Spring-Heel'd Jack, The Terror of London — page 172: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

174 SPRING-HEEL D JACK: to the insane ward) of the establishment, into which he ushered the lady. The moment she entered the ahem she! was assailed with— ‘Rachel! oh! Rachel you have come to deliver me from the hands of the Philistines!’ As these words met her ears, Rachel’s eyes wandered in the direction whence the words came, and she sprang forward with more agility than could have been expected in one bordering on sixty years of age, and paused. opposite Bae bed from which the voice had come. A look of blank surprise came over her face, and ere she could recover, Levy, whom the strait-jacket held powerless to rise, gener out— ‘“¢ Rachel, I am here—here, Rachel! % | “ That voice !’” she cried. They say ’m mad, but you know: I’m not, Rachel ; you can swearit. It’salla lie! They are killing me—murdering me! ! Oh! save me! Wife of my bosom—save me! ’ Mrs. Levy looked wildly at a prostrate man, then uttered a loud scream, swayed about for a moment, and fell upon her knees beside the bed. F My—my husband!*’ she gasped. ‘* My Isaac!” “ Your Isaac!’’ he cried ; your Isaac—your husband ”’ The doctor at this moment came to the bed- side. “Ts the fit on him again, sir?’’ he asked of the master. © ‘The fit be damned!” roared Levy. ‘“ You blood-thirsty devils, let me go away with my wife. I’m not mad! you know I’m not mad! Rachel knows I’m not mad !” Ob! oh! oh!” groaned Rachel. ‘‘ Where— where’s your hair—your beautiful hair!” eS They’ ve shaved it off; blistered my neck and legs,”’ Rachel flung up her arms, gave a loud shriek, and, throwing herself on the bed, cried out— “ Murder ! You shan’t kill my husband ! He’s—he’s—oh! you've ruined him and me—me ! Oh! my Isaac—my Isaac!” The master drew the doctor aside. “Sir,” he said, ‘‘ what do you think of this ?” The doctor scratched his head, looked sheep- ish, and replied— “T believe we have been sold—that the fellow is what he represented himself to be, and that he is no more mad than you or [ am.’ ‘* You do ?”’ TT do.” ‘*'That’s my opinion ; but what’s to be done ?” ** Let him go away with his wife.” “ But the disgrace. Your reputation, sir,as a medical man, what of that ?” asked the master. “Were ‘he ‘a Christian ‘I I should dread the bother that he would make,” answered the doctor ; “but, sir, as he is a Jew, I doubt not I can buy his silence.” ‘“What ! after, shaving his head—laying his’ bald pate in ice—bleedine his neck—poulticing ' his calves—lancing his arms—leeching his tem- ples—confining his body in a strait-jacket, and foreing a pailful of medicine down his throat! By m y soul, sir, if a Jew will sell his silence and forgiveness ‘after such treatment, he’d kill his’ father, eat his mother, bui'n his childr en, sell his “you know I am Se ———— ee -_——-__— ‘THE TERROR OF LONDON: wife ‘for a slave, and his own soul ‘bootha, “I ‘ I wash my hands of this affair, sir. My) | devil! duty was to admit him into the house; yours to, see that he was mad before you treated him as) such. sd ‘J ith “ett And the master turned away, and) left, the ward and the doctor to get out of the mess ag, best he could. ) u ‘The medical gentleman: scratched: his’ head d and looked anything but comfortable; Mrs. Levy groaned aloud, and Mr. Levy: kept oT lady company. The other inmates of the ward, of which iat were two, amused themselves in different ways; > one laughed, the other cried, and a more melan- » choly scene could scarce bé imainéd. oO “Tl go to a magistrate,” at iength srisfi ‘die [ lady, pushing back her thin hair from her fore- head ; “I'll see if they shall serve you like this, the inhuman Philistines. I’ll let’em see whether » my husband is to be set down as mad, and treated in this shameful manner. ‘PIT | oh, you villain !—you villain !” " And the old lady shook her elenthed ers in the face of the young doctor, and sone her foot with vehemence. ““My good woman,” began the doctor; anxious: : to appease her. “T’m not a good woman,’ interrupted the! lady, quickly and fiercely. “‘I’m not a good | woman; but if I'am a Jewess, Id like to see the Gentile that would do as he likes with my husband. I’m not mad, nor you can’t say I am, and TU—WL ll—oh you wretch—you wretch— you—you—you’ The fury of the old lady’s temper ohabildd her further utterance, and she placed her hands on > her hips, and shaking her head, looked savagely into the doctor's face. ‘My dear soul ”—— ‘Don’t dear me—don’t, now, or I'll teak your | eyes out!” she yelled. “You monster, you ° wretch, you viper, you dog of a Christian, ‘to. hurt my Isaac in this way. Look at his head— | look at his neck. Oh, you villain!” ‘i | The poor doctor looked anything but com- fortable, and inwardly cursed himself for being | imposed upon as he had been by our hero. Hy Isaac’s violence. In vain he tried to think of some means to appease the old lady’s wrath, and ensure the silence of her husband. ‘‘“Do you mean to tell me he’s mad?” xh le cried, at length. | in oN o,” said the doctor ; “but ’—— t0"8 “But what?” “The treatment he has received at my bina instead of meriting your displeasure, should cause you to be grateful, Peace now, and histen to me.’ And the doctor assumed a severe air, as he | held up his hand to enjoin her to silence. — “As I said, your husband is not now mad, pF he continued. | ‘3 ‘* And never wa’,”’ she cried. | AW “I beg your pardon. I say he was mad last, night, and, but for the treatment*he has received here, would. be mad to-day. Fortunately, the means adopted have brought him to aa‘ tional state, and I was about to order the strait.’ — weomichook : — - a . —-ill 7 : ee ee ee =