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," said the man.
"Eat!" said Alfred; "of what do you think I am made! Pray put it down and listen to me. I'll give you a hundred pounds to let me out of this place;two hundred; three."A coarse laugh greeted this proposal. "You might as well have made it a thousand when you was about it.""So I 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 his knee and began to cut the meat in small pieces; while his careless words entered Alfred's heart, and gave him such a glimpse 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 sobs for snarls.
"Oh, be honest with me," said Alfred imploringly; "do you think it is to steal my money the wretch has stolen my liberty?""What wretch?""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 musn'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-bye. But my grief is great--oh Julia! Julia! what shall I do? And I am not used to eat at this time. Will you, my good fellow?""Well, I will, now 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 was 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--almost 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 strait-waistcoat.
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-bye 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 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 had distracted with the very sleeplessness 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 there was no help, Alfred clenched his teeth and bore it:--"Bite on, ye little wretches," he said "bite on, and divert my mind from 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 keeper and three more came in, and made him dress before them. They handcuffed him, and took him down to breakfast in the noisy ward; set him down on a little bench by the wall like a naughty boy, and ordered a dangerous maniac to 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 and absorbing 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 so fast as that, old fellow."Something in his tone struck the maniac; he looked at Alfred full, Alfred looked at him in return, and smiled kindly but sadly.
"Hallo!" cried the maniac.
"What's up now?" said a keeper fiercely.
"Why this man is sane. As sane as I am."
At this there was a horse laugh.
"Saner," persisted the maniac; "for I am a little queer at times, you know.""And no mistake, Jemmy. Now what makes you think he is sane?""Looked me full in the face, and smiled at me.""Oh, that is your test, is it?""Yes, it is. You try it on any of those mad beggars there and see if they can stand it.""Who invented gunpowder?" said one of the insulted persons, looking as sly and malicious as a magpie going to steal.
