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CHAPTER XXXII.

At two o'clock an attendant stole on tiptoe to the strong-room, "unlocked the -door, and peeped cautiously in. Seeing the dangerous maniac quiet, he entered with a plate of lukewarm beef and potatoes, and told him bluntly to eat. The crushed one said he could not eat. 'You must/ Baid the man. ' Eat T Said Alfred ; *ot what do yon think I am made ! Pray put it down and listen to mft. I'll give you a hundred pounds to let me out of this place ; two hundred ; three/ A coarse laugh greeted this proposal. 1 You might as well have made it a thousand while you was about it/ * So 1 will/ said Alfred, eagerly, * and thank you on my knees besides. Ah, I see you don't believe I have money. I give you my honour I have ten thousand pounds : it was settled on me by my grandfather, and I came of age last week.' 'Oh, that's like enough/ said the man carelessly. ' Well, you are green, Do you think them as sent you here will let you spend your money ? No, your money is theirs now/ And he sat down with the plate on fais knee and began to cut the meat in -small pieces ; while his careless words entered Alfred's heart, and gave him *uch a glioinse of sinister motives and dark acts to come as set him shuddering. ' Come, none o' that/ said the man, suspecting this shudder ; he thought it was the prologue to some desperate act ; for all a chained madman does is read upon this plan ; his terror passes for rage, his very sob3 for snarls. 1 Oh, be honest with me/ said Alfred imploringly : 'do you think it is to steal mv money the wretch has stole my liberty V ' What wretch V ' My father.' ' I know nothing about it/ said the man sullenly : * in course there's mostly money behind, when young gents like you come to be took care of. But you mustn't go thinking of that, or you'll •excite yourself again ; come, you eat your vittles like a Christian, "and no more about it.' ' Leave it, that is a good fellow ; and then I'll try and eat a little by-and-by. But my grief is great— oh Julia ! ■Julia ! — what shall Ido ? And I-am not used to eat at this time. Will you, my good fellow V * Well I will, novv you behave like a gentleman/ said the man. Then Alfred coaxed him to take off : the handcuffs. He refused, but ended by doing- it; and so left him. Four more leaden hours rolled by, "and then this same attendant (his name whs Brown) brought him a cup of tea. It was welcome to his parched throat ; he drank it, and ate a mouthful of the meat to please the man, and even asked for some more tea. At eight four keepers came into his room, undressed him, compelled him to make his toilette, &c, before them, which put him to shame — being a gentleman — aimost as much as it would a woman : they then hobbled him, and fastened his ankles to the bed, and put his hands into muffles,' but did not confine his body ; because they had lost a lucrative lodger only a month ago, throttled at night in a straight-waist-coat. Alfred lay in this plight, and compared with anguish unspeakable his joyful anticipations of this night with the strange and cruel reality. *My wedding night ! my wedding night !' he cried aloud, and burst into a passion of grief. By-and-by he consoled himself a little with the hope that he could not long be incarcerated as a madman, being sane ; and his good wit told him j his only chance was calmness. He would go to sleep and recover composure to bear his wrongs with dignity, ] and quietly baffle his enemies. Just as he was dropping off he felt something crawl over his face. Instinctively he made a violent motion to put his hands up. Both hands were confined, he could not move them. He bounded, he flung, he writhed. His little persecutors were quiet a moment, but the next they began again : in vain he rolled and writhed, and shuddered with loathing inexpressible. They crawled, they smelt, they bit. Many a poor soul these little wretches bad distracted with the very sleepless- ; ness the madhouse professed to cure, not create. In conjunction with the opiates, the confinement and the gloom of Silverton House, they had driven many a feeble mind across the line that divides the weak and nervous from the unsound. When he found that there was no help, Alfred clenched his teeth and bore it:—* Bite on, ye little wretches/ he said : * bite on, and divert my mind fqbm deeper stings than yours — if you can.' And they did ; a little. Thus passed the night in mental agony, and bodily irritation and disgust. At daybreak the feasters on his flesh retired, and utterly worn out and exhausted he sank into a deep sleep. At half-past seven the head keepei and three more came in, and made hinr dress before them. They handcuffei him, and. took him down to breakfas in the noisy ward * } set him down on i little bench by the wall like a naughty

