AN EXAMINATION.
Some days had elapsed. Judith had not suffered from her second night
expedition as she had from the first, but the intellectual abilities
of Jamie had deteriorated. The fright he had undergone had shaken his
nerves, and had made him more restless, timid, and helpless than
heretofore, exacting more of Judith's attention and more trying her
endurance. But she trusted these ill effects would pass away in time.
From his rambling talk she had been able to gather some particulars,
which to a degree modified her opinion relative to the behavior of Mr.
Obadiah Scantlebray. It appeared from the boy's own account that he
had been very troublesome. After he had been taken into the wing of
the establishment that was occupied by the imbeciles, his alarm and
bewilderment had grown. He had begun to cry and to clamor for his
release, or for the presence of his sister. As night came on,
paroxysms of impotent rage had alternated with fits of whining. The
appearance of his companions in confinement, some of them complete
idiots, with half-human gestures and faces, had enhanced his terrors.
He would eat no supper, and when put to bed in the common dormitory
had thrown off his clothes, torn his sheets, and refused to lie down;
had sat up and screamed at the top of his voice. Nothing that could be
done, no representations would pacify him. He prevented his fellow
inmates of the asylum from sleeping, and he made it not at all
improbable that his cries would be overheard by passers-by in the
street, or those occupying neighboring houses, and thus give rise to
unpleasant surmises, and perhaps inquiry. Finally, Scantlebray had
removed the boy to the place of punishment, the Black Hole, a
compartment of the cellars, there to keep him till his lungs were
exhausted, or his reason gained the upper hand, and Judith supposed,
with some justice, that Scantlebray had done this only, or chiefly,
because he himself would be up, and about the cellars, engaged in
housing his supplies of brandy, and that he had no intention of
locking the unhappy boy up for the entire night, in solitude, in his
cellars. He had not left him in complete darkness, for a candle had
been placed on the ground outside the Black Hole door.
As Judith saw the matter now, it seemed to her that though Scantlebray
had acted with harshness and lack of judgment there was some
palliation for his conduct. That Jamie could be most exasperating, she
knew full well by experience. When he went into one of his fits of
temper and crying, it took many hours and much patience to pacify him.
She had spent long time and exhausted her efforts to bring him to a
subdued frame of mind on the most irrational and trifling occasions,
when he had been angered. Nothing answered with him then save infinite
forbearance and exuberant love. On this occasion there was good excuse
for Jamie's fit, he had been frightened, and frightened out of his few
wits. As Judith said to herself--had she been treated in the same
manner, spirited off, without preparation, to a strange house,
confined among afflicted beings, deprived of every familiar
companion--she would have been filled with terror, and reasonably so.
She would not have exhibited it, however, in the same manner as Jamie.
Scantlebray had not acted with gentleness, but he had not, on the
other hand, exhibited wanton cruelty. That he was a man of coarse
nature, likely on provocation to break through the superficial veneer
of amiability, she concluded from her own experience, and she did not
doubt that those of the unfortunate inmates of the asylum who
overstrained his forbearance met with very rough handling. But that he
took a malignant pleasure in harassing and torturing them, that she
did not believe.
On the day following the escape from the asylum, Judith sent Mr.
Menaida to Wadebridge with the blanket that had been carried off round
the shoulders of her brother, and with a request to have Jamie's
clothes surrendered. Uncle Zachie returned with the garments, they
were not refused him, and Judith and her brother settled down into the
routine of employment and amusement as before. The lad assisted Mr.
Menaida with his bird skins, talking a little more childishly than
before, and sticking less assiduously to his task; and Judith did her
needlework and occasionally played on the piano the pieces of music at
which Uncle Zachie had hammered ineffectually for many years, and she
played them to the old man's satisfaction.
At last the girl ventured to induce Jamie to recommence his lessons.
He resisted at first, and when she did, on a rainy day, persuade him
to set to his school tasks, she was careful not to hold him to them
for more than a few minutes, and to select those lessons which made
him least impatient.
There was a "Goldsmith's Geography," illustrated with copper-plates of
Indians attacking Captain Cook, the geysers, Esquimaux fishing, etc.,
that always amused the boy. Accordingly, more geography was done
during these first days of resumption of work than history,
arithmetic, or reading. Latin had not yet been attempted, as that was
Jamie's particular aversion. However, the Eton Latin grammar was
produced, and placed on the table, to familiarize his mind with the
idea that it had to be tackled some day.
Judith had spread the table with lesson-books, ink, slate, and
writing-copies, one morning, when she was surprised at the entry of
four gentlemen, two of whom she recognized immediately as the Brothers
Scantlebray. The other two she did not know. One was thin faced, with
red hair, a high forehead extending to the crown, with the hair drawn
over it, and well pomatumed, to keep it in place, and conceal the
baldness; the other a short man, in knee-breeches and tan-boots, with
a red face, and with breath that perfumed the whole room with spirits.
