he did not allow himself a few hours repose, he should be reduced to a state in which it might not be in his power to seek Medora or her mother; he was therefore returning to his lodgings, when in crossing towards Picadilly from the Haymarket, he saw in an hackney coach (which was for a moment in an embarrassment between some coal carts) Me. dora fitting in conversation, and, as it appeared, unreluctant conversation, with
the well looking middle aged gentle
He even saw that fhe smiled, yet it was a faint and melancholy smile, while he hung upon her every word with an expression of the fondest delight. This was not to be enduredRegardless, indeed not thinking of consequences, Delmont rushed forward ; but at that moment the impediment being withdrawn, the coachman whipped his horses on, and as if to recover the time he had loft, drove with unusual speed up Swallow Street.
Delmont, in all the haste he could make, followed it-But it was now hidden from him by other coaches, and he was now impeded by a cart unloaded on the pavement.
The people who saw him imagined he was either fome unfortunate young man pursued by a bailiff, or one who had just escaped from the keepers of a madhouse. Delmont heeded not what they thought; he did not even see them, but with eyes eagerly straining after the coach, he crossed in pursuit of
it Oxford Street, and at last saw it stop at the door of a private house in Portland Street. He waited in, breathless agitation a moment. He beheld Sir Harry Richmond get out and affift Medora, and they went into the house together—The black servant took a parcel that was in the coach, paid the coachman, and was going to shut the door, when Delmont, without asking or answering any questions, pushed by him, and as, by the door of the parlour being open, he saw that those he fought were not there, he rushed up stairs, and threw open the drawing room door-He saw what completed his astonishment, indignation-Medora fitting on the knee of her companion, his arm round her waist, and her head declined on his shoulder.
“ Monster! villain! seducer!" exclaimed Delmont, who stepped on, as if he meant to wreck his vengeance in another manner-when Medora started from her feat, and threw herfelf almost speechless into his arms, faintly attempting to utter fome words which he could not hear.
The stranger in the mean time, after a very short pause, seemed to guess who Delmont was, and advanced towards him. « Mr. Delmont,” said he, holding out his hand towards him" Is it not Mr. Delmont?"
“ Dare you ask ?" exclaimed the enraged Delmont.
“ Oh! God !” cried Medora—“ what do you mean, my dear friend ! it is my father!”
“ Your father!"
Delmont felt the revulsion of his blood to be so violent, that he was compelled to sit down, still holding Medora's hand
“Your father!" repeated he—“ Oh! Sir, what have I not endured of agony within these few moments--but Medora is fafe, safe in your protection."
« And shall never leave it, Delmont," cried Glenmorris, embracing them both with great emotion, “but for yours
Yes, my dear friend, Medora is restored to us, the same innocent, the same lovely and admirable creature ; but her mother!”
“What of her ?" asked Delmont, ea. gerly, “what of Mrs. Glenmorris?"
“Alas, we know nothing,” said Me. dora, sobbing-“ We have not yet been able to trace her, my father ..
Shę paused, not having the power to proceed-Delmont,” cried Glenmorris, his voice trembling; " where can she be? By what unaccountable accident have I lost my
wife? Think what I have suffered even in so unexpectedly regaining my daughter, to know that of her mother nothing has been heard since their feparation. Before I sat out for the country I had learned that no one in London knew where the was; all they were certain of being, that the and her daughter were separated, and nothing known of either of them."
Delmont put up his hand to his head