CHAPTER CLXXXIX.

SCENES IN THE LUNATIC ASYLUM.

Thus terminated the extraordinary manuscript which Lord William

Trevelyan found in the wardrobe, and the perusal of which occupied him

nearly two hours.

He was undecided how to dispose of the papers. Should he return

them to the place where they had been concealed?--should he destroy

them?--should he take them away with him, in the hope of being one day

enabled to discover their writer, and by restoring them to him convince

him that they had fallen into the possession of an honourable man, who,

though having had the curiosity to read them, would, nevertheless,

religiously keep the secret which they contained?

For, from the abrupt termination of the manuscript, Lord William very

naturally concluded that the unfortunate author had succeeded in

effecting his escape from the lunatic-asylum very shortly after he

had penned the last words in the narrative; and the young nobleman,

therefore, considered it to be possible, though perhaps not very

probable, that he might sooner or later encounter Mr. Macdonald in the

great and busy world.

Lord William had likewise another motive for retaining the papers.

The reader has seen enough of him to be aware that there was in his

disposition much of the same chivalrous spirit and philanthropic

principle which characterised the Earl of Ellingham; and it was

therefore natural that he should become suddenly impressed with the

idea of adopting measures, in due course, for the purpose of fully

exposing the atrocious system of quackery that was carried on by

pseudo-medical advertisers.

He remembered that the newspapers contained many advertisements

announcing such works as the one which had proved the means of

ensnaring the unfortunate Mr. Macdonald; and he was resolved to lose

no time in employing his solicitor to institute all the necessary

inquiries into the characters, histories, proceedings, and social

positions of the scoundrels who thus accumulated large fortunes by

means of the most atrocious quackery, deceit, rascality, and extortion.

The manuscript which chance had this night thrown in his way, contained

so many important particulars, and furnished such a complete clue to

the entire ramifications of the dark iniquity which the young nobleman

was determined to expose, that he regarded it as a powerful auxiliary

to the crusade he was about to undertake; and this consideration, added

to the motives already mentioned, decided him in retaining possession

of the document.

It was now one o’clock in the morning; and a profound silence reigned

throughout the lunatic asylum.

Lord William noiselessly opened the door of his chamber, and looked

forth into the long passage, which was partially lighted by a single

lamp that had been left burning.

No living being was to be seen; and nothing disturbed the dead

stillness of the hour and the place.

It now struck the young nobleman that the door of the chamber which he

was anxious to enter--namely, No. 12, in the same passage as his own

apartment--was most probably locked; and, in this case, he made up his

mind to force it at all risks.

A little farther reflection suggested to him that, inasmuch as he

had seen the housekeeper with only a single key in her hand, it was

probable that this key was a pass to all the chambers; and he thence

inferred that the key of his own room might perhaps fit the lock of the

door belonging to No. 12.

At all events this was the first experiment that he resolved to try;

and, without any longer delay, he proceeded as cautiously as possible

down the passage, until he reached the chamber which he hoped and

believed to be the one occupied by his friend.

There was a bolt outside the door: this was immediately drawn

back;--and Trevelyan essayed the key.

To his indescribable joy, the key turned easily in the lock; and, with

a beating heart, the nobleman entered the room--closing the door behind

him.

The chamber was quite dark: but Trevelyan speedily groped his way to

the window and drew aside the curtains, so as to permit the powerful

moonlight to pour its silver flood into the room.

He now approached the bed--and there, to his delight, he beheld the

well-known, though worn and wasted, countenance of his friend Sir

Gilbert Heathcote, who was wrapped in slumber.

Lord William shook him gently; the baronet awoke with a sudden start

and ejaculation; but at the same instant a friendly voice said,

hurriedly, “Fear nothing! ’tis I--Trevelyan--and I am come to deliver

you from this accursed place.”

Sir Gilbert, who had raised his head from the pillow, fell back again,

and closed his eyes for a few moments. He fancied that he was dreaming.

He could not believe that those welcome words had in reality sounded in

his ears, or that the moonlight had shown him the form of his friend by

the bed-side.

Trevelyan did not choose to interrupt the baronet’s reverie

immediately; he comprehended the prudence of allowing him to collect

his scattered ideas, and compose his thoughts.

“Is it really you, my dear young friend?” Sir Gilbert asked abruptly;

and, starting up in the bed, he seized Trevelyan’s hand, and gazed

fixedly upon his countenance.

