Spring-Heel'd Jack, The Terror of London — page 173: what you’re looking at

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il ——w— cket, to. be removed » when your violence pre- vented me. _ For shame, woman! ’’ he, added; ou ill-deserve to find your husband so far re- covered, _Had I ordered his instant remoyal to a lunatic asylum, I doubt much whether he | would be so soon restored to your arms as he is now.” Mrs. cious. : _ “T tell you he was not mad when he left me Jast evening,” she cried. . ) “T have no reason to doubt you,” said the doctor, “‘ for madness comes on in a moment, and by timely treatment meets with rapid cure. _ This, 1 am happy to say, your husband has re- ceived, and now look with what effect. Instead of being to-day a chattering idiot, ready to tear the wife of his bosom to atoms, he is well enough to be suffered to go at large, and will doubtless Levy looked half-surprised, Bale spset remember with gratitude those who have done|. so much for him, Psha! woman, do you think if he had not been out of his mind we would have taken so much trouble with him? . We have too many real eases of, madness to attend +o on this point, to wish to treat asane manas g madman.” | : “ But I was not mad,” cried Levy. . “My good sir, you know nothing about. it,” said the doctor. ‘“ Did ever a man admit that he was mad in his life? or is a madman compe- tent to judge for himself? There, now, Pll undo the jacket, for there is now no further danger to be apprehended. A few hours ago, and you would have dashed your own brains out, but the fit is passed, and I sincerely hope it will never more return.” aca i And I, too,” groaned Levy. “But I don’t believe I was mad ; curse me if I do.” _“ Don’t think about it, or you will have a re- lapse. Endeavour to prevent a thought of it crossing your brain ; for though you are, compa- ratively speaking, right now, the thought may pray upon you mind, and—oh, there’s the jacket off ; now let me lift you up.” ““Oh! oh!” groaned Levy. _ “ What’s the matter ?”’ My neck—oh, my neck.” ‘Oh, that’s nothing ; see the relief that blis- ter has given you. A little smarting, but that will soon go off.” “Damn the thing. I wish it had never been on.” Don’t say that,’’ cried the doctor. “ There, hold up your legs, and let me remove the poul- tices. What a wonderful deal of good they have done you. There’sa virtue in mustard, that’ —— “ Blast the mustard! I’m sore up all my legs, and shan’t be able to walk for amonth. ‘Take thein off and let. me go.” | | ‘The fit’s coming on him again,” said the doc- tor. “If he is not-more calm, he must remain where he is, for it would be dangerous for him to be at large.”’ A change came over the features of Isaac Levy. Those few words of the doctor made him fear that if he said anything further of, an angry nature, he would not be suffered to depart with his wife, so he exclaimed, in a pleading voice— “No, no! [’m calm now—quite calm, Let me ~ go—do let me go with my Rachel,” eo — e * SPRING-HEEL'D JACK: THE TERROR OF. LONDON. ~ Oh, let him go, let. him go,” cried Rachel, i@ answer to her husband’s imploring look. ~ Of course, ifthe fit goes off.. Perhaps it will as he gets dressed.” His clothes;;which had been. dried, were placed by his side, and, with the assistance of his wife, spite of the shaking of his limbs, he . quickly robed himself. | In. a few minutes he was outside the work- house door with Rachel, not having uttered another word till he found himself in the street ; but when the door had closed behind them, Isaac shook his clenched fist at it, and uttered a bitter oath, then slowly and painfully hobbled away with his wife. CHAPTER LXI, JACK IN THE CELLAR.—THE THIEF DISCOVERED AND TRAPPED. c ; 7 . “Tats a drop of good stuff, sir, and courses through the veins like a stream of pleasure. I’ve had that in my cellar. for eighteen years. It sparkles like diamonds, and I don’t believe if you search London through you could get a better glass of wine.” } Such were the words addressed to our hero, who, having entered an hotel in the west of London, had ordered a bottle of old wine, and after the proprietor, who had waited upon him, had drawn the cork, was politely requested to take a glass, which he did, and after smacking his ‘lips like a connoisseur, gave utterance totheabove. Jack sipped from his glass, and, placing it on the table, said— } | “You are right, Mr. Larkin; it is, indeed, very fine. Have you much left of it?” “ Ab, sir, that’s what grieves me. Ihave not much left. The fact is, sir, there’s a thief about my establishment, and scarce a night passes but wine and spirits are purloined from the vaults,” “Have you no idea who it is ?” “Not the least.” ) *“Do you not suspect ?” “I do not like to suspect anyone, and yet L suspect all.” “Do you keep no watch ?” “T have kept watch till Lam tired, but with- out success,” was the reply. “< Very strange.” “Tt is, indeed, sir; and if you only knew the extent to which I am victimised I’m sure you would pity me.” “And you can adopt no means by which to trace the culprit ?” ‘“ None, sir; and I am the more annoyed at not being able to do so when I think what an unpleasant thing it must be for the honest portion of my servants to feel that their every action is watched, and that they are open to suspicion.” “Tt must, said Jack, “be a very painful thing for them, and hence it behoves. you the more to use every endeavour to bring the guilty to punishment. Surely something could be done— some trace must be left ?’’ The man shook his head. “T would undertake to find out the culprit, I think,” said Jack. “Tf you could,,.sir, you would do more than a Sn (GO) | O}ONO) COMING