Chapter LXIV
As O'Brien said; it's a long lane that has no turning--I am rescued, andhappiness pours in upon me as fast as misery before overwhelmed me.
The shock was too great--I fell back on my pillow insensible. How long Ilaid, I know not, but when I recovered the keeper was gone, and I founda jug of water and some bread by the side of the bed, I drank the water,and the effect it had upon me was surprising. I felt that I could getup, and I rose: my arms had been unpinioned during my swoon. I got on myfeet, and staggered to the window. I looked out, saw the bright sun, thepassers-by, the houses opposite--all looked cheerful and gay, but I wasa prisoner in a madhouse. Had I been mad? I reflected, and supposed thatI had been, and had been confined by those who knew nothing of me. Itnever came into my head that my uncle had been a party to it. I threwmyself on the bed, and relieved myself with tears. It was about noonthat the medical people, attended by the keepers and others, came intomy apartment. "Is he quite quiet?" "O Lord! yes, sir, as quiet as alamb," replied the man who had before entered. I then spoke to themedical gentleman, begging him to tell why, and how, I had been broughthere. He answered mildly and soothingly, saying that I was there at thewish of my friends, and that every care would be taken of me; that hewas aware that my paroxysms were only occasional, and that, during thetime I was quiet, I should have every indulgence that could be granted,and that he hoped that I soon should be perfectly well, and be permittedto leave the hospital. I replied by stating who I was, and how I hadbeen taken ill. The doctor shook his head, advised me to lie down asmuch as possible, and then quitted me to visit the other patients.
As I afterwards discovered, my uncle had had me confined upon the pleathat I was a young man who was deranged with an idea that his name wasSimple, and that he was the heir to the title and estates; that I wasvery troublesome at times, forcing my way into his house and insultingthe servants, but in every other respect was harmless; that my paroxysmsgenerally ended in a violent fever, and it was more from the fear of mycoming to some harm, than from any ill-will towards the poor young man,that he wished me to remain in the hospital, and be taken care of. Thereader may at once perceive the art of this communication: I, having noidea why I was confined, would of course continue to style myself by mytrue name; and as long as I did this, so long would I be considered in aderanged state. The reader must not therefore be surprised when I tellhim that I remained in Bedlam for one year and eight months. The doctorcalled upon me for two or three days, and finding me quiet, ordered meto be allowed books, paper, and ink, to amuse myself; but every attemptat explanation was certain to be the signal for him to leave myapartment. I found, therefore, not only by him, but from the keeper, whopaid no attention to anything I said, that I had no chance of beinglistened to, or of obtaining my release.
After the first month, the doctor came to me no more: I was a quietpatient, and he received the report of the keeper. I was sent there withevery necessary document to prove that I was mad; and, although a verylittle may establish a case of lunacy, it requires something very strongindeed to prove that you are in your right senses. In Bedlam I found itimpossible. At the same time I was well treated, was allowed allnecessary comforts, and such amusement as could be obtained from books,&c. I had no reason to complain of the keeper--except that he was toomuch employed to waste his time in listening to what he did not believe.I wrote several letters to my sister and to O'Brien, during the firsttwo or three months, and requested the keeper to put them in the post.This he promised to do, never refusing to take the letters; but, as Iafterwards found out, they were invariably destroyed. Yet I still boreup with the hopes of release for some time; but the anxiety relative tomy sister, when I thought of her situation, my thoughts of Celeste andof O'Brien, sometimes quite overcame me; then, indeed, I would almostbecome frantic, and the keeper would report that I had had a paroxysm.After six months I became melancholy, and I wasted away. I no longerattempted to amuse myself, but sat all day with my eyes fixed uponvacancy. I no longer attended to my person; I allowed my beard to grow--my face was never washed, unless mechanically, when ordered by thekeeper; and if I was not mad, there was every prospect of my soonbecoming so. Life passed away as a blank--I had become indifferent toeverything--I noted time no more--the change of seasons was unperceived--even the day and the night followed without my regarding them.
I was in this unfortunate situation, when one day the door was opened,and, as had been often the custom during my imprisonment, visitors weregoing round the establishment, to indulge their curiosity, in witnessingthe degradation of their fellow-creatures, or to offer theircommiseration. I paid no heed to them, not even casting up my eyes."This young man," said the medical gentleman who accompanied the party,"has entertained the strange idea that his name is Simple, and that heis the rightful heir to the title and property of Lord Privilege."
