the effect it may be supposed to have upon a mere animal nature and
understanding: how could it have any other? He tried to bear it, and
could not, and uttering a stifled noise, between a yell and a moan, he
grasped his own neck: his face assumed a dark-red colour, and he fell
into a state of stifled convulsion.
* * * * *
When despair had wrought with him, I lifted him with difficulty from
the floor on which he had fallen. His relaxed features had the hue of
death, and his parched lips, from a livid blue, became of an ashy
whiteness. In appearance he was dying; and in the agitation of the
moment I poured a considerable portion of the wine which had been
left with us into a glass, and, after wetting his temples, held it
to his lips. He made an effort to swallow, and again revived to
consciousness; and holding the vessel firmly in his hands, got down
with difficulty and at intervals the entire draught. When he found it
totally exhausted, the glass fell from his hands; but he seized and
held one of mine with a grasp so firm and iron-like that the contrast
startled me. He seemed to be involved in a confused whirl of
sensations. He stared round the cell with a wildness of purpose that
was appalling; and after a time I began to see, with deep remorse,
that the wine I had unguardedly given was, as is always the case,
adding keenness to his agony and strength to his despair. He half rose
once or twice and listened; all was silent--when, after the pause of a
minute or two, a sudden fit of desperation seemed to seize upon him.
He rushed to the window, and hurriedly surveying the grates, wrenched
at them with a strength demoniac and superhuman, till the iron bars
shook in their imbedments.
From this period my recollections are vague and indistinct. I remember
strongly remonstrating with the poor creature, and being pushed away
by hands which were now bleeding profusely with the intense efforts of
his awful delirium. I remember attempting to stop him, and hanging
upon him, until the insane wretch clutched me by the throat, and a
struggle ensued, during which I suppose I must at length have fainted
or become insensible; for the contest was long, and, while
consciousness remained, terrible and appalling. My fainting, I
presume, saved my life, for the felon was in that state of maniacal
desperation which nothing but a perfect unresistingness could have
evaded.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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