“No, no,” said the doctor blandly; “but we must master ourselves when we feel that excitement leading us astray.”
“Ay, and I have mastered myself till I can do no more,” cried the young man wildly; “I escaped from Liverpool.”
“Escaped?”
“Yes, and managed to get to the train, as I thought, unseen; but at the first stopping station I saw the demons pass my carriage and look in. They had changed their dress, and disguised themselves, but I knew them at once, and that my attempts were vain. It was growing dark when we reached London, and when they took the tickets I waited till the train went on again, and then leaped for my life.”
“You leaped from the train?”
“Yes. I wonder I did not when it was at full speed, faraway in the country.”
“Hah!” ejaculated the doctor.
“I leaped from the train; but they were watching me, and they followed down the embankment and into a maze of little streets in North London yonder, where the fog and snow bewildered me; but I kept on all the evening, fearing to ask help of the police, dreading to go to an hotel for dinner. The dread, the want of sleep, have made me nearly mad. I did not know where to go, and at last, after struggling wildly to escape, I knew that my brain was going, that before long the dogs would drag me down. Then in my despair I thought of you.”
“And came here?”
“Yes, for sanctuary, doctor. Save me from these devils—save me from myself. Doctor, is this to be the end of it all? I am alone—helpless: they may be listening even now. Doctor, for God’s sake save me; I can do no more!”