One of the visitors came up to me, and looked me in the face. "And so heis," cried he to the doctor, who looked with astonishment. "Peter, don'tyou know me?" I started up. It was General O'Brien. I flew into hisarms, and burst into tears.
"Sir," said General O'Brien, leading me to the chair, and seating meupon it, "I tell you that _is_ Mr Simple, the nephew of Lord Privilege;and I believe, the heir to the title. If, therefore, his assertion ofsuch being the case is the only proof of his insanity, he is illegallyconfined. I am here, a foreigner, and a prisoner on parole; but I am notwithout friends. My Lord Belmore," said he, turning to another of thevisitors who had accompanied him, "I pledge you my honour that what Istate is true; and I request that you will immediately demand therelease of this poor young man."
"I assure you, sir, that I have Lord Privilege's letter," observed thedoctor.
"Lord Privilege is a scoundrel," replied General O'Brien. "But there isjustice to be obtained in this country, and he shall pay dearly for his_lettre de cachet_. My dear Peter, how fortunate was my visit to thishorrid place! I had heard so much of the excellent arrangements of thisestablishment, that I agreed to walk round with Lord Belmore; but I findthat it is abused."
"Indeed, General O'Brien, I have been treated with kindness," replied I;"and particularly by this gentleman. It was not his fault."
General O'Brien and Lord Belmore then inquired of the doctor if he hadany objection to my release.
"None whatever, my lord, even if he were insane; although I now see howI have been imposed upon. We allow the friends of any patient to removehim, if they think that they can pay him more attention. He may leavewith you this moment."
I now did feel my brain turn with the revulsion from despair to hope,and I fell back in my seat. The doctor, perceiving my condition, bled mecopiously, and laid me on the bed, where I remained more than an hour,watched by General O'Brien. I then got up, calm and thankful. I wasshaved by the barber of the establishment, washed and dressed myself,and, leaning on the general's arm, was let out. I cast my eyes upon thetwo celebrated stone figures of Melancholy and Raving Madness, as Ipassed them; I trembled, and clung more tightly to the general's arm,was assisted into the carriage, and bade farewell to madness and misery.The general said nothing until we approached the hotel where he resided,in Dover-street, and then he inquired, in a low voice, whether I couldbear more excitement.
"It is Celeste you mean, general?"
"It is, my dear boy; she is here;" and he squeezed my hand.
"Alas!" cried I, "what hopes have I now of Celeste?"
"More than you had before," replied the general. "She lives but for you;and if you are a beggar, I have a competence to make you sufficientlycomfortable."
I returned the general's pressure of the hand, but could not speak. Wedescended, and in a minute I was led by the father into the arms of theastonished daughter.
I must pass over a few days, during which I had almost recovered myhealth and spirits, and had narrated my adventures to General O'Brienand Celeste. My first object was to discover my sister. What had becomeof poor Ellen, in the destitute condition in which she had been left Iknew no
t; and I resolved to go down to the vicarage, and make inquiries.I did not, however, set off until a legal adviser had been sent for byGeneral O'Brien, and due notice given to Lord Privilege of an action tobe immediately brought against him for false imprisonment.
I set off in the mail, and the next evening arrived at the town of----.I hastened to the parsonage, and the tears stood in my eyes as I thoughtof my mother, my poor father, and the peculiar and doubtful situation ofmy dear sister. I was answered by a boy in livery, and found the presentincumbent at home. He received me politely, listened to my story, andthen replied that my sister had set off for London on the day of hisarrival, and that she had not communicated her intentions to any one.Here, then, was all clue lost, and I was in despair. I walked to thetown in time to throw myself into the mail, and the next evening joinedCeleste and the general, to whom I communicated the intelligence, andrequested advice how to proceed.
Lord Belmore called the next morning, and the general consulted him. Hislordship took great interest in my concerns, and, previous to anyfurther steps, advised me to step into his carriage, and allow him torelate my case to the First Lord of the Admiralty. This was doneimmediately; and, as I had now an opportunity of speaking freely to hislordship, I explained to him the conduct of Captain Hawkins, and hisconnection with my uncle; also the reason of my uncle's persecution. Hislordship, finding me under such powerful protection as Lord Belmore's,and having an eye to my future claims, which my uncle's conduct gave himreason to suppose were well founded, was extremely gracious, and saidthat I should hear from him in a day or two. He kept his word, and, onthe third day after my interview, I received a note, announcing mypromotion to the rank of commander. I was delighted with this goodfortune, as was General O'Brien and Celeste.
