"I will consult my superior," said the porter, returning from the gate. In a few minutes he returned, and stated that he was directed to give free admission to the magistrate, and a few whom he might select to accompany him. A strange feeling came over Frank as he entered this abode of tortured spirits; for the mad-houses of those days were seldom inspected, and many a victim to avarice and villany had been confined within their walls[24]. The secrets of the "prison-house" were never disclosed, for the unhappy creatures were incarcerated for life; sometimes they would indeed be driven mad, but death alone gave them release from torment.
A respectable-looking elderly man met the party, and after apologies and explanations, announced that "Mr. Bartlett's injuries from his fall were very serious, and throughout the night he had been labouring under an attack of brain-fever, which he hoped was subsiding, though he was still subject to restraint."
"I have only the furtherance of justice in view," said Mr. Wendover; "he has been sworn to in the most positive manner, and I must see him."
"The appearance of so many persons may be hazardous to his existence," replied the other submissively; "if it is a mere matter of identity, more than two or three will not be required."
The arrangement was made, and Mr. Wendover, Mr. Peach, and Frank, were conducted through several passages, till they arrived in a part of the building where the most violent maniacs were confined; here in an apartment, whose entrance might have almost defied detection, they beheld a man in a strait-waistcoat, stretched upon a mattress upon the ground with two keepers in attendance to awe him into subjection. His countenance was haggard and flushed, and there was a tiger-like ferocity in his look, that claimed but little semblance to humanity; he was still raving, and his wild unnatural laugh thrilled with horror through the frames of the visitors. Mr. Wendover and Unity Peach were the first to enter, but he took no notice of them. Frank followed; and the moment he was visible, the individual whom they had come to see drew himself up as if his whole frame were withering with sudden blight, and he convulsively and hissingly drew his breath, like one who has suddenly been plunged into cold water.
"What! there again?" muttered he, as he fixed his gaze on Frank, whose strong likeness to his father, and in the naval uniform too, had induced a belief that the spirit of his victim stood in his presence; whilst the peculiar rolling of the man's eyes instantly betrayed that Brady was before them; "but," and he laughed wildly, "I defy you—the judge cannot take the evidence of the dead." He raised his voice—"Hence—depart, I say—no earthly tribunal can take cognizance of your oath, and so far I am safe." He turned to Peach and demanded—"Who and what are you?—how came you here?—who has dared to let you in?—speak—who are you?"
Slowly Mr. Peach removed his hat and wig, and the patch from his eye. "I knew I was right," said he: "Brady, do you know me now?"
"Well, well," returned the lawyer quietly, "this is kind of you, too—more than I expected—but how did you find me out—come, come, friend Shaft, sit down; we will not heed yon spectre," his aberration took another turn. "Ha," he shouted, "it is you who have betrayed me, old man; traitor! monster! it is you who have denounced your friend. Acteon Shaft, I defy you to the very teeth."
"It is enough that you now recognise me," responded the other; and turning to Mr. Wendover, added, "You may perceive, sir, that my information was correct."
Brady's ravings and struggles became dreadful; the attendants could with difficulty hold him down till overwrought nature brought a crisis, and he sank in strong convulsions. The young lieutenant's feelings it would be impossible to describe, as he looked upon the supposed murderer of his father, and fears began to arise that he should again be deprived of the information he so earnestly desired.