A boy about sixteen years of age sat in one of the cages, with scarcely a rag to cover him, idly pulling through his fingers a bit of cord. This had been his employment for months, the keeper said. He was perfectly quiet, except the cord was taken from him; but then he would be quite frantic. The ends of his fingers were quite worn with drawing this cord between them, and it was necessary to supply him constantly with a new bit of cord. When asked why the boy remained nearly naked, the keeper said, they had never been able to devise any means to keep clothing upon him, or to find anything strong enough to resist the strength of his hands; but if allowed to remain in a state almost of nudity, and to have his bit of cord, he was perfectly quiet and contented.
These, and many more sad and horrible things, were seen and heard during their visit; but Mr. Wharton’s first object was to find her for whose sake he had undertaken this long journey. He knew her immediately, though her face was worn with trouble and sickness, and there was an intense and unnatural brightness about her eye. Her beautiful hair was unbound, and falling about her shoulders, as she sat in the farthest corner of her cage, perfectly quiet, and entirely unoccupied.
“Rhoda!” said Mr. Wharton, gently. She started, and put back her thick hair from her ear, at the sound of his familiar voice.
“Rhoda!” said he, “don’t you remember me?”
She looked at him intently, and the expression of her eye began to change.
“The children want to see you so much, Rhoda! Emily and Effie, and Agnes and little Grace.” He mentioned each name slowly and distinctly, and then spoke of his wife and the other children, and mentioned scenes and incidents connected with his home. Her eye still looked with an earnest gaze into his; her brow contracted, as if she was trying to recall some long forgotten thing; until at length, with the helplessness of an infant, she stretched her arms towards Mr. Wharton, and exclaimed, piteously:
“Oh, take me away!—take me to my home!”
“You shall go with me, Rhoda; I will not leave you here,” said Mr. Wharton; and beckoning to Dr. Masten, he left the room. As he reached the door, he heard a cry of agony, and turning, he saw Miss Edwards at the front of her cage, with both arms extended towards him through the bars, and the most agonized, imploring expression upon her face. Stepping back to her, he said:
“Rhoda, I will not leave you. Be quiet, and I will come back very soon to take you with me. Did I ever deceive you, Rhoda?”
“Oh!” said she, putting her hand to her head, “they have all deceived me. Richard deceived me! He deceived me!—oh, so cruelly! Who can I trust? They all desert me. I am all, all alone!” And she sat down; and dropping her head upon her knees, she wept very bitterly.