boy, and ordered a dangerous maniac tc feed him. The dangerous maniac obeyed, and went and sat beside Alfred with a basin of thick gruel and a great wooden spoon. He shovelled the gruel down his charge's throat mighty superciliously from the very first ; and presently, falling into some favourite train of thought, he fixed his eye on vacancy and handed the spoonfuls over his left shoulder with such rapidity and recklessness that it was more like sowing than feeding. Alfred cried out, * Quarter ! I can't eat quite as fast as that, old fellow.' Something in his tone struck the maniac -; he looked at Alfred full ; Alfred looked at him in ratutn, and smiled kindly but sadly. * Hallo !' cried the maniac. ' What's up now V said a keeper fiercely. ' Why this man is sane. As sane as Tam.' At this there was a hoarse laugh. ' Saner/ persisted the maniac ; e for I am a little queer at times you know.' 1 And no mistake, Jemmy. Now what makes you think he is sane V * Looked me straight in the face, and smiled at me. 1 1 Oh, that is your test, is it V ' Yes it is " You try it on any of those mad beggars ana see if they can stand it.' ' Who invented gunpowder V said one of the insulted persons, looking as sly and malicious as a magpie going" to steal. Jemmy exploded directly : * I did, yo rascal, ye liar, ye vogue, ye Baconian !' and going higher, and higher, and higher in this strain, was verv soon handcuffed with Alfred's handcuffs, and seated on Alfred's bench and tied to two rings in the wall. On this his martial ardour went down to zero : ' Here is treatment, sir/ said he piteously to Alfred. ' I see you are a gentleman ; now look at this. All spite and jealousy because I invented that invaluable substance, which has done so much to prolong human life and alleviate human misery.' Alfred was now ordered to feed Jemmy ; which he did : so quickly were their parts inverted. Directlv after breakfast Alfred demanded to see the proprietor of the a&ylurn. Answer : Doesn't live here. The Doctor then. Oh, he has not come. This monstrosity irritated Alfred: 1 Well, then,' said he, ' whoever it is that rules this den of thieves, when those two are out of it ' ' T rule in Mr Baker's absence/ said the head keeper, ' and I'll teach you manners, you young blackguard. Handcuff him.' Tn five minutes Alfred was handcuffed and flung into a padded room. 4 Stay there till you know how to speak to your betters? said the head keeper Alfred walked up and down grinding his teeth with rage for five long hours. Just before dinner Brown caiie and took him into a parlour, where Mrs Archbold was seated writing. Brown retired. She finished what she was doing, and kept Alfred standing like 9 schoolboy going to be lectured. At last she said, * I have sent for you to give you a piece of advice : it is to try and make friends with the attendants. ' *Me make friends wi T h the scoundrels ! I thirst for their lives. Oh, madam, I fear I shall kill somebody here.' ' Foolish boy ; they are too strong for you. Your worst enemies could wish nothing worse for you than that you should provoke them? In saying these words she was so much more kind and womanly that Alfred conceived hopes, and burse out, * Oh, madam, you are human then ; you seem to nity me , prav give me pen and paper, and let m^ write to my friends to get me out of this terrible place ; do not refuse me ' Mrs Archbold resumed her distant manner without apparent effort : she said nothing-, but she placed writing materials before him. She then left the room, and locked him in. He wrote a few hasty ardent words to Julia, telling her how he had been entrapped, but not a word about his sufferings — he was too generous to give her needless pain — and a line to Edward, imploring him to come at once with a lawyer and an honest physician, and liberate him. Mrs Archbold returned soon after, and he asked her if she would lend him sealing-wax: 'I dare not trust to an envelope in such a place as this/ said he. She lent him sealing-wax. ' But how am I to post it V said he. ' Easily : there is a box in the house \ I will show you/ She took him and showed him the box : he put his letters into it, and in the ardour of his gratitude kissed hei hand : she winced a little and said. ' Mind, this is not by my advice ; ] would never tell my friends I had beer in a madhouse ; oh, never. I would be calm, make friends with the servants — they are the real masters — and never le' a creature know where I had been/ ' Oh, you don't know my Julia/ sak Alfred ; * she will never desert me never think the worse of me because 1 have been entrapped illegally into i madhouse/ * Illegally, Mr Hardie! you deceivi yourself; Mr Baker told me the orde was signed by a relation, and the certi ficates by first- rate lunacy doctors/