“Yes, it is no dream,” responded Lord William, pressing the baronet’s

hand with all the fervour of his generous friendship; “I am here to

effect your escape, and there is no time to be lost.”

Still the baronet could scarcely believe the joyful announcement thus

made to him; and Trevelyan, duly impressed with the necessity of

tranquilising and reassuring his friend’s mind as much as possible ere

the attempt at departure should be made,--fearing likewise that the

baronet’s intellect had been somewhat impaired by the sense of wrong

and the horrors of imprisonment in a lunatic asylum,--began to speak

upon such topics as were calculated to direct his thoughts into a

salutary channel.

“My dear Heathcote,” he said, “endeavour to call to your aid as much

calmness and self-possession as possible; for a single inadvertence

or false step may ruin our project by alarming the house. Remember

that the place is as well protected and defended, and probably as well

watched, as a gaol: and we must proceed with caution--courage--and

coolness.”

“But how did you find your way into the establishment?” enquired Sir

Gilbert, his ideas becoming more settled.

“By pretending to be insane,” answered Trevelyan; “and I have succeeded

in thoroughly duping the Doctor.”

“Oh! my generous--my noble-hearted friend!” exclaimed the baronet: “how

can I ever sufficiently prove my gratitude----”

“Hush! speak not with excitement!” interrupted Trevelyan. “I am only

doing towards you what you would unhesitatingly perform for me under

the same circumstances. And now--as I am anxious to relieve your

mind as much as possible from any uneasiness or suspense that it may

experience--I must at once inform you that Mrs. Sefton is in good

health, and at this moment in the happy expectation of shortly seeing

you again; for she is aware of the scheme which I have adopted to

restore you to liberty.”

“Heaven be thanked for these assurances!” exclaimed Sir Gilbert: then,

after a few moments’ pause, he said, “I need scarcely ask you to

explain how you became acquainted with Mrs. Sefton. She was no stranger

to the friendship subsisting between you and me--and I therefore

conclude that, alarmed by my sudden and inexplicable disappearance, she

sought your counsel and assistance.”

“All has occurred precisely as you conjecture,” answered Trevelyan.

“But do you now feel equal to the task----”

“Of making an effort to recover my freedom?” ejaculated Sir Gilbert,

leaping from the couch. “Let us not lose another moment! The atmosphere

of this place seems oppressive, and heavy to breathe. I pant--I

yearn--I long for liberty.”

Thus speaking, the baronet began hastily to put on his attire, and in a

few minutes he was dressed.

“Now,” said Trevelyan, “we must decide upon the course to be adopted.

Doubtless there is a porter to keep watch all night in the hall?” he

added, interrogatively.

“Yes,” answered Sir Gilbert: “and I am also certain that a man patrols

the garden. Besides, the keepers inside the house are as wakeful and as

watchful as the fiends of Pandemonium; and the least noise will bring

half-a-dozen strong and desperate fellows upon us. For my part, I have

not the slightest objection to embrace the alternative of fighting our

way through all opposition----”

“But the consequences of defeat would be most disastrous,” interrupted

Trevelyan. “The Doctor would thereby gain an excuse for coercing both

you and me; and although I am as it were my own prisoner, yet I have

sworn not to quit these walls unless accompanied by you.”

“Generous friend!” exclaimed Sir Gilbert. “Were we well armed, we might

bid defiance to the Doctor and all his gang: but weaponless--powerless

as we are----”

“Do not despond, Heathcote,” said Trevelyan, observing that the baronet

spoke in a mournful tone: “the task that I have undertaken, I will

accomplish! There appear to me to be two modes of procedure. The first

is to descend as noiselessly as possible to the hall--seize upon the

porter--master him--and then effect our escape by the front-door. The

other is to force away the bars from the window of this room--make

a rope of the bed-clothing--descend into the garden--and take our

chance with the watchman. Either project is attended with the risk of

creating an alarm: but it is for you to decide, from your knowledge of

the premises and the habits of its inmates, which scheme is the more

feasible.”

“The former,” responded Sir Gilbert, after a few moments’ deep

reflection. “The watchman in the garden would probably observe us at

the window, removing the bars; and an alarm would thus be raised even

before we were prepared to attempt an escape by those means. On the

other hand, the porter sleeps in the hall:--of _this_ fact I am well

assured, because I saw the bed temporarily made up for him there on the

night that I was brought hither:--therefore our chances of success lie

in that direction.”

