Part 34 (2/2)
”Well, what about them?”
”It is the habit of the Commissioners to visit every establishment registered under the act and unfortunately, they are men--I mean of course that, fortunately, they are men of the most absolute probity, but given to over-riding, sometimes, the considered opinion of those in close touch with the cases they are brought in contact with. They would undoubtedly make strict enquiries into the truth of the story that Lord Rochester has just put up, and the result--I can quite see it--would drift us into one of those _exposes_, those painful and interminable lawsuits, destructive alike to property, to dignity, and that ease of mind inseparable from health and the enjoyment of those positions to which my labours and your Grace's lineage ent.i.tle us.”
”d.a.m.n the Commissioners,” suddenly broke out his Grace. ”Do you mean to say they would doubt my word?”
”Unfortunately, it is not a question of that,” said Simms. ”It is a question of what they call the liberty of the subject.”
”d.a.m.n the liberty of the subject--liberty of the subject. When a man's mad what right has he to liberty--liberty to cut people's throats maybe.
Look at that fool Arthur, liberty! Look at the use he made of his liberty when he had it. Look what he did to Langwathby: sent a telegram leading him to believe that his wife had broken out again--you know how she drinks--and had been gaoled in Carlisle. And the thing was so artfully constructed, it said almost nothing. You couldn't touch him on it. Simply said, 'Go at once to police court Carlisle.' See the art of it? Never mentioned the woman's name. There was no libel. Langwathby, to prosecute, would have to explain all about his wife. He went. What happened! You know his temper. He went to Langwathby Castle before going to the police court, and the first person he saw was his wife. Before all the servants. Before all the servants, mind you, he said to her, 'So they have let you out of prison and now you'd better get out of my house.' You know her temper. Before all the servants. Before all the servants, mind you, she accused him of that disgraceful affair in Pont Street when he was turned out in his pyjamas--and they half ripped off him--by Lord Tango's brother. Tango never knew anything of it. Never would, but he knows now, for Lucy Jerningham was at Langwathby when the scene occurred and she's told him. The result is poor Langwathby will find himself in the D. C. Liberty! What right has a man like that to talk of liberty?”
”Quite so,” said Simms, utterly despairing of pressing home the truth of the horrible situation upon this brain in blinkers. ”_Quite_ so. But facts are facts and the fact remains that this man--I mean--er--Lord Rochester, possesses on your own shewing great craft and subtlety. And he will use that with the Commissioners in Lunacy when they call.”
”When do they call?”
”Ah, that's just it. They visit asylums and registered houses at their own will, and the element of surprise is one of their methods. They may arrive at Hoover's any time. I say, literally, any time. Sometimes they arrive at a house in the middle of the night; they may leave an asylum unvisited for a month and then come twice in one week, and they hold everyone concerned literally in the hollows of their hands. If denied admittance they would not hesitate to break the doors down. Their power is absolute.”
”But, good G.o.d, sir,” cried the Duke, ”what you tell me is monstrous.
It's un-English. Break into a man's house, spy upon him in the middle of the night! Why, such powers vested in a body of men make for terrorisation. This must be seen to. I will speak about it in the House.”
”Quite so, but, meanwhile, there is the danger, and it must be faced.”
”I'll take him away from Hoover's.”
”Ah,” said Simms.
”I'll put him somewhere where these fellows won't be able to interfere.
How about my place at Skibo?”
Simms shook his head.
”He is under a certificate,” said he. ”The Commissioners call at Hoover's, inspect the books, find that Lord Rochester has been there, find him gone, find you have taken him away. They will simply call upon you to produce him.”
”How about my yacht?” asked the other.
”A long sea voyage for his health?”
”Ah,” said Simms, ”that's better, but voyages come to an end.”
”How about my villa at Naples? Properly looked after there he will be safe enough.”
”Of course,” said Simms, ”that will mean he will always have to be there--always.”
”Of course, always. D'you think now I have got him in safety I will let him out?”
Simms sighed. The business was drifting into very dangerous waters. He knew for a matter of fact and also by intuition that Jones was Jones and that Rochester was dead and his unfortunate position was like this:
1. If Jones escaped from Hoover's unsoothed and furious he might find his way to the American Consul or, _horror!_ to some newspaper office.
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