The Lost Lady of Lone

by Emma Dorothy Eliza Nevitte Southworth

"Go on to the end; I will not interrupt you again. Oh, that I could wake from this night-mare!—or—expire in it! Go on and finish."

"My lady, while the two men were speaking, they came in sight of the woman who was waiting under the balcony. Then Mr. John Scott says: 'Hush! my girl will hear us.' And they hushed, but it was too late—she had heard them. Mr. John Scott came up to her in a hurry, and put a small but heavy bag in her hand, saying that she must take it and take care of it, and never let it go out of her possession, and that she must hurry back to Lone Station and catch the midnight express train back to London, and that he himself would follow her, and join her at home the next night."

"And all that, too, was proved—yes, proved by the mouths of two witnesses at the inquest, though they did not either of them recognize the man or the woman," moaned Salome.

"Mrs. John Scott returned to my house about breakfast time the next morning, my lady, bringing that bag with her, which I noticed she wouldn't let out of her sight, no, nor even out of her hand, while I was near her. She wouldn't answer any of my questions, or give me any satisfaction then, even so far as to tell me where she had been, or if she had seen Mr. John Scott. So I knew nothing until the next morning, when I got the Times. I don't in general care about reading the papers myself, but opened it that morning to see if there was anything in it about the grand wedding at Lone. And oh! My lady, I saw how the wedding had been stopped on account of—on account—of what happened to Sir Lemuel Levison that night, my lady, as I don't like to talk of it, or even t think of it. But when Mrs. John Scott rang her bell that morning, my lady, I took up the paper with her cup of tea, which she always took in bed. And oh, my lady, when she came to know what had happened at Lone, she went off into the very worst hysterics I ever saw. I was struck all of a heap! I couldn't imagine why she should take it so awfully to heart as that. But that's neither here nor there. I know now why she took it so to heart. In the midst of all the hubbub, Mr. John Scott returned. And she fairly flew at him! She said, among other bitter, things, that he would bring her to the gallows yet! And she charged him with what she had overheard. But somehow or other he laughed at her, and explained it all away to her satisfaction. He could always make her believe whatever he pleased. If he had told her the rainbow was only a few yards of striped Leamington ribbon, she would have believed him! He didn't stay more than an hour, and was off again in a hurry. We didn't see him again until the last of the week. It was the news of the coroner's verdict on the Lone murder case was telegraphed to London, when he came rushing in at the door and up the stairs like a mad-man. And in ten minutes he came rushing down stairs again and out of the street door like a madman, but he carried the heavy little bag off with him in his hand. And he has never been back since. But, from time to time, he wrote to her, and sent her money, and told her that business still kept him away. But, mind you, my lady, his letters were all without date or signature, and were drop letters, now from one London post-office, and now from another, so that she never knew where to address him. Not that she cared. As long as her money lasted she was, perfectly satisfied. She lived comfortably, and she amused herself, and often went to the play and took me with her, and all went merry again until yesterday, when, all on a sudden, the police made a descent on the house, and arrested Mrs. John Scott on a charge of being implicated in the robbery and murder at Castle Lone, and proceeded to search the house, where they found the watch-chain, snuff-box, and other valuable property belonging to the late Sir Lemuel Levison!"

"Great Heaven! they found these things in the house rented by—by—"

Salome could say no more, but ended with a groan that seemed to rend body and soul apart.

"They found the stolen jewels there, my lady. My unhappy mistress denied all knowledge of them, but her words availed her nothing. She was carried off to prison that same night. This morning she was taken before the sitting magistrate, and examined, and remanded to prison, until she can be carried back to Scotland for trial. Neither she nor I know at what hour she may be removed, or by what train she may be taken to Scotland. She may be gone now, for aught I know."

"Where is the poor creature now confined?" inquired Salome, in a dying voice.

"In the Westminster police station-house, my lady, if she has not been already removed. But I must tell your ladyship—your grace, I mean—how I happen to come to you now. I was at the West End this morning, my lady, and in returning to the city I passed St. George's Church, Hanover Square, and I saw the pageant of your wedding. And when I got back to Westminster and looked into the station-house to see my unfortunate mistress, and to help her mind often her own troubles, I told her about the wedding of the Duke of Hereward with the heiress of Sir Lemuel Levison, at St. George's Church, my lady. She went off into the most terrible fit of excitement I ever seen her in yet, and I have seen her in some considerable ones, now I do assure your ladyship. And in her raving and tearing, my lady, I first heerd that Mr. John Scott and the young Marquis of Arondelle and the Duke of Hereward was all one and the same gentleman, and he was the lawful husband of Rose Cameron. My lady, I thought her troubles had turned her head, and so I did not believe a word she said. And, my lady, I do not expect you to believe me without proof, any more than I believed her."

"Oh, Heaven of Heavens! I have the proof! I have the proof in the evidence of my own senses, too fatally discredited until now. But if you have further proof, give it me at once," groaned Salome.