Christian fiction; Future life -- Fiction; Spiritualism -- Fiction
Upon discovering my predicament I was, of course, greatly disturbed. I
tried the door, and tried again; I urged the latch violently; I exerted
myself till the mere moral sense of my helplessness overcame my
strength. I called to the watchman, whose distant steps I heard, or
fancied that I heard, pacing the corridors. There was a Safe Deposit
in the basement, and the great building was heavily guarded. I shouted
for my liberty, I pleaded for it, I demanded it; but I did not get it.
No one answered me. I ran to the barred windows and shook the iron
casement as prisoners and madmen do. Nobody heard me. I bethought me
of the private telegraph which stood by Brake's desk, mute and
mysterious, like a thing that waited an order to speak. I could not
help wondering, with something like superstition, what would be the
next words which would pass the lips of the silent metal. It occurred
to me, of course, to telegraph for relief; but I did not know how, and
a kind of respect for the intelligence and power of the instrument
deterred me from meddling with it to no visible end. Suddenly I
remembered the electric signal which so often communicates with
watchman or police in places of this kind. This, after some search, I
found in a corner, over the desk of Brake's assistant, and this I
touched. My effort brought no reply. I pressed the button again with
more force and more desperation; I might say, with more personality.
"Obey me!" I cried, setting my teeth, and addressing the electric
influence as a man addresses a menial.
Instantly a thrill passed from the wire to the hand. A distant sound
jarred upon the air. Steps shuffled somewhere beyond the massive
walls. I even thought that I heard voices, as of the watchman and
others in possible consultation. No one approached the broker's door.
I urged the signal again and again. I became quite frantic, for I had
now begun to think with dismay of the effect of all this upon my wife.
I railed upon that signal like a delirious patient at the order of a
physician. A commotion seemed to follow, in some distant part of the
building. But no one came within hearing of my voice; the noise soon
ceased, and my efforts at freedom with it.
It having now become evident that I must spend the night where I was, I
proceeded to make the best of it; and a very bad best it was. I was
exhausted, I was angry, and I was distressed.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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