The String of Pearls; Or, The Barber of Fleet Street. A Domestic Romance.
Tobias did not wish to weep; but those tears, after all the horrors of
the night, did him a world of good, and he felt wonderfully better after
they had been shed. Moreover, the voice kept singing without
intermission.
"Who can it be," thought Tobias, "that don't tire with so much of it."
Still the singer continued; but now and then Tobias felt certain that a
very wild note or two was mingled with the ordinary melody; and that
bred a suspicion in his mind, which gave him a shudder to think of,
namely, that the singer was mad.
"It must be so," said he. "No one in their senses could or would
continue for so long a period of time such strange snatches of song.
Alas! alas! it is some one who is really mad, and confined for life in
this dreadful place; for life do I say, am not I too confined for life
here? Oh! help! help! help!"
Tobias called out in so loud a tone, that the singer of the sweet
strains that had for a time lulled him to composure, heard him, and the
strains which had before been redolent of the softest and sweetest
melody, suddenly changed to the most terrific shrieks that can be
imagined. In vain did Tobias place his hands over his ears, to shut out
the horrible sounds. They would not be shut out, but ran, as it were,
into every crevice of his brain, nearly driving him distracted by their
vehemence. But hoarser tones soon came upon his ears, and he heard the
loud, rough voice of a man say--
"What, do you want the whip so early this morning? The whip--do you
understand that?"
These words were followed by the lashing of what must have been a heavy
carter's whip, and then the shrieks died away in deep groans, every one
of which went to the heart of poor Tobias.
"I can never live amid all these horrors," he said. "Oh, why don't you
kill me at once? it would be much better, and much more merciful. I can
never live long here. Help! help! help!"
When he shouted this word "help," it was certainly not with the most
distant idea of getting any help, but it was a word that came at once
uppermost to his tongue; and so he called it out with all his might,
that he should attract the attention of some one; for the solitude, and
the almost total darkness of the place he was in, was beginning to fill
him with new dismay. There was a faint light in the cell, which made him
know the difference between day and night; but where that faint light
came from he could not tell, for he could see no grating or opening
whatever; but yet that was in consequence of his eyes not being fully
accustomed to the obscurity of the place; otherwise he would have seen
that close up to the roof there was a narrow aperture, certainly not
larger than any one could have passed a hand through, although of some
four or five feet in length; and from a passage beyond that, there came
the dim borrowed light which made darkness visible in Tobias's cell.
With a kind of desperation, heedless of what might be the result, Tobias
continued to call aloud for help; and after about a quarter of an hour,
he heard the sound of a heavy footstep. Some one was coming; yes, surely
some one was coming, and he was not to be left to starve to death. Oh,
how intently he now listened to every sound, indicative of the near
approach of whoever it was who was coming to his prison-house. Now he
heard the lock move, and a heavy bar of iron was let down with a
clanging sound.
"Help! help!" he cried again, "help! help!" for he feared that whoever
it was they might even yet go away again after making so much progress
to get at him. The cell door was flung open, and the first intimation
that poor Tobias got of the fact of his cries having been heard,
consisted in a lash with a whip, which, if it had struck him as fully as
it was intended to do, would have done him serious injury.
"So, do you want it already?" said the same voice he had before heard.
"Oh no--mercy! mercy!" said Tobias.
"Oh, that's it now, is it? I tell you what it is, if we have any
disturbance here, this is the persuader to silence that we always use:
what do you think of that for an argument, eh?"
As he spoke, the man gave the whip a loud smack in the air, and
confirmed the truth of the argument, by inducing poor Tobias to absolute
silence; indeed the boy trembled so that he could not speak.
"Well, now, my man," added the fellow, "I think we understand each
other. What do you want?"
"Oh, let me go," said Tobias, "let me go. I will tell nothing. Say to
Mr. Todd that I will do what he pleases, and tell nothing, only let me
go out of this dreadful place. Have mercy upon me--I am not at all
mad--indeed I am not."
The man closed the door, as he whistled a lively tune.
CHAPTER XXVI.
THE MADHOUSE YARD, AND TOBIAS'S NEW FRIEND.
This sudden retreat of the man was unexpected by Tobias, who at least
thought it was the practice to feed people, even if they were confined
to such a place; but the unceremonious departure of the keeper, without
so much as mentioning anything about breakfast, began to make Tobias
think that the plan by which he was to be got rid of was starvation; and
yet that was impossible, for how easy it was to kill him if they felt so
disposed.
"Oh, no, no," he repeated to himself, "surely they will not starve me to
death."
As he uttered these words, he heard the plaintive singing commence
again; and he could not help thinking that it sounded like some requiem
for the dead, and that it was a sort of signal that his hours were
numbered. Despair again began to take possession of him, and despite the
savage threats of the keeper, he would again have loudly called for
help, had he not become conscious that there were footsteps close at
hand. By dint of listening most intently he heard a number of doors
opened and shut, and sometimes when one was opened there was a shriek,
and the lashing of the whips, which very soon succeeded in drowning all
other noises. It occurred to Tobias, and correctly too, for such was the
fact, that the inmates of that most horrible abode were living, like so
many wild beasts, in cages fed. Then he thought how strange it was that
even for any amount of money human beings could be got to do the work of
such an establishment. And by the time Tobias had made this reflection
to himself, his own door was once more opened upon its rusty hinges.
