Feel I not wrath with those who placed me here,
Who have debased me in the minds of men,
Debarring me the usage of my own,
Blighting my life in best of its career,
Branding my thoughts as things to spurn and fear.
BYRON.
A week passed thus, and at the close, Eustace was not only permitted to
leave his bed, but was removed during the day to a lower room, opening
upon an enclosed court, into which, though still feeble, he was
permitted to stroll at his pleasure, undisturbed by the sight or
presence of any of the wretched inmates of the establishment. Here his
proud form at length one day confronted the doctor; and as he drew near,
to inquire after his patient, Eustace thus accosted him:
"Having so far recovered, Doctor, I suppose you will now be so good as
to satisfy my mind by answering a few questions I am naturally anxious
to put to you. First of all, how long may I have remained in that house
before I became conscious of being chained up like a wild beast in his
den?"
"My dear Sir, it is our practice never to allow our patients to agitate
or excite themselves by any discussion upon the subject of their late
illnesses; but I may tell you so far, that you came under my charge here
the night before the day from which I may date the period of your
convalescence."
"And in what state was I conveyed here? I now seem to have some slight
recollection of feeling myself borne along in a carriage; but it is all
confused like the rest."
"No doubt, Sir; but your question I must beg to decline answering: it is
one of those which are forbidden."
"And by whose authority was I committed to this place, may I be
permitted to inquire _that_?"
The doctor hesitated, but looking on his patient, there was something in
his countenance and demeanour which seemed to exert its due weight on
one--the secret of whose profession was influence over others, and a
thorough knowledge of the workings of the countenances of those with
whom they have to deal.
"By the proper authorities in such cases, Sir--the certificates of two
medical practitioners and your near relation."
"My father, I conclude?"
"No, Sir; the party who stood forward on this occasion, was your
brother."
"My brother!"
Those words were repeated as if with them a weight of lead had fallen on
the listener's heart, and stunned it.
Eustace Trevor stood transfixed for a moment, in silent thought; then
turning from the doctor's inquisitive gaze, took two or three turns
along the grass, with folded arms, and head sunk low upon his bosom.
At last he paused, and stood once more before the doctor, who still
remained steadfastly regarding him.
"I suppose, at any rate, that now, Sir, there can be no reason for my
remaining any longer under your charge?"
"I hope, indeed, Mr. Trevor, that there may be but a very little time
necessary."
"_Necessary!_ No, I should think not. To-night, Sir, it is my wish to
leave your establishment."
The doctor smiled soothingly.
"Come, my dear Sir, not quite so fast as all that--you are not
quite--quite well yet."
"Quite well, Sir, as far as concerns your branch of the profession; and
when I tell you that, it is my firm conviction that I never ought to
have been here, and that I shall take care to make this generally known,
I think you will see the expediency of making no attempt to detain me,
contrary to my inclination."
The doctor again smiled compassionately. When were his unhappy patients
ever known to remain, according to their own pleasure, within those
walls?
"Very well, Sir--very well; no threats are needed--I only wait your
friends' consent."
"_My friends!_" and there was a mournful intonation on these words.
"Well, Sir," with a commanding air, "be so good as to gain that consent
as soon as possible--my father's, my brother's, and of one called Mabel
Marryott, I conclude. I might not be so inclined to await patiently
their decision, were I not unwilling," glancing at the high wall
surrounding him, and towards the spot where he knew a keeper, in the
absence of the doctor, watched his movements unseen, "to employ that
physical force, which I see is expected in this place."
The doctor bowed complacently and withdrew, after stealing a significant
look at his attendant minister. But the warning it intended to imply,
was not needed. The spirit of Eugene Trevor was bowed down to the very
dust with its load of bitterness.
He returned into the house, and remained that evening plunged in a dark
dejection, which he felt the necessity of shaking off, lest that
horrible thing should indeed creep over his mind, of which he was
accused.
The following morning he again made application to Dr. Miller concerning
his release, but received only an equivocal reply.
His brother was from home, and the necessary answer was not to be
obtained; his father--he was ill, and they feared to bring the subject
before him. Eustace reasoned, then commanded as to the expediency of
waiving all such forms, and his dismissal being given without further
prevarication or delay. This was declined civilly, as to a reasonable
being; but still the mind of the unfortunate prisoner was irritated and
goaded, by perceiving that every precaution was taken for the security
of his person. He was loth to having recourse to any violent attempt to
perpetrate his escape; but when one day, after time had gone on, and he
plainly saw that some other authority than the doctor's influenced his
detention; a feeling almost of real distraction began to take possession
of his mind, and he determined that those hated walls should hold him no
longer--that like a very madman, if it must be so, he would break his
bonds and make the very neighbourhood ring with the wrongs he had
received.
Though his noble spirit pined, his physical strength was returning. He
often measured with his eye the form of the keeper, who so skilfully
managed to dog his steps and movements, and thought how little it would
take him, if it ever was needed, to fell that, comparatively speaking,
puny form to the ground, or that of any one who attempted to oppose his
lawful exit from that house. A providential accident came at length to
his aid.
One afternoon, when seated drearily, meditating over his fate, and
endeavouring to invent expedients for his immediate emancipation, in the
private sitting-room accorded to him, he heard a noise in the passage--a
scraping of feet and sounds of horrid laughter. All this had become
natural to his ear; but it just occurred to him to look out of the door
into the anteroom, where his constant _attaché_ was generally in
attendance. He was gone. Some peculiar exigency had demanded his
immediate services towards the unfortunate, whose voice he had just
heard.
A few hasty strides and Eustace was in the outer corridor: it was empty.
He stood one second irresolute, which way to turn; then offered up a
silent prayer to Heaven and started forward, he knew not whither.