“What’s all this?” he said, in a sharp, grating voice. “How dare you make this uproar, sir?”
I fell back, shaking with rage. All down the row of beds pale sick faces had risen, looking on in wonder. Beside the fire my escort was still struggling with the madman.
“What right has he to be here—to come and spy upon me?” I cried.
“This is simply outrageous! Dr. Crackenthorpe” (he glanced at the newcomer with no very flattering expression) “is here to superintend the removal of a patient of his. He must be protected from insult. I rescind my permit. Johnson, see this man off the premises.”
A second attendant advanced and took me, police fashion, by the elbow. I offered no resistance. Impulse had made a fool of me, and I felt it.
The sound of the scuffle by the fire still continued. As I passed Dr. Crackenthorpe he made me a mocking bow, hat in hand. Then, waving me aside as if I were some troublesome supplicant he desired to ignore, he advanced further into the room.
Then came a sudden thud and loud exclamation, at which both I and my attendant turned.
The madman had bested his enemy and dashed him to the floor. A moment then he paused, his gasping mouth and pale eyes indicative of his terror of the man approaching—a moment only, and he turned and fled. I was conscious of a sudden breaking out of voices—of a fearful screech ringing above them—of a hurried rush of shapes—of a bound and crash and shattering snap of glass. It all happened in an instant, and there was a jagged and gaping fissure in a window at the end of the room—and George White was gone.
CHAPTER XLIX.
A QUIET WARNING.
I fully expected to be summoned as a witness to the inquest held on George White. However, as it turned out, they left me alone, and for that I was thankful, though indeed I had little to fear from any cross-examination; and Dr. Crackenthorpe would hardly have ventured under the circumstances to use his professional influence to my discomfiture, seeing that I had shown knowledge of the fact that between him and the dead man was once, at least, some species of understanding. So he gave his version of the affair, without any reference to me, who indeed could hardly in any way be held responsible for the catastrophe.