Lucretia | Page 3

no exaggeration as to their
extent, no great departure from their details; the means employed, even
that which seems most far- fetched,--the instrument of the poisoned
ring,--have their foundation in literal facts. Nor have I much altered the
social position of the criminals, nor in the least overrated their
attainments and intelligence. In those more salient essentials which will
most, perhaps, provoke the Reader's incredulous wonder, I narrate a
history, not invent a fiction [These criminals were not, however, in
actual life, as in the novel, intimates and accomplices. Their crimes
were of similar character, effected by similar agencies, and committed
at dates which embrace their several careers of guilt within the same
period; but I have no authority to suppose that the one was known to
the other.]. All that Romance which our own time affords is not more
the romance than the philosophy of the time. Tragedy never quits the
world,--it surrounds us everywhere. We have but to look, wakeful and
vigilant, abroad, and from the age of Pelops to that of Borgia, the same
crimes, though under different garbs, will stalk on our paths. Each age
comprehends in itself specimens of every virtue and every vice which
has ever inspired our love or mowed our horror.
LONDON, November 1, 1846.
CONTENTS
PART THE FIRST
PROLOGUE TO PART THE FIRST
CHAPTER I
A Family Group II Lucretia III Conferences IV Guy's Oak V
Household Treason VI The Will VII The Engagement VIII The
Discovery IX A Soul without Hope X The Reconciliation between
Father and Son
EPILOGUE TO PART THE FIRST

PART THE SECOND
PROLOGUE TO PART THE SECOND
I The Coronation II Love at First Sight III Early Training for an
Upright Gentleman IV John Ardworth V The Weavers and the Woof
VI The Lawyer and the Body-snatcher VII The Rape of the Mattress
VIII Percival visits Lucretia IX The Rose beneath the Upas X The
Rattle of the Snake XI Love and Innocence XII Sudden Celebrity and
Patient Hope XIII The Loss of the Crossing XIV News from Grabman
XV Varieties XVI The Invitation to Laughton XVII The Waking of the
Serpent XVIII Retrospect XIX Mr. Grabman's Adventures XX More of
Mrs. Joplin XXI Beck's Discovery XXII The Tapestry Chamber XXIII
The Shades on the Dial XXIV Murder, towards his Design, moves like
a Ghost XXV The Messenger speeds XXVI The Spy flies XXVII
Lucretia regains her Son XXVIII The Lots vanish within the Urn
EPILOGUE TO PART THE SECOND

LUCRETIA; OR, THE CHILDREN OF NIGHT.

PART THE FIRST.
PROLOGUE TO PART THE FIRST.
In an apartment at Paris, one morning during the Reign of Terror, a
man, whose age might be somewhat under thirty, sat before a table
covered with papers, arranged and labelled with the methodical
precision of a mind fond of order and habituated to business. Behind
him rose a tall bookcase surmounted with a bust of Robespierre, and
the shelves were filled chiefly with works of a scientific character,
amongst which the greater number were on chemistry and medicine.
There were to be seen also many rare books on alchemy, the great
Italian historians, some English philosophical treatises, and a few
manuscripts in Arabic. The absence from this collection of the stormy

literature of the day seemed to denote that the owner was a quiet
student, living apart from the strife and passions of the Revolution.
This supposition was, however, disproved by certain papers on the
table, which were formally and laconically labelled "Reports on
Lyons," and by packets of letters in the handwritings of Robespierre
and Couthon. At one of the windows a young boy was earnestly
engaged in some occupation which appeared to excite the curiosity of
the person just described; for this last, after examining the child's
movements for a few moments with a silent scrutiny that betrayed but
little of the half-complacent, half-melancholy affection with which
busy man is apt to regard childhood, rose noiselessly from his seat,
approached the boy, and looked over his shoulder unobserved. In a
crevice of the wood by the window, a huge black spider had formed his
web; the child had just discovered another spider, and placed it in the
meshes: he was watching the result of his operations. The intrusive
spider stood motionless in the midst of the web, as if fascinated. The
rightful possessor was also quiescent; but a very fine ear might have
caught a low, humming sound, which probably augured no hospitable
intentions to the invader. Anon, the stranger insect seemed suddenly to
awake from its amaze; it evinced alarm, and turned to fly; the huge
spider darted forward; the boy uttered a chuckle of delight. The man's
pale lip curled into a sinister sneer, and he glided back to his seat.
There, leaning his face on his