) ' What on earth has that to do with it, madam, when I am as sane as yoi I are?' . i •Tt has everything to do with it i Mr Baker could be punished for confining- a madman in his house without an order and two certificates ; but he couldn't for confining a sane person under an order and two certificates.' Alfred could not believe this, but she convinced him that it was so. Then he began to fear he should be imprisoned for years : he turned pale and looked at her so piteously, that to soothe him she told him sane people were never kept in asylums now ; they only used to be. * How can they ? ' said she. The London asylums are visited four times a year by the commissioners, and the country asylums six times, twice by the commissioners, and four times by the justices. We shall be inspected this week or next ; and then you can speak to the justices; mind be calm; say it is a mistake ; offer testimony ; and ask either to be discharged at once or to have a commission of lunacy sit on you ; ten to one your friends will not face public proceedings : but you must begin at the foundation, by making the servants friendly — and by — being calm.' She then fixed her large grey *ye on him and said, : Now if I let you dine with me and the firstclass patients, will you pledge me your honour to "be calm ; " and not attempt to escape?' Alfred hesitated at that. Her eve dissected his character all the time. * I promise," said he at last with a deep sigh. " May I sit by you 1 There is 'something so repugnant in the very idea of mad people.' ' Try and remember it is their misfortune not their crime,' said Mrs Arohbold, just like a matronly sister admonishing a brother from school. She then whistled in a whisper for Brown, who was lurking about unseen all the time. He emerged and walked about with Alfred, and, by-and-by looking down from a corridor, they saw Mrs Archbold driving the secondclass women before her to dinnei* like a ftock of animals. Whenever one stopped to look at anything, or try and gossip, the philanthropise Archbold went ixt her just like a shepherd's dog at a refractory sheep, caught her by the shoulders, and drove her squeakingheadlong. At dinner Alfred was so fortunate as to sit opposite a gentleman, who nodded and grinned at him all dinner with a horrible leer. He could not, however, enjoy this to the full for a little distraction at. his elbow : his right hand neighbour kept forking pieces out of bis plate and substituting others from his own ; there was even a tendency to giistle in the latter. Alfred remonstrated gently at fii'st ; the gentleman forbore a minute, then recommenced ; Alfred laid a hand very quietly on his wrist, and put it back. Mrs Arch hold's quick eye surprised his gesture : ' What is the matter tuere ? ' said she. ' Oh, nothing serious, madam/ replied Alfred ; ' only this gentlemen does me the honour to prefer the contents of my plate to his own.' 'Mr Cooper!' said the Archbold sternly. Cooper, the head keeper pounced on the offender, seized him roughly by the collar, dragged him from the table, knocking his chair down, and bundled him out of the room with ignominy and fracas, in spite of a remonstrance from Alfred, 'Oh, don't he so rough with the poor man.' Then the novice laid down his knife and fork, and ate no more. ' I am grieved at my own ill nature in complaining of such a trifle/ said he when all was quiet. The company stared considerably at this remark ; it seemed to them a most morbid perversion of sensibility ; for the deranged, thin-skinned beyond conception in their own persons, and alive to the shadow of the shade of a wrong, are stoically inditferent to the woes of others. Though Alfred was quiet as a lamb all day, the attendents returned him to the padded room, at night, because he had been thf-re last night ; they only fastened one ankle to thp bed-post : so he encountered his Lilliputians on tolerably fair terms — numbers exempted ; they swarmed. Unable to sleep, ho put out his hand and groped for his clothes. But they were outside the door according to rule. Day broke at last : and he took his breakfast quietly with the first -class patients. It consisted of cool tea in small basins instead of cups, and table-spoons instead of tea-spoons ; and thick slices of stale bread thinly buttered. A few patients had gr lei or porridge instead of tea. Alfred sat. in the first-class patients' room and counted the minutes and the hours till Edward should come, After dinner he counted the hours til tea-time. Nobody came; and he wen to bed in such grief and disappointmen' as some men live to eighty withou ever knowing. Bub when two o'clock came next day and no Edward, and no reply, then th< distress of his soul deepened. He im plored Mrs Archbold to teli him wha was the cause. She shook her hea< and said gravely, it was but too com mon ; a man's nearest and dearest war very apt to hold aloof, from him th moment he was put into an asylum Here an old lady put in her word *Ah sir you must not hope to hea irom anybody in this place. Whj I have been two yeaTs writing an