When at the Admiralty, I inquired about O'Brien, and found that he wasexpected home every day. He had gained great reputation in the EastIndies, was chief in command at the taking of some of the islands, and,it was said, was to be created a baronet for his services. Everythingwore a favourable aspect, excepting the disappearance of my sister. Thiswas a weight on my mind I could not remove.
But I have forgotten to inform the reader by what means General O'Brienand Celeste arrived so opportunely in England. Martinique had beencaptured by our forces about six months before, and the whole of thegarrison surrendered as prisoners of war. General O'Brien was sent home,and allowed to be on parole; although born a Frenchman, he had very highconnections in Ireland, of whom Lord Belmore was one. When they arrived,they had made every inquiry for me without success; they knew that I hadbeen tried by a court-martial, and dismissed my ship, but after that, noclue could be found for my discovery.
Celeste, who was fearful that some dreadful accident had occurred to me,had suffered very much in health; and General O'Brien, perceiving howmuch his daughter's happiness depended upon her attachment for me, hadmade up his mind that if I were found we should be united. I hardly needsay how delighted he was when he discovered me, though in a situation solittle to be envied.
The story of my incarceration, of the action to be brought against myuncle, and the reports of foul play relative to the succession, had inthe meantime been widely circulated among the nobility; and I found thatevery attention was paid me, and I was repeatedly invited out as anobject of curiosity and speculation. The loss of my sister also was asubject of much interest, and many people, from goodwill, made everyinquiry to discover her. I had returned one day from the solicitor's,who had advertised for her in the newspapers without success, when Ifound a letter for me on the table, in an Admiralty enclosure. I openedit--the enclosure was one from O'Brien, who had just cast anchor atSpithead, and who had requested that the letter should be forwarded tome, if any one could tell my address. I tore it open.
"My dear Peter,--Where are, and what has become of, you? I have received no letters for these two years, and I have fretted myself to death. I received your letter about the rascally court-martial; but perhaps you have not heard that the little scoundrel is dead. Yes, Peter; he brought your letter out in his own ship, and that was his death-warrant. I met him at a private party. He brought up your name-- I allowed him to abuse you, and then told him he was a liar and a scoundrel; upon which he challenged me, very much against his will; but the affront was so public, that he couldn't help himself. Upon which I shot him, with all the good-will in the world, and could he have jumped up again twenty times, like Jack-in-the-Box, I would have shot him every time. The dirty scoundrel! but there's an end of him. Nobody pitied him, for every one hated him; and the admiral only looked grave, and then was very much obliged to me for giving him a vacancy for his nephew. By-the-bye, from some unknown hand, but I presume from the officers of his ship, I received a packet of correspondence between him and your worthy uncle, which is about as elegant a piece of rascality as ever was carried on between two scoundrels; but that's not all, Peter. I've got a young woman for you who will make your heart glad--not Mademoiselle Celeste, for I don't know where she is--but the wet-nurse who went out to India. Her husband was sent home as an invalid, and she was allowed her passage home with him in my frigate. Finding that he belonged to the regiment, I talked to him about one O'Sullivan, who married in Ireland, and mentioned the girl's name, and when he discovered that he was a countryman of mine he told me that his real name was O'Sullivan, sure enough, but that he had always served as O'Connell, and that his wife on board was the young woman in question. Upon which I sent to speak to her, and telling her that I knew all about it, and mentioning the names of Ella Flanagan and her mother, who had given me the information, she was quite astonished; and when I asked her what had become of the child which she took in place of her own, she told me that it had been drowned at Plymouth, and that her husband was saved at the same time by a young officer, 'whose name I have here,' says she; and then she pulled out of her neck your card, with Peter Simple on it. 'Now,' says I, 'do you know, good woman, that in helping on the rascally exchange of children, you ruin that very young man who saved your husband, for you deprive him of his title and property?" She stared like a stuck pig, when I said so, and then cursed and blamed herself, and declared she'd right you as soon as we came home; and most anxious she is still to do so, for she loves the very name of you; so you see, Peter, a good action has its reward sometimes in this world, and a bad action also, seeing as how I've shot that confounded villain who dared to ill-use you. I have plenty more to say to you, Peter; but I don't like writing what, perhaps, may never be read, so I'll wait till I hear from you; and then, as soon as I get through my business, we will set to and trounce that scoundrel of an uncle. I have twenty thousand pounds jammed together in the Consolidated, besides the Spice Islands, which will be a pretty penny; and every farthing of it shall go to right you, Peter, and make a lord of you, as I promised you often that you should be; and if you win you shall pay, and if you don't then d--n the luck and d--n the money too. I beg you will offer my best regards to Miss Ellen, and say how happy I shall be to hear that she is well; but it has always been on my mind, Peter, that your father did not leave too much behind him, and I wish to know how you both get on. I left you a _carte blanche _at my agent's, and I only hope that you have taken advantage of it, if required; if not, you're not the Peter that I left behind me. So now, farewell, and don't forget to answer my letter in no time. Ever yours,
"Terence O'Brien."
