CHAPTER XXXIV.
MR. FOGG FINDS THAT ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS.
We feel that we ought not entirely to take leave of that unfortunate, who failed in escaping with Tobias Ragg, from Mr. Fogg's establishment at Peckham, without a passing notice. It will be recollected that Tobias had enough to do to get away himself, and that he was in such a state of mind that it was quite a matter of new mechanical movement of his limbs that enabled him to fly from the madhouse. Horror of the place, and dread of the people who called it theirs, had lighted up the glare of a partial insanity in his brain, and he flew to London, we admit, without casting another thought upon the wretched creature who had fallen in the attempt to free herself from those fiends in human shape who made a frightful speculation in the misery of their fellow creatures. The alarm was already spread in the madhouse, and Mr. Fogg himself arrived at the spot where the poor creature lay stunned and wounded by her fall.
"Watson! Watson!" he cried.
"Here," said that official, as he presented himself.
"Take this carcase up, Watson. I'm afraid Todd's boy is gone."
"Ha! ha!"
"Why do you laugh?"
"Why where's the odds if he has. I tell you what it is, Fogg, I haven't been here so long without knowing what's what. If that boy ever recovers his senses enough to tell a rational tale, I'll eat him. However, I'll soon go and hunt him up. We'll have him again."
"Well, Watson, you give me hopes, for you have upon two different occasions brought back runaways. Bring the woman in and—and, Watson?
"Aye, aye."