) writing, and can't get a line from my i own daughter. To be sure she is a fine lady now : but it was her poor neglected . mother that pinched and pinched to - give her a good education, and that is t how she caught a good husband. Bnt j it's my belief the post in our hall isn't a i post : but only a box ; and I think it is contrived so as the letters fall down > a pipe into that Baker's hands, and so then when the postman comes ■' > The Archbold bent her bushy brows i on this chatty personage. tße quiet, i Mrs Dent ; you are talking nonsense, i and exciting yourself : you know vou are not to speak on that topic. Take care.' ; i The poor old women was shut up like a knife ; for the Archbold had a i way of addressing her own sex *hat crushed them. The change was almost coramically sudden to the mellow tones in which she addressed Alfred the very next moment, on the very same subject : * Mr Baker, I believe, sees the letters : and, where our poor patients (with a glance at Dent) write in such a way as to wound and perhaps terrify those who are in reality their best friends, they are not always sent. But I conclude your letters have gone. If you feel y t ou can be calm, why not ask Mr Baker % He is in the house now ; for a wonder.' Alfred promised to be calm ; and she got him an interview with Mr Baker. He was a full-blown pawnbroker of Silverton town, whom the legislature, with that keen knowledge of human nature which marks the British senate, permitted, and still permits, to speculate in Insanity', There are. certain formulae in these quiet retreats, which naturally impose upon greenhorns such as Alfred certainly was, and some visiting justices and lunacy commissioners would seem to be. Baker had been a lodging-house keeper for' certified people many years, and knew all the formulae : some call them dodges : but these must surely be vulgar mind?. Baker worked " the see-saw formula :" ' Letters, young gentlemen V said he: "they are not io my department. Thfly go into the surgery, and are passed by the doctor, except those he examines and orders to be detained.' Alfred demanded the doctor. cHe is gone,' was the reply. (Formula.) Alfred found it as hard to be calm, as some people find it easy to say that word over the wronga of others. The next day, but not till the afternoon, he caught the doctor : 'My letters ! Surely, sir, you have not been so cruel as to intercept them V « I intercept no letters,' said the doctor, as if scandalised at the very idea. ' i see who writes them, and hand them to Mr Baker, with now and then a remark. If any are detained, the responsibility rests with him.' ' He says it rests with you.' ' You muse huve misunderstood him.' 4 Not at all, sir. One thing is clear ; my letters have been stolen either by him or you ; and I will know which/The doctor parripd with a formula. { You are excited, Mr Hardie. Be calm, sir, be calm : or you will be here all the longer.' All Alfred obtained by this in-erview was a powerful opiate. The head keeper brought it him in bed. He declined to take it. The man whistled, and the rtfom filled with keepers. * Now,' said Cooper. * down with it, or you'll have to oh drenched with this .cow horn.' 1 You had better take it, sir/ said Brown ; ' the doctor has ordered it you.' « The doctor ? Well, let me see the doctor about it.' i He is gone.' ' Bte never ordered it me,' said Alfred. Then fixing his eyes sternly on Cooper, ' You miscreants, you want to poison me. No, I will not take it. Murder f Then ensued a struggle, on which I draw a veil : but numbers won the day, with the help of handcuffs and a cowhorn. Brown went and told Mrs Archbold, and what Alfrpd had said. ' Don't be alarmed,' said that strongmindpd lady : * it is only one of the old fool's composing draughts.' About midnight Alfred was seized with a violent headache and fever : towards morning he was light-headed, and Brown found him loud and incoherent J only he returned often to an s expression Mr Brown had never heard ; before — I ' Justifiable parricide. Justifiable i parricide. Justifiable parricide.' ' Most people dislike new phrases. ' Brown ran to consult Mrs Archbold I about this one. After the delay in--5 separable from her sex she came in a s morning wrapper ; and they found • Alfred leaning over the bed and bleed--1 ing violently at the nose. They were t a good deal alarmed, and tried to stop t it : but Alfred was quite sensible now, t and told th^m- it was doing him good : ' I can manage to see now/ he said i , ' a little while ago I was blind with the b poison.' They unstrapped his ankle and made t him comfortable, and Mrs Archbold d sent Brown for a cup of strong coffee -- and a glass of brandy. He tossed them e off, and soon after fell into a deep sleep e that lasted, till tea-time. This sleep the i. poor doctor ascribed to the sedative I. effect of his opiate. It was the natural ir exhaustion consequent on the tnorbid jt excitement caused by his cursed opiate, d * Brown/ said Mrs Anshbokf, '-* if Dr