There was the flash of a light, and then a man came in with a water-can
in his hand, to which there was a long spout, and this he placed to the
mouth of Tobias, who fearing that if he did not drink then he might be a
long time without, swallowed some not over-savoury ditch water, as it
seemed to him, which was thus brought to him. A coarse, brown-looking,
hard loaf was then thrown at his feet, and the party was about to leave
his cell, but he could not forbear speaking, and in a voice of the most
supplicating earnestness he said--
"Oh, do not keep me here. Let me go, and I will say nothing of Todd. I
will go to sea at once if you will let me out of this place, indeed I
will; but I shall really go mad here!"
"Good that, Watson, ain't it?" said Mr. Fogg, who happened to be one of
the party.
"Very good, sir. Lord bless you, the cunning of 'em is beyond anything
in the world, sir; you'd be surprised at what they say to me sometimes."
"But I'm not mad--indeed I'm not mad!" cried Tobias.
"Oh," said Fogg, "it's a bad case I'm afraid; the strongest proof of
insanity in my opinion, Watson, is the constant reiteration of the
statement that he is not mad on the part of a lunatic. Don't you think
it is so, Mr. Watson?"
"Oh, of course, sir, of course."
"Ah! I thought you would be of that opinion; but I suppose as this is a
mere lad, we may do without chaining him up; and, besides, you know that
to-day is inspection day, when we get an old fool of a superannuated
physician to make us a visit."
"Yes, sir," said Watson, with a grin, "and a report that all is well
conducted."
"Exactly. Who shall we have this time, do you think? I always give a ten
guinea fee."
"Why, sir, there's old Dr. Popplejoy, he's 84 years old, they say, and
sand blind; he'll take it as a great compliment, he will, and no doubt
we can humbug him easily."
"I dare say we may; I'll see to it; and we will have him at twelve
o'clock, Watson. You will take care to have everything ready, of course,
you know; make all the usual preparations."
Tobias was astonished that before him they chose thus to speak so
freely, but despairing as he was, he little knew how completely he was
in the power of Mr. Fogg, and how utterly he was shut out from all human
sympathy. Tobias said nothing; but he could not help thinking that,
however old and stupid the physician whom they mentioned might be,
surely there was a hope that he would be able to discover Tobias's
perfect sanity. But the wily Mr. Fogg knew perfectly well what he was
about, and when he retired to his own room, he wrote the following note
to Dr. Popplejoy, who was a retired physician, who had purchased a
country house in the neighbourhood. The note will speak for itself,
being as fine a specimen of hypocrisy as we can ever expect to lay
before our readers--
"The Asylum, Peckham.
"SIR,--Probably you may recognise my name as that of the keeper of a
lunatic asylum in this neighbourhood. Consistent with a due regard for
the safety of that most unhappy class of the community submitted to my
care, I am most anxious, with the blessing of Divine Providence, to
ameliorate as far as possible, by kindness, that most shocking of all
calamities--insanity. Once a year it is my custom to call in some
experienced, able, and enlightened physician to see my patients (I
enclose a fee)--a physician who has nothing to do with the
establishment, and therefore cannot be biassed. If you, sir, would do me
the favour at about twelve o'clock to-day, to make a short visit of
inspection, I shall esteem it a great honour, as well as a great favour.
"Believe me to be, sir, with the most profound respect, your most
obedient and humble servant,
"O. D. FOGG."
"To Dr. Popplejoy, &c."
This note, as might be expected, brought the old purblind, superannuated
Dr. Popplejoy to the asylum, and Mr. Fogg received him in due form, and
with great gravity, saying, almost with tears in his eyes--
"My dear sir, the whole aim of my existence now, is to endeavour to
soften the rigours of the necessary confinement of the insane, and I
wish this inspection of my establishment to be made by you in order that
I may thus for a time stand clear with the world--with my own conscience
I am, of course, always clear; and if your report be satisfactory about
the treatment of the unhappy persons I have here, not the slightest
breath of slander can touch me."
"Oh yes, yes," said the old garrulous physician; "I--I--very good--eugh,
eugh--I have a slight cough."
"A very slight one, sir. Will you, first of all, take a look at one of
the sleeping chambers of the insane?"
The doctor agreed, and Mr. Fogg led him into a very comfortable
sleeping-room, which the old gentleman declared was very satisfactory
indeed, and when they returned to the apartment into which they had
already been, Mr. Fogg said--
"Well then, sir, all we have to do is to bring in the patients, one by
one, to you as fast as we can, so as not to occupy more of your valuable
time than necessary; and any questions you ask will, no doubt, be
answered, and I, being by, can give you the heads of any case that may
excite your especial notice."
"Exactly, exactly. I--I--quite correct. Eugh--eugh!"
The old man was placed in a chair of state, reposing on some very
comfortable cushions; and take him altogether, he was so pleased with