“Such also is my idea,” observed Trevelyan. “Let us proceed at

once--and permit me to take the lead.”

The young nobleman and the baronet stole cautiously forth from the

chamber, treading so lightly that their steps raised not a sound to

disturb the silence which prevailed throughout the establishment.

They descended to the first floor in safety: and there they paused for

a few minutes on the landing, listening with suspended breath.

The deep and regular respiration of the porter now reached their ears

from the hall below; and they thus obtained the assurance that the man

slumbered.

Exchanging looks of satisfaction, they descended the last flight

of stairs;--and, by the hall lamp, they perceived the porter

comfortably ensconced in a truckle-bed that was made up for him in a

convenient corner. The light fell on his rubicund countenance, which

was surmounted by a cotton nightcap: but the brawny arm that lay

outside the coverlid, and the tracing of his form as shaped by the

bed-clothes, showed full well that he was a man of herculean stature

and proportionate strength.

Nothing daunted--but resolving upon a desperate effort to accomplish

the purpose he had in view--Lord William Trevelyan led the way into

the hall; and he had just ascertained the fact that there was a bunch

of large keys peeping forth from beneath the sleeping porter’s pillow,

when the door of the supper-room suddenly opened, and Mr. Sheepshanks

staggered forth.

The reverend gentleman carried a candle in his hand; and, by his

flushed countenance, vacant stare, and unsteady walk, he was evidently

in a pretty advanced state of intoxication. In fact--and there is no

necessity to disguise the matter--the pious minister had sate up to

enjoy himself alone; and he had carried his libations to such an extent

that he was now, at two o’clock in the morning, most awfully drunk.

The moment Lord William caught sight of the inebriate minister, he

sprang upon him--placed his hand tightly over his mouth--and, thrusting

him back into the supper-room, said in a low but hasty and threatening

tone, “Move hence at your peril!”

He then closed and locked the door.

But in the short and decided scuffle an untoward accident had occurred.

The candlestick had dropped from Mr. Sheepshanks’ hand on the marble

floor of the hall; and the consequence was that the porter sprang up,

and was out of bed in a trice.

Sir Gilbert Heathcote rushed upon him: but not in time to prevent the

man from springing a huge rattle and crying, “Help! help!”

Lord William Trevelyan hesitated not a moment how to act. He darted to

the truckle-bed--seized the keys from beneath the pillow--and sprang to

the door, leaving Sir Gilbert Heathcote wrestling desperately with the

porter.

The reader will remember that there were two doors; and the young

nobleman had only just time to open the first or inner one, when a

rapid glance cast behind showed him his friend Sir Gilbert upon the

floor, completely overpowered by the huge porter, who had placed his

knee upon the baronet’s chest.

It was Trevelyan’s hope that his friend would have been able to keep

the porter engaged in the struggle until he could have opened both the

doors, when he would have turned to the scene of strife, to rescue the

baronet; but scarcely had he observed that Sir Gilbert was already

vanquished, when four of the keepers rushed down stairs into the hall.

With the rapidity and force of a tiger springing upon its prey, Lord

William rushed on the huge porter, hurled him to a distance, and raised

up the prostrate baronet.

All this was the work of an instant: but in another moment the keepers

sprang upon the two friends, and closed with them.

The baronet was again borne down; but Trevelyan, who now saw that

the conflict was really becoming desperate, used the bunch of heavy

door-keys with such effect that he speedily disabled the two keepers

who had assailed him,--stretching one senseless on the floor, and

compelling the other to beat a retreat with the blood pouring down his

face.

To turn his attention to the two men who were dragging away Sir Gilbert

Heathcote, was the intrepid young nobleman’s next step; and in a few

moments the baronet, once more rescued from the enemy, was by the side

of his intrepid friend.

“Take the keys and open the front door!” cried Trevelyan, impetuously

pushing Sir Gilbert towards that extremity of the hall where the means

of egress lay. “Escape, in the name of heaven!--think not of me!”

And having thrust the keys into his friend’s hand, Lord William seized

the Doctor’s gold-headed cane, which hung to a hat-peg in the hall;

and placing himself between the front-door and the keepers, he cried,

“Beware how you provoke me--for I shall not hesitate to defend myself

to the death!”

But scarcely were these words uttered, when the two keepers from whom

he had rescued the baronet, returned to the charge, aided by the burly

porter.