Bailey prescribes again let me know. He shan't square this patient with his certificates, whilst I am here,' This was a shrewed, but uncharitable, speech o'f hers. Dr Bailey was not such a villain as that. He Was a less depraved, and more dangerous, animal : he was a fool. The farrago be had administered would have done an excited maniac no good of course, but no great harm. Ir was dangerous to a sane man : and Alfred to the naked eye was a sane man. But then Bailey had no naked eye left : be had been twenty years an I M.D. The certificates of Wycherly and Speers were the green spectacles he wore— very green ones— -whenever he looked at Alfred Hardie. Perhaps in time he will forget those certificates, and, on his spectacle dropping off, he will see Alfred is sane. If he does, he will publish him as one of his most remarkable cures. Meanwhile the whole treatment of this ill-starred youag gentleman gravitated towards insanity. The inner mind was exasperated by barefaced injustice and oppression ; above all, by his letters being stopped ; for that convinced him both Baker and Bailey, with their see-saw evasions, knew he was sane, and dreaded a visit from honest, understanding men. On the eighth day Alfred succeeded at last in an object he had steadily pursued for some time : he caught the two see-saw humbugs together. ' Now,' said he, ' you say he intercepts my letters ; and he says it is you who do it." Which is the truth V They were staggered, and he followed up his advantage : ' Look me in the face, gentlemen/ said he. ' Can you pretend you do not know I am sane ? Ah, you turn your beads away. You can only tell this bare-taced lie behind my back. Do you believe in God, and in a judgment to come ? Then, if you cannot release me, at least don't be such scoundrels as to stop my letters, and so swindle me out of a fair trial, an open, public trial.' The doctor parried with a formula. ' Publicity would be the greatest misfortune that could befal you. Pray be calm.' Now, an asylum is a place not entirely exempt from prejudices : and one of them is, that any sort of appeal to God Almighty is a sign or else forerunner of maniacal excitement. And the patient who appealed to God above a whisper in Silverton Grove House used to get soothed directly. The tranquilising influences employed were morphia, croton oil, or a blister. The keeper came to Alfred in his room. ' Doctor has ordered a blister. ' What for ? Send for him directly,' * Fie is gone.' This way of ordering torture, and then cooly going, irritated Alfred beyond endurance. Though he knew he should soon be powerless, he showed fight ; made his mark as usual on a couple of his zealous attendants ; but not having room to work was soon overpowered, hobbled, and handcuffed : then they cut off his hair, and put a large blister on the top of his head. The obstinate brute declined to go mad. They began to resppct him for this tenacity of purpose ; a decent bedroom was allotted him ; his portmanteau and bag were brought him, and he was let walk every day on the lawn with a keeper, only there were no ladders left about, and the trap-door was locked \ i.e. the iron gate. On one of these occasions he heard the gatekeeper whistle three times consecutively ; his attendant followed suit, and hurried Alfred into the house, which soon rang with treble signals, ( What is it t inquired Alfred. * The visiting justices are in sight : go into your room, please.' ' Yes, I'll go," said Alfred, affectingcheerful compliance, and the man ran off The whole house was in a furious bustle. All the hobbles, and chains, and instruments of restraint, were hastily collected and bundled out of sight, and clean sheets were being put on many a filthy bed whose occupant had never slept in sheets since he came there, when two justices arrived and were shown into tue drawing-room. During the few minutes they were detained there by Mrs Archbold, who was mistress of her whole business, quite a new face was put on everythingand everybody ; ancient cobwebs fell ; soap and water explored unwonted territories : the harshest attendants began practising pleasant looks and kind words on the patients, to get into the way of it, so that it might not Come too abrupt and startle the patients visibly under the visitors' eyes : something like actors working up a factitious sentiment at the wing for the public display* or like a racehorse's preliminary canter. Alfred's heart beat with joy inexpressible. He had only to keep calm, and this was his last day at Silverton Grove. The first thing he did was to make a cnreful toilet.The stinginess of relations, and the greed of madhouse proprietors, make many a patient look ten times madder than be is, by means of dress. Clothes wear out in an asylum* and are not always taken off, though Agriculture has long and. justly clainipd them for her own. And when it is no longer . possible to refuse the -Reverend Mad . Tom or Crazy Jane some new raiment, , then consanguineous rouoificietice does 1 ' not go to Poole or Elise, but oftener \a

