Part 57 (2/2)
”Is this; where the patient is possessor of an income of such a character as to enable his friends to show a sincere affection by antic.i.p.ating the consequences of neglected morbid phenomena of the brain, there a lamentable want of humanity is exhibited by the persistent refusal to the patient, on the part of his relatives, of the incalculable advantage of the authoritative advice of a competent physician accompanied with the safeguards and preventives of----”
But ere the mellifluous pleonast had done oiling his paradox with fresh polysyllables, to make it slip into the banker's narrow understanding, he met with a curious interruption. Jane Hardie fluttered in to say a man was at the door accusing himself of being deranged.
”How often this sort of coincidence occurs,” said Osmond philosophically.
”Do not refuse him, dear papa; it is not for money: he only wants you to give him an order to go into a lunatic asylum.”
_”Now, there is a sensible man,_” said Dr. Wycherley.
”Well, but,” objected Mr. Hardie, ”if he is a sensible man, why does he want to go to an asylum?”
”Oh, they are all sensible at times,” observed Mr. Osmond.
_”Singularly so,_” said Dr. Wycherley, warmly. And he showed a desire to examine this paragon, who had the sense to know he was out of his senses.
”It would be but kind of you, sir,” said Jane; ”poor, poor man!” She added, he did not like to come in, and would they mind just going out to him?
”Oh no, not in the least: especially as you seem interested in him.”
And they all three rose and went out together, and found the pet.i.tioner at the front door. Who should it be but James Maxley!
His beard was unshaven, his face haggard, and everything about him showed a man broken in spirit as well as fortune: even his voice had lost half its vigour, and, whenever he had uttered a consecutive sentence or two, his head dropped on his breast pitiably: indeed, this sometimes occurred in the middle of a sentence, and then the rest of it died on his lips.
Mr. Richard Hardie was not prepared to encounter one of his unhappy creditors thus publicly, and, to shorten the annoyance, would have dismissed him roughly: but he dared not; for Maxley was no longer alone nor unfriended. When Jane left him to intercede for him, a young man joined him, and was now comforting him with kind words, and trying to get him to smoke a cigar; and this good-hearted young gentleman was the banker's son in the flesh, and his opposite in spirit, Mr. Alfred Hardie.
Finding these two in contact, the Doctors interchanged demurest glances.
Mr. Hardie asked Maxley sullenly what he wanted of them.
”Well, sir,” said Maxley despondingly, ”I have been to all the other magistrates in the borough; for what with losing my money, and what with losing my missus, I think I bain't quite right in my head; I do see such curious things, enough to make a body's skin creep at times.” And down went his head on his chest.
”Well?” said Mr. Hardie, peevishly: ”go on: you went to the magistrates, and what then?”
Maxley looked up, and seemed to recover the thread: ”Why they said 'no,'
they couldn't send me to the 'sylum, not from home: I must be a pauper first. So then my neighbours they said I had better come to you.” And down went his head again.
”Well, but,” said Mr. Hardie, ”you cannot expect me to go against the other magistrates.”
”Why not, sir? You have had a hatful o' money of me: the other gentlemen han't had a farthing. They owes me no service, but you does: nine hundred pounds' worth, if ye come to that.”
There was no malice in this; it was a plain broken-hearted man's notion of give and take; but it was a home-thrust all the same; and Mr. Hardie was visibly discountenanced, and Alfred more so.
Mr. Osmond, to relieve a situation so painful, asked Maxley rather hastily what were the curious things he saw.
Maxley shuddered. ”The unreasonablest beasts, sir, you ever saw or heard tell on: mostly snakes and dragons. Can't stoop my head to do no work for them, sir. Bless your heart, if I was to leave you gentlemen now, and go and dig for five minutes in my garden, they would come about me as thick as slugs on cabbage. Why 'twas but yester'en I tried to hoe a bit, and up come the fearfullest great fiery sarpint: scared me so I heaved my hoe and laid on un' properly: presently I seemed to come out of a sort of a kind of a red mist into the clear: and there laid my poor missus's favourite hen; I had been and killed her for a sarpint!” He sighed, then, after a moment's pause, lowered his voice to a whisper: ”Now suppose I was to go and take some poor Christian for one of these gre-at b.l.o.o.d.y dragons I do see at odd times, I might do him a mischief, you know, and not mean him no harm neither. Oh, dooee take and have me locked up, gentlemen, dooee now: tellee I ain't fit to be about, my poor head is so mazed.”
”Well, well,” said Mr. Hardie, ”I'll give you an order for the Union.”
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