"You must get down here, Miss," he said, in a dialect and tone which denoted him to be a foreigner.
Ellen saw at a glance that he was a tall elderly man, with a dark olive complexion, piercing black eyes, but by no means an unpleasant expression of countenance. He was dressed in black, and wore a large cloak hanging loosely over his shoulders.
"Get down here!" repeated Ellen. "And why? where am I? who are you? Speak."
"No harm will happen to you, Miss," replied the tall stranger. "A gentleman is waiting in this house to see you."
"A gentleman!" cried Ellen. "Ah! can it be Mr. Greenwood?"
"It is, Miss: you need fear nothing."
Ellen was naturally of a courageous disposition; and the circumstances of her life had tended to strengthen her mind. It instantly struck her that she was in the power of her persecutor's myrmidons, and that resistance against them was calculated to produce effects much less beneficial for her than those which remonstrance and firmness might lead to with their employer.
She accordingly accompanied the tall stranger into the house.
But what was the astonishment of the poor creature when she encountered in the hall the very old hag whom she had known in the court in Goldenlane, and who had originally introduced her to the embraces of Mr. Greenwood!
The horrible wrinkled wretch grinned significantly, at she conducted Ellen into a parlour very neatly furnished, and where a cheerful fire was burning in the grate.
Meantime the tall stranger issued forth again, and ordered the driver of the cab in which Ellen had arrived to await further instructions. He then accosted the cadaverous looking man who had accompanied him in the second cab, and who was now loitering about in front of the house.
"Tidkins," said he, "we do not require your services any further. The young lady made no resistance, and consequently there has been no need for the exercise of your strong arm. Here is your reward. You can return to London in the same cab that brought you hither."
"Thank you, my friend," exclaimed the Resurrection Man. "Your master knows my address, the next time he requires my services. Good night."
"Good night," said the tall man: and when he had seen the second cab depart, he re-entered the house.
In the hall he met Mr. Greenwood.
"Well, Filippo—all right, eh?" said this gentleman, in a whisper.
"All right, sir. We managed it without violence; and the lady is in your power."
"Ah! I thought you would do the business genteelly for me. Lafleur is a faithful fellow, and would do any thing to serve me; but he is clumsy and awkward in an intrigue of this kind. No one can manage these little matters so well as a foreigner. A Frenchman is clever—but an Italian incomparable."
"Thank you, sir, for the compliment," said Filippo, with a low bow.
"Oh! it is no compliment," returned Greenwood. "Three or four little things that I have entrusted to you since you have been in my service, were all admirably managed so far as you were concerned; and though they every one failed afterwards, yet it was no fault of yours. I am well aware of that."
The Italian bowed.
"And now I must present myself to this haughty beauty," said Greenwood.
"Am I to dismiss the vehicle which brought her hither, sir?" demanded Filippo.
"Yes: you will stay here to-night."
The Italian valet bowed once more, and returned to the driver of the vehicle that brought Ellen thither.
"My good fellow," said Filippo, in a hurried tone, "here is your money for the service rendered up to this moment. Are you now disposed to earn five guineas in addition?"
"Certainly, sir," replied the man.
"Then drive to the bend in the road yonder," continued Filippo. "There you will find a large barn, belonging to my master's property here. You can house your horse and cab comfortably there. But do not unharness the animal. There is a pond close by; and you will find a bucket in the barn. There is also hay for your horse. Wait there patiently till I come to you."
The cabman signified acquiescence; and Filippo returned to the house.
Meantime the old hag, as before stated, had conducted Ellen to a parlour, where the young lady threw herself upon a sofa, her mind and body being alike fatigued with the events and anxieties of the evening.
"We meet again, Miss," said the old woman, lingering near the table, on which refreshments of several luxurious kinds were placed. "You came no more to visit me in the court; and yet I watched from a distance the brilliancy of your career. Ah! what fine things—what fine things I have introduced you to, since first I knew you."
"If you wish to serve me," said Ellen, "help me away from this place, and I will recompense you largely."
"For every guinea that you would give me to let you go, I shall receive two for keeping you in safe custody," returned the hag.
"Name the price that you are to have from your employer," cried Ellen; "and I will double it."
"That you cannot do. Miss. Besides, have I not your interests to consider? Do I not know what is good for you? I tell you that you may become a great lady—ride in a magnificent carriage—have fine clothes and sparkling jewels—and never know again what toil is. I should not be so squeamish if I were you."
"Silence, wretch!" cried Ellen, exasperated more at the cool language of calculation in which the old woman spoke, than with the prospects she held out and the arguments she used.
"Ah! Miss," resumed the hag, nothing discomfited, "I am not annoyed with you, for the harsh way in which you speak to me. I have seen too much of your stubborn beauties in my life to be abashed with a word. Lack-a-day! they all yield in time—they all yield in time!"
And the old hag shook her head seriously, as if she had arrived at some great moral conclusion.
Ellen paid no attention to her.
"Ah! Miss," continued the hag, "I was once young like you—and as beautiful too, wrinkled and tanned as I now appear. But I was not such a fool to my own interests as you. I lived luxuriously for many, many years—God knows how many—I can't count them now—I don't like to think of those happy times. I ought to have saved money—much money; but I frittered it all away as quick as I got it. Now, do you take my advice: accept Mr. Greenwood's offers;—he is a handsome man, and pays like a prince."
The argument of the old hag was cut short by the entrance of the individual of whom she was just speaking.
She left the room; and Ellen was now alone with Greenwood.
"Sir, are you the author of this cowardly outrage which has been perpetrated upon me?" demanded Ellen, rising from the sofa, and speaking in a firm but cold tone.
"Call it not an outrage, dearest Ellen—"
"It is nothing else, sir; and if you have one spark of honour left—one feeling of respect for the mother of your child," added Miss Monroe, sinking her voice, "you will allow me to depart without delay. On that condition I will forget all that has transpired this evening."
"My dear girl, you cannot think that I have taken all this trouble to be thwarted by a trifling obstacle at the end, or that I have merely had you brought hither to have the pleasure of letting you depart again after one minute's conversation. No, Ellen: listen to me! I have conceived a deep—profound—a fervent affection for you——"
"Cease this libertine's jargon, Mr. Greenwood," interrupted Ellen. "You must know that your sophistry cannot deceive me as it has done so many—many others."
"Then in