Debt, Imprisonment for -- Fiction; London (England) -- History -- 18th century -- Fiction
"Nay, I was but thinking--a physician must needs consider these
things--that a county gentleman, with so great an estate, would be
indeed a windfall in such an establishment as mine."
"Why, doctor, would you have all the world mad?"
"They are already," he replied; "as mad as March hares--all of them. I
would only have them in establishments, with strait-waistcoats on, and
an experienced and humane physician to reduce them by means of--those
measures which are never known to fail."
"I hope," I said seriously, because I began to fear that some violence
might have been used, "that my poor friend has been treated gently."
"We never," replied the doctor, "treat them otherwise than gently. My
fellows understand that this--ahem!--unfortunate escaped sufferer from
lunacy or dementia (because I have not yet had time to diagnose his
case with precision) is to be treated with singular forbearance. One or
two cuffs on the head, an admonition by means of a keeper's boot, he
hath doubtless received. These things are absolutely necessary: but no
collar-bones put out or ribs broken. In the case of violent patients,
ribs, as a rule, do get broken, and give trouble in the setting. Your
friend, young lady, has all his bones whole. No discipline, so far,
has been administered beyond a few buckets of water, which it was
absolutely necessary to pour over his head, out of common humanity, and
in order to calm the excessive rage into which the poor gentleman fell.
He is quite calm now, and has neither been put under the pump nor in
the tank. I have expressly ordered that there is to be no cudgelling.
And I have promised my fellows half-a-guinea apiece"--here he looked
at me with a meaning smile--"if they are gentle with him. I have told
them that there is a young lady interested in his welfare. My keepers,
I assure you, madam, have rough work to do, but they are the most
tender-hearted of men. Otherwise, they would be sent packing. And at
the sight of half-a-guinea, their hearts yearn with affection towards
the patients."
I smiled, and promised the half-guineas on the liberation of
the prisoner. Cuffs and kicks! a few buckets of cold water! a
strait-waistcoat! My poor Harry! surely this would be enough to cure
any man of his passion. And what a fitting end to a journey commenced
with the intention of killing and murdering your old playfellow's
lover! Yet, to be sure, it was a wicked thing I had done, and I
resolved to lose no time (as soon as there was no longer any fear of a
duel) in beginning to repent.
* * * * *
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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