Joseph Wilmot, or, The Memoirs of a Man-Servant — page 355: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

emer ae aN Le ee eee ee JOSEPH WILMOTs; OR, THE MEMOIRS OF A MAN-SERVANT. 342 into an avenue intersecting a lawn, and leading up to a mansion of considerable dimensions. I there- fore supposed that Mr. Granby must be a gentle- man of fortune. * Now, Mr. Wilmot,” he said, stepping forth as the footman opened the carriage-door, “ have the kindness to follow me.” I was trembling all over; for I said to myself, “In a few moments I shall doubtless stand in the presence of those who are now in some sense the arbiters of my destiny !” My heart beat violently: I was agitated with that suspenseful sensation which seizes upon an individual when believing himself to be on the threshold of an important crisis in his existence. I followed Mr. Granby into a spacious hall, where two porters in handsome liveries were stationed ; and the unnamed friend who had accompanied us in the carriage, entered immediately after me. Mr Granby led the way into a well furnished parlour and requested me to be seated. He sate down at a short distance—while his friend, placing himself still farther off, took up a newspaper, with the contents of which he appeared suddenly to become deeply interested. Eccleston were not in this apartment. “My dear Mr. Wilmot,” said Granby, “ you have friends who take a very great interest in your welfare A ** You mean the Karl and Countess P” I said, in a tremulous voice: for I conceived this to be an- other considerate preparation for the crowning event. “Friends who take a very great interest in your welfare,” repeated Mr. Grauby. “ They have en- listed my sympathies on your behalf “It is exceedingly kind of you,” I said, “ to take all this trouble Me “No trouble, my dear sir!” interjected Mr. Granby: “ it is to a certain extent a duty.” “ Doubtless your friendship for the Earl has led you to regard it in this generous light :’—and I continued to speak with the feverish agitation of suspense. : “In me you behold a friend,” proceeded Mr. Granby ; “and I have therefore invited you to pass a short time with me at my residence—where every attention will be shown you, and where you will find ample means for recreation and amuse- ment,” . “Is it the Harl’s wish that I should remain here for awhile after the interview whichis now to take place ?” I inquired with a strange sense of bewil- derment. *“'Yes—by his express wish,” replied Mr. Granby. “ Now pray don’t excite yourself: but I think we must postpone fora few days that interview to which you have just alluded a “ Postpone it!” I ejaculated, struck by the con- viction that I was now being trifled with: and I started from my seat. At that instant a cry so wild and terrible rang through the entire building ; and though evidently coming from some remote part of the premises, it pierced the walls of the room in which I found myself, as if they were of paper. ‘That ery, so wild and mournful, rang through my brain, and struck terror to my heart. I flung a rapid look of inquiry upon Mr. Granby: but to my astonishment he appeared utterly unmoyed—while But the Earl and Countess of his unnamed friend went on reading the news- paper with as much calmness as if nothing strange nor unusual had occurred. “ Pray sit down, Mr. Wilmot,” said Granby: “it is only an unfortunate friend of mine—an in- valid—a—a ze “One word, sir!” I exclaimed. and Countess of Eccleston here ?” “ Are the Earl “T thought I had already given you to under. » >? stand | “That they are not?” I ejaculated. “Then, sir, I decline accepting the home with which they have sought to provide me; and I am sorry that you should have had all this trouble.” Thus speaking, I bowed and turned towards the door: but to my surprise and indignation, I per- ceived that Mr. Granby’s friend, having glided from his seat, had posted himself with his back against that door. “Stand aside!’ I exclaimed. bar my passage !” * Mr. Wilmot,” said Granby, “it is useless for you to excite yourself. Here you are—and hero you must remain for the present. Any violence on your part ? “Good God!” I exclaimed, as a sickening, maddening suspicion flashed in unto my brain— and I reeled beneath its withering, blighting in- fluence. “ Where am 1? for heaven’s sake tell me where I am P” “Where you will be taken care of,” responded Granby, “and the state of your mind improved.” “A lunatic-asylum!” I murmured in a dying voice: and staggering towards the sofa, 1 burst into tears. 3 You shall not CHAPTER CXLIX. THE LUNATIC-ASYLUM, EVERYTHING was now plain to me: I saw that I had been made the victim of a fearful, hideous, diabolical treachery. Those two men—Olding and Joyce—whom I had taken for lawyers, were in reality medical practitioners; and they had signed the requisite certificate which was to plunge me into a mad-house. They had been led to believe that I cherished delusions with regard to the Karl and Countess of Eccleston—that without the slightest cause I had fancied that I was the object of their bitter persecution—that I wandered about the world in a state which unfitted me to be thus at large—that I insanely plunged into adventures of all sorts—and that I regarded myself as a modern Quixote whose duty it was to redress wrongs and frustrate the schemes of eyvil-doers, Ah! now I comprehended full well wherefore Olding and Joyce had questioned me in the way which they had done; and I could not blind my- self to the fact that my excitement on the occasion of their visits must have seemed to corroborate the assurance previously given to them that my brain was unsettled on particular points. And then, too, I recollected the peculiar manner in which Joyce had held me by the wrist:—it was in order that he might feel my pulse. Good heavens! had I by my own unguarded conduct and folly thus aided the designs of the Earl of Eccleston who had re- solyed to immure me in a mad-house ? ElO@O) .S (C(O)