This was indeed joyful intelligence. I handed the letter to GeneralO'Brien, who read it, Celeste hanging over his shoulder, and perusing itat the same time.
"This is well," said the General. "Peter, I wish you joy, and Celeste, Iought to wish you joy also at your future prospects. It will indeed be agratification if ever I hail you as Lady Privilege."
"Celeste," said I, "you did not reject me when I was pennyless, and indisgrace. O my poor sister Ellen! If I could but find you, how happyshould I be!"
I sat down to write to O'Brien, acquainting him with all
that hadoccurred, and the loss of my dear sister. The day after the receipt ofmy letter, O'Brien burst into the room. After the first moments ofcongratulation were past, he said, "My heart's broke, Peter, about yoursister Ellen: find her I must. I shall give up my ship, for I'll nevergive up the search as long as I live. I must find her."
"Do, pray, my dear O'Brien, and I only wish--"
"Wish what, Peter? shall I tell you what I wish?--that if I find her,you'll give her to me for my trouble."
"As far as I am concerned, O'Brien, nothing would give me greaterpleasure; but God knows to what wretchedness and want may have compelledher."
"Shame on you, Peter, to think so of your sister. I pledge my honour forher. Poor, miserable, and unhappy she may be--but no--no, Peter. Youdon't know--you don't love her as I do, if you can allow such thoughtsto enter your mind."
This conversation took place at the window: we then turned round toGeneral O'Brien and Celeste.
"Captain O'Brien," said the general.
"Sir Terence O'Brien, if you please, general. His Majesty has given me ahandle to my name."
"I congratulate you, Sir Terence," said the general, shaking him by thehand: "what I was about to say is, that I hope you will take up yourquarters at this hotel, and we will all live together. I trust that weshall soon find Ellen: in the meanwhile we have no time to lose, in ourexposure of Lord Privilege. Is the woman in town?"
"Yes, and under lock and key; but the devil a fear of her. Millionswould not bribe her to wrong him who risked his life for her husband.She's Irish, general, to the back bone. Nevertheless, Peter, we must goto our solicitor, to give the intelligence, that he may take thenecessary steps."
For three weeks, O'Brien was diligent in his search for Ellen, employingevery description of emissary without success. In the meanwhile, thegeneral and I were prosecuting our cause against Lord Privilege. Onemorning, Lord Belmore called upon us, and asked the general if we wouldaccompany him to the theatre, to see two celebrated pieces performed. Inthe latter, which was a musical farce, a new performer was to come out,of whom report spoke highly. Celeste consented, and after an earlydinner, we joined his lordship in his private box, which was above thestage, on the first tier. The first piece was played, and Celeste, whohad never seen the performance of Young, was delighted. The curtain thendrew up for the second piece. In the second act, the new performer, aMiss Henderson, was led by the manager on the stage; she was apparentlymuch frightened and excited, but three rounds of applause gave hercourage, and she proceeded. At the very first notes of her voice I wasstartled, and O'Brien, who was behind, threw himself forward to look ather; but as we were almost directly above, and her head was turned theother way, we could not distinguish her features. As she proceeded inher song, she gained courage, and her face was turned towards us, andshe cast her eyes up--saw me--the recognition was mutual--I held out myarm, but could not speak--she staggered, and fell down in a swoon.
"'Tis Ellen!" cried O'Brien, rushing past me; and making one spring downon the stage, he carried her off, before any other person could come toher assistance. I followed him, and found him with Ellen still in hisarms, and the actresses assisting in her recovery. The manager cameforward to apologize, stating that the young lady was too ill toproceed, and the audience, who had witnessed the behaviour of O'Brienand myself, were satisfied with the romance in real life which had beenexhibited. Her part was read by another, but the piece was littleattended to, every one trying to find out the occasion of this uncommonoccurrence. In the meantime, Ellen was put into a hackney-coach byO'Brien and me, and we drove to the hotel, where we were soon joined bythe general and Celeste.
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