Part 74 (2/2)
Alfred found it as hard to be calm as some people find it easy to say that word over the wrongs _of others._
The next day, but not till the afternoon, he caught the doctor: ”My letters! Surely, sir, you have not been so cruel as to intercept them?”
”I intercept no letters,” said the doctor, as if scandalised at the very idea. ”I see who writes them, and hand them to Mr. Baker, with now and then a remark. If any are detained, the responsibility rests with him.”
”He says it rests with you.”
”You must have misunderstood him.”
”Not at all, sir. One thing is clear; my letters have been stolen either by him or you; and I will know which.”
The doctor parried with a formula.
”You are _excited,_ Mr. Hardie. Be calm, sir, be calm: or you will be here all the longer.”
All Alfred obtained by this interview was a powerful opiate. The head-keeper brought it him in bed. He declined to take it. The man whistled, and the room filled with keepers.
”Now,” said Cooper, ”down with it, or you'll have to be drenched with this cowhorn.”
”You had better take it, sir,” said Brown; ”the doctor has ordered it you.”
”The doctor? Well, let me see the doctor about it.”
”He is gone.”
”He never ordered it me,” said Alfred. Then fixing his eyes sternly on Cooper, ”You miscreants, you want to poison me. No, I will not take it.
Murder! murder!”
Then ensued a struggle, on which I draw a veil: but numbers won the day, with the help of handcuffs and a cowhorn.
Brown went and told Mrs. Archbold, and what Alfred had said.
”Don't be alarmed,” said that strong-minded lady: ”it is only one of the old fool's composing draughts. It will spoil the poor boy's sleep for one night, that is all. Go to him the first thing in the morning.”
About midnight Alfred was seized with a violent headache and fever: towards morning he was light-headed, and Brown found him loud and incoherent: only he returned often to an expression Mr. Brown had never heard before--
”Justifiable parricide. Justifiable parricide. Justifiable patricide.”
Most people dislike new phrases. Brown ran to consult Mrs. Archbold about this one. After the delay inseparable from her s.e.x, she came in a morning wrapper; and they found Alfred leaning over the bed and bleeding violently at the nose. They were a good deal alarmed, and tried to stop it: but Alfred was quite sensible now, and told them it was doing him good.
”I can manage to see now,” he said; ”a little while ago I was blind with the poison.”
They unstrapped his ankle and made him comfortable, and Mrs. Archbold sent Brown for a cup of strong coffee and a gla.s.s of brandy. He tossed them off; and soon after fell into a deep sleep that lasted till tea-time. This sleep the poor doctor ascribed to the sedative effect of his opiate. It _was_ the natural exhaustion consequent on the morbid excitement caused by his cursed opiate.
”Brown,” said Mrs. Archbold, ”if Dr. Bailey prescribes again, let me know. He shan't square _this_ patient with his certificates, whilst I am here.”
This was a shrewd, but uncharitable, speech of hers. Dr. Bailey was not such a villain as that.
He was a less depraved, and more dangerous animal: he was a fool.
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