Mr. Scantlebray, senior, came up with both hands extended. "This is
splendid! How are you? Never more charmed in my life, and ready to
impart knowledge, as the sun diffuses light. Obadiah, old man, look at
your pupil--better already for having passed through your hands. I can
see it at a glance; there's a brightness, a _Je ne sais quoi_ about
him that was not there before. Old man, I congratulate you. You have a
gift--shake hands."
The gentlemen seated themselves without invitation. Surprise and
alarm made Judith forget her usual courtesy. She feared lest the sight
of his gaolers might excite Jamie. But it was not so. Whether, in his
confused mind, he did not associate Mr. Obadiah with his troubles on
that night of distress, or whether his attention was distracted by the
sight of so many, was doubtful, but Jamie did not seem to be
disconcerted; rather, on the contrary, he was glad of some excuse for
escape from lessons.
"We are come," said the red-headed man, "at Miss Trevisa's desire--but
really, Mr. Scantlebray, for shame of you. Where are your manners?
Introduce me."
"Mr. Vokins," said Scantlebray, "and the accomplished and charming
Miss Judith Trevisa, orphing."
"And now, dear young lady," said the red-headed man, "now, positively,
it is my turn--my friend, Mr. Jukes. Jukes, man! Miss Judith Trevisa."
Then Mr. Vokins coughed into his thin white hand, and said, "We are
come, naturally--and I am sure you wish what Miss Trevisa wishes--to
just look at your brother, and give our opinion on his health."
"Oh, he is quite well," said Judith.
"Ah! you think so, naturally, but we would decide for ourselves,
dearest young lady, though--not for the world would we willingly
differ from you. But, you know, there are questions on which varieties
of opinions are allowable, and yet do not disturb the most heartfelt
friendship. It is so, is it not, Jukes?"
The rubicund man in knee-breeches nodded.
"Shall I begin, Jukes? Why, my fine little man! What an array of
books! What scholarship! And at your age, too--astounding! What age
did you say you were?" This to Jamie in an insinuating tone. Jamie
stared, looked appealingly at Judith, and said nothing.
"We are the same age, we are twins," said Judith.
"Oh! it is not the right thing to appear anxious to know a lady's age.
We will put it another way, eh, Jukes?"
The red-faced man leaned his hands on his stick, his chin on his
hands, and winked, as in that position he could not nod.
"Now, my fine little man! When is your birthday? When you have your
cake--raisin-cake, eh?"
Jamie looked questioningly at his sister.
"Ah! Come, not the day of the month--but the month, eh?"
Jamie could not answer.
"Come now," said the red-headed levy man, stretching his legs before
him, legs vested in white trousers, strapped down tight. "Come now, my
splendid specimen of humanity! In which quarter of the year? Between
sickle and scythe, eh?" He waited, and receiving no answer, pulled out
a pocket-book and made a note, after having first wetted the end of
his pencil. "Don't know when he was born. What do you say to that,
Jukes? Will you take your turn?"
The man with an inflamed face was gradually becoming purple, as he
leaned forward on his stick, and said, "Humph! a Latin grammar.
Propria quæ maribus. I remember it, but it was a long time ago I
learned it. Now, whipper-snapper! How do you get on? Propria quæ
maribus--Go on." He waited. Jamie looked at him in astonishment.
"Come! Tribu--" again he waited. "Come! _Tribuntur mascula dicas._ Go
on." Again a pause. Then with an impatient growl. "Ut sunt divorum,
Mars, Bacchus, Apollo. This will never do. Go on with the Scaramouch,
Vokins. I'll make my annotations."
"He's too hard on my little chap, ain't he?" asked the thin man in
ducks. "We won't be done. We are not old enough----"
"He is but eighteen," said Judith.
"He is but eighteen," repeated the red-headed man. "Of course he has
not got so far as that, but musa, musæ."
Jamie turned sulky.
"Not musa, musæ--and eighteen years! Jukes, this is serious, Jukes;
eh, Jukes?"
"Now look here, you fellows," said Scantlebray, senior. "You are too
exacting. It's holiday time, ain't it, Orphing? We won't be put upon,
not we. We'll sport, and frolic, and be joyful. Look here, Scanty, old
man, take the slate and draw a pictur' to my describing. Now then,
Jamie, look at him and hearken to me. He's the funniest old man that
ever was, and he'll surprise you. Are you ready, Scanty?" Mr. Obadiah
drew the slate before him, and signed with the pencil to Jamie to
observe him. The boy was quite ready to see him draw.