paternal or maternal wardrobes, and even to the ancestral chest, the old oak one, singing : : ' Poor things, they are out of the world : what need 4<>r them to be in the fashion !' (Formula) This arrangement keeps the bump of self-esteem down, especially in women, and so co-operates with many other little arrangements to perpetuate the lodger. Silverton Grove in particular was supplied with the grotesque in dress from an inexhaustible source. Whenever money was sent Bakur to buv a patient a suit, ho went from his lunacy shop to his pawnbroker's, dived headlong into unredeemed pledges> dressed his patient as gentlemen are dressed to reside in cherry-trees : and pocketed five hundred per cent, on the double transaction. Now Alfred had already observed that many of the patients looked madder than they were— thanks to short trousers and petticoats, holey gloves, ear- cutting 1 shirt-collars, frilled bosoms, shoes made for> and declined by, the very infantry : coats short in the waist, and long in the sleeves, coalscunle bonnets, and grand-maternal caps. So he made his toilet with care, and put his be3t hat on to hide his shaven crown. He then kept his door ajar, and waited for a chance of speaking to the justices. One soon came ; a portly old gentleman, with a rubicund face and honest eyo, walked slowly along the corridor, looking as wise as he could, cringed on by Cooper and Dr. Bailey j the latter had arrived post haste, and Baker had been sent for. Alfred came out, touched his hat respectfully, and begged a private interview with the magistrate. The old gentleman bowed politely, for Alfred's dress, address, and countenance, left no J suspicion of insanity possible in an uni prejudiced mind. But the doctor whispered in his ear, * Take care, sir. Dangerous !' Now this is one of the most effective of the formulas in a private asylum. How can an inexperienced stranger know for certain that such a statement is a falsehood ? and even the just do not love justice — to others— quite so well as they love their own skins. So Squire Tollett very naturally declined a private interview with Alfred > and even drew back a step, and felt uneasv at being so near him. Alfred implored him not to be imposed upon. lAn honest man does not whisper,' said he. c Do not let him poison your mind against me ; on my honour lam as sane as you are, and he knows it. Pray, pray use your own eyes, and ears sir, and give yourself a chance of discovering 1 the truth in this stronghold of lies.' • Don't excite yourself, Mr Hardie,' put in the doctor, parentally* (Formula.) ' Don't you interrupt me, doctor ; I [am as quiet as you are. Calmer 5 for, see, you are pale at this moment; that is with fear that your wickedness in detaining a sane man here is going lo be exposed. Oh, sir,' said he* turning to the justice, 'fear no violence from me, not even angry words ; ray misery is too deep for irritation, or excitement. I am an Oxford man, sir, a prize man, an Ireland scholar. But, unfortunately for me, my mother left me ten thousand pounds^ and a heart. I love a lady whose name I will not pollute by mentioning it in this den of thiives. My father is the well-known banker, bankI rupt, and cheat, of Bafldngton. He has wasted his own money, and now covets his neighbour's and his son's. He had me entrapped here on my wedding-day, to get hold of my money, aud rob me of her I love. I appeal to you, sir, to discharge me ; or, if you have not so much confidence in your own judgment as to do that, then I demand a commission of lunacy, and a public inquiry.* Dr Bailey said, 'That would be a most undesirable exposure, both to yourself and your friends.' (Formula.) ' It is only the guilty who fear the light, sir,' was the prompt reply. Mr Tollett said he thought the patient had a legal right to a commission of lunacy if there was property, and he took a note of the application. He then asked Alfred if he had any complaint to make of the food, the beds, or the attendants. ' Sir,' said Alfred, * I leave . those complaints to the insane ones : with me . the gigantic wrong drives out the petty worries. I cannot feel my stings for my deep wound. "< Oh, then, you admit you are not treated unkindly here V ' I admit nothing of the kind, sir. I merely decline to encumber your memory with petty injuries, when you are good enough to inquire into a monstrous one.' * Now that is very sensible and considerate,' said Mr Tollett. • I will set you, sir, again before we !eave. ; With this promise Alfred was obligee to be content. He retired respectfully and the justice said, ' He seems as sant as I am.' I?be doctor smiled. The justice observed it, and not aware thai this smile was a formula) as much so ai a prize-fighter's or a ballet-dancer's began to doubt a little* he reflected s moment* then asked who had signed th< certificates.' f Dr Wycherley for one.' 'Df Wycherley ? ' that is a I gre'a authority.' , ' One of the greatest in the country. • Ob, then oae would think he mus i be mow or less deranged.'