The foremost was instantaneously felled by a blow vigorously dealt

with the cane; and, following up his advantage quickly as the eye can

wink, Trevelyan darted at the other keeper, whom he also levelled on

the spot. But in the next moment the gallant young nobleman was in the

grasp of the porter; and, dropping the cane as no longer useful in a

close tussle, he addressed himself with all his might to this last and

most desperate single combat.

The scene was very exciting; and all that we have yet described since

the first moment that the conflict commenced, did not occupy more than

two minutes.

Scarcely had the intrepid nobleman and the herculean porter closed

together, when the Doctor, attired in his dressing-gown and slippers,

and with his cotton night-cap on his head, appeared at the bottom of

the stairs, holding a chamber-candle in his hand.

At the same instant Sir Gilbert Heathcote had succeeded in opening the

front door; and the morning breeze poured into the hall, in a manner

doubtless highly refreshing to the porter, who, be it remembered, had

nothing on but his shirt--_his_ cap having fallen off in the conflict

which he had maintained with the baronet in the first instance.

Two of the discomfited keepers, animated by the presence of the

Doctor--or perhaps rendered ashamed of their pusillanimity--now

returned to the attack upon Trevelyan, who was just on the point of

hurling the porter to the ground. But Sir Gilbert, having made the

entrance free, rushed back to help his friend; and the contest was

again renewed with desperate energy,--the other two keepers, who had by

this time recovered their senses, joining in the struggle.

And hard would it have gone with Trevelyan and the baronet against such

odds, had not two new-comers suddenly appeared upon the scene.

For, the front door standing wide open, and the lamp being alight in

the hall, two gentlemen who were passing by the house at the time

beheld the extraordinary proceedings that were taking place within;

and the foremost, perceiving in an instant that the odds were two to

five,--namely, Trevelyan and the baronet against the four keepers and

the porter,--exclaimed at the top of a stentorian voice, “Be Jasus!

Frank, and we’ll just give a helping hand to the waker side!”

With these words, the redoubtable Captain O’Blunderbuss--nerved

with all the courage attributed by Sir Walter Scott to Lord

Marmion--“plunged into the fight.”

Or, in less poetical language, he darted into the hall--levelled the

herculean porter with a well-directed blow between the eyes--and sent

a couple of keepers sprawling over the aforesaid porter in an instant.

Frank Curtis, having imbibed just sufficient poteen to subdue his

habitual cowardice and arm him with the bastard though not the less

effectual valour which strong drink inspires, unhesitatingly followed

the example of his gallant leader, and bore his part in the fray; so

that in less than a minute a complete diversion was effected in favour

of Lord William Trevelyan and Sir Gilbert Heathcote, the enemy being

utterly discomfited.

“Villains! murderers! robbers!” shouted the infuriate Doctor, as loud

as he could bawl; and then the screams and shrieks of the affrighted

female servants were heard echoing from the stairs and landing-places.

“Let us depart!” cried Lord William Trevelyan; and, in a very few

moments, he pushed the baronet, the captain, and Frank Curtis, out of

the front door,--he himself pausing only for a single second to secure

the keys.

In another instant he was outside the house; and closing the door

behind him, he locked it so as to prevent the Doctor and his myrmidons

from instituting an immediate pursuit.

“Be Jasus! and this is the rummest lar-r-k I iver had in all my life!”

ejaculated Captain O’Blunderbuss, panting for breath.

“Come with us, gentlemen,” said Lord William, hastily addressing that

gallant officer and Frank Curtis: “you have rendered us a signal

service--and we must know you better. We have likewise certain

necessary explanations to give you relative to the strange scene in

which you took so generous a part. But come away directly--there is not

a moment to be lost--a hue and cry may be raised!”

“Be the power-rs! and is it bur-r-glars ye are?” cried the Captain,

somewhat regretting the precipitation with which he had mixed himself

up in the late affray.

“No--no: far from _that_!” exclaimed Lord William, laughing heartily

at the idea. “But let us get as quickly as we can out of this

neighbourhood.”

And away the four gentlemen scampered into the Cambridge Road, down

which they sped until they reached Mile End, where they fortunately

found a night-cab waiting for a fare.

Into the vehicle they got; and Lord William Trevelyan exclaimed, as an

instruction to the driver, “Park Square, Regent’s Park!”

Away the cab went; and both Captain O’Blunderbuss and Frank Curtis,

who had heard the aristocratic address thus given, were seized with an

insatiable curiosity to learn who their new acquaintances could be.