"There was once upon a time," began Mr. Scantlebray, senior, "a man
that lived in a round tower. Look at him, draw it, there you are. That
is the tower. Go on. And in the tower was a round winder. Do you see
the winder, Orphing? This man every morning put his hand out of the
winder to ascertain which way the wind blew. He put it in thus, and
drew it out thus. No! don't look at me, look at the slate and then
you'll see it all. Now this man had a large pond, preserved full of
fish." Scratch, scratch went the pencil on the slate. "Them's the
fish," said Scantlebray, senior. "Now below the situation of that
pond, in two huts, lived a pair of thieves. You see them pokey things
my brother has drawn? Them's the 'uts. When night set in, these wicked
thieves came walking up to the pond, see my brother drawing their
respective courses! And on reaching the pond, they opened the sluice,
and whish! whish! out poured the water." Scratch, scratch, squeak,
squeak, went the pencil on the slate. "There now! the naughty robbers
went after fish, and got a goose! Look! a goo-oose."
"Where's the goose?" asked Jamie.
"Where? Before your eyes--under your nose. That brilliant brother of
mine has drawn one. Hold the slate up, Scanty."
"That's not a goose," said Jamie.
"Not a goose! You don't know what geese are."
"Yes, I do," retorted the boy, resentfully, "I know the wild goose and
the tame one--which do you call that?"
"Oh, wild goose, of course."
"It's not one. A goose hasn't a tail like that, nor such legs," said
Jamie, contemptuously.
Mr. Scantlebray, senior, looked at Messrs. Vokins and Jukes and shook
his head. "A bad case. Don't know a goose when he sees it--and he is
eighteen."
Both Vokins and Jukes made an entry in their pocket-books.
"Now Jukes," said Vokins, "will you take a turn, or shall I?"
"Oh, you, Vokins," answered Jukes, "I haven't recovered _propria quæ
maribus_, yet."
"Very well, my interesting young friend. Suppose now we change the
subject and try arithmetic."
"I don't want any arithmetic," said Jamie, sulkily.
"No--come--now we won't call it by that name; suppose some one were
to give you a shilling."
Jamie looked up interested.
"And suppose he were to say. There--go and buy sweeties with this
shilling. Tartlets at three for two pence, and barley-sugar at three
farthings a stick, and----"
"I want my shilling back," said Jamie, looking straight into the face
of Mr. Scantlebray, senior.
"And that there were burnt almonds at two pence an ounce."
"I want my shilling," exclaimed the boy, angrily.
"Your shilling, puff! puff!" said the red-headed man. "This is ideal,
an ideal shilling, and ideal jam-tarts, almond rock, burnt almonds or
what you like."
"Give me back my shilling. I won it fair," persisted Jamie.
Then Judith, distressed, interfered. "Jamie, dear! what do you mean?
You have no shilling owing to you."
"I have! I have!" screamed the boy. "I won it fair of that man there,
because I made a rabbit, and he took it from me again."
"Hallucinations," said Jukes.
"Quite so," said Vokins.
"Give me my shilling. It is a cheat!" cried Jamie, now suddenly roused
into one of his fits of passion.
Judith caught him by the arm, and endeavored to pacify him.
"Let go, Ju! I will have my shilling. That man took it away. He is a
cheat, a thief. Give me my shilling."
"I am afraid he is excitable," said Vokins.
"Like all irrational beings," answered Jukes. "I'll make a note.
Rising out of hallucinations."
"I will have my shilling," persisted Jamie. "Give me my shilling or
I'll throw the ink at you."
He caught up the ink-pot, and before Judith had time to interfere had
flung it across the table, intending to hit Mr. Scantlebray, senior,
but not hurt him, and the black fluid was scattered over Mr. Vokins's
white trousers.
"Bless my life!" exclaimed this gentleman, springing to his feet,
pulling out his handkerchief to wipe away the ink, and only smearing
it the more over his "ducks" and discoloring as well, his kerchief.
"Bless my life--Jukes! a dangerous lunatic. Note at once. Clearly
comes within the act. Clearly."
In a few minutes all had left, and Judith was endeavoring to pacify
her irritated brother. His fingers were blackened, and finally she
persuaded him to go up-stairs and wash his hands clear of the ink.
Then she ran into the adjoining room to Mr. Menaida. "Oh, dear Mr.
Menaida!" she said, "what does this mean? Why have they been here?"
Uncle Zachie looked grave and discomposed.
"My dear," said he. "Those were doctors, and they have been here, sent
by your aunt, to examine into the condition of Jamie's intellect, and
to report on what they have observed. There was a little going beyond
the law, perhaps, at first. That is why they took it so easily when
you carried Jamie off. They knew you were with an old lawyer; they
knew that you or I could sue for a writ of Habeas Corpus."
"But do you really think--that Aunt Dionysia is going to have Jamie
sent back to that man at Wadebridge?"
"I am certain of it. That is why they came here to-day."
"Can I not prevent it?"
"I do not think so. If you go to law----"
"But if they once get him, they will make an idiot or a madman of
him."
"Then you must see your aunt and persuade her not to send him there."