i * Dangerously so at times. But in : his- lucid in'ervals you never saw a more quiet gentlemanly creature.' (For- ! muln.) * 'HniTsad'!* l Vevy. tie is rny most interesting puient (formula), though terribly violent at rimes; Would you Hkn to 1 see the medical journal about him V 'Yes* by-and-by.' The inspection then continued : the inspector admired the clean sheets that covered rhe beds, all «f them dirty, some filthy': and asked the more reasonable patients to speak freely and say if they had any complaint to make-. This question being- with the usuai sagacity of public inspectors put in the presence of Coopef and the doctor, who stuck to Tollptt like wax, the mud people all declared they were kindly treated : the reason they were so unanimous was this : they knew by experience that, if they told the truth> the justice could not at once remedy their discomforts, whereas the keepers, tho very moment the justices left the house, woiild knock them down, beat them, shake them-, strait-jacket them* and starve them : and the doCtoi* less . merciful, would doctor theml So they shook in their shoes, and vownd they were very comfortable in Siiverton Grove. Thus, in latter days, certain Commissioners of Lunacy inspecting;; Accomb House;, extracted nothing from Mtrs Turner, but that she was happy and comfortable under the benignant sway of Metcalf the mild— there present-. It was only by a miracle the public learned the truth: and miracles are rare. Meantime, Alfred had a misgiving 1 . The plausible doctor had now Squire Tollett's ear, and Tollett was old, and something' about him reminded the Oxonian of a trait his friend Horace had detected in old age : Vel qudd res onlnes tiniid'd gelid£ quo mfaiabtaV. Dilator, spe longus, iiters, &c. He knew there was another justice in the house, but he knew also be should not be allowed to get speech with him* ii by cunning or force it could be prevented. He kept his door ajar. Presently Nurse Hannah came bustling along with an apronful of things, and let herself intc a vacant room hard by. This Hannah was a young woman with a pretty and rather babyish face* diversified by a thick biceps muscle in her arm that a blacksmith need not have blushed for. And [ suspect it was this masculine charm, and not her, feminine features, that had won her the confidence of Baker and Co., and the respect of his female patients ) big or HttlHj excited of not excited, there Wad not one of them this bicipital baby-face could not pin by the wrists, and twist her helpless into a strong-room, or: handcuff her unaided in a moment; and she did it too on slight provocation. Nurse Hannah seldom came into Alfred's part of the house j but When she did meet hi.n, she