Leave little Jack with me!I'll send him home safe and sound--I feel like a father to him."The doctor hesitated.What was he to do?Jack had already returned to the cell in which his mistress lay.To remove him by the brutal exercise of main force was a proceeding from which Doctor Dormann's delicacy of feeling naturally recoiled--to say nothing of the danger of provoking that outbreak of madness against which the doctor had himself warned Mr.
Keller.Persuasion he had already