The medium was struggling on the floor, in what looked like an epileptic fit, and Johnson and another warder were holding him from doing an injury to himself.
The younger man welcomed my appearance with relief.
"Heerd him guggling," he said, "and thought as something were up. You come timely, sir."
More assistance was procured, and I ordered the prisoner's removal to the infirmary. For a minute, before following him, I was left alone with Johnson.
"It came to a climax, then?" I said, looking the man steadily in the face.
"He may be subject to 'em, sir", he replied, evasively.
I walked deliberately up to the closed door of the adjoining cell, which was the last on that side of the corridor. Huddled against the massive end wall, and half imbedded in it, as it seemed, it lay in a certain shadow, and bore every sign of dust and disuse. Looking closely, I saw that the trap in the door was not only firmly bolted, but screwed into its socket.
I turned and said to the warder quietly,—
"Is it long since this cell was in use?"
"You're very fond of asking questions", he answered doggedly.