generally gave him a kind look in passing j and he had resolved to -speak to her, and try if he could touch her conscience, or move her pity. He saw what she was at^ but was too politic to detect her openly and irritate her. He drew back a step, and said softly, * Nurse Hannah ! Are you there V * Yes, t am here/ said she sharply, and came out of the room hastily : and shut it. ' What do you want, sir V Alfred clasped his hands together j r If you ate a woman have pity on me.' She was taken by surprisei * What can I do V said she in some agitation. * I am only a servant.' 1 At least tell me where I can find the Visiting Justice, before the keepers stop me.' ' Hush ! Speak lower/ said Hannah-. * You have complained to one, haven't you V ' Yesi But he seems a feeble old foggy. Where is the other '! Oh, pray tell me f ' I mustn't : : t mustn't, tn the noisy Ward. There, run. 1 And run he did; Alfred was lucky BhoUgh to get safe into the noisy ward without being interceptedi And then he encountered a sunburnt gentleman^ under thirty, in a riding-coat, with a hunting-vvhip in his hand i it was Mr Vane* a Tory squird and large landholder in the county. 1 Now, as Alfred entered at tine door> Baker himself, came in at the ofcher» and, they nearly met at Vane. But Alfred saluted him first, and begged respectfully fof an interview; * Certainly, sir,' said Mr Vane. * Take care, sir $ be is dangerous,* " whispered Baker. Instantly M> Vane's i countenance changed. But this time i Alfred overheard the formula, and Raid quietly! ' Don*t believe him, sir. tam * not dangerous j lam as sane r as any * man in England. Pray examine me, and judge for yourself.'----1 ' Abi that is his" delusion,* said Baker. * 'Come, Mr Hardie. I allow you great i liberties, but you abuse .them. VoU 3 really must not monopolise, his Wor- *> .ship with your fancies. Consider, sir, s you are not the only patient he has to > examine.' .. : t -...,-.-,. ..:.-.-•' * Alfred's 'heart satiki he tuMied ft look 8 of silent agpjiyon ; _Mr. l^anei, j .Mr Variej. Either,. Jouctiedi4y '"■■ that ' ook } or it n tated l oy^BaJke^s, pf «gma.tical ■t interference^ ; that person 'toti\\y;A^ihß^wt^p4:^^ ' sternly : *Be sifeftt^lir/paqdd^t-'thdg-it gentUmM speak to me-.* ."3'^, (To be, CbrttiftUfet.)' ' .iS't^-':

Permanent link to this item

https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/CL18790124.2.29.1

Bibliographic details

Clutha Leader, Volume V, Issue 237, 24 January 1879, Page 7

Word Count
6,276

CHAPTER XXXII. Clutha Leader, Volume V, Issue 237, 24 January 1879, Page 7

CHAPTER XXXII. Clutha Leader, Volume V, Issue 237, 24 January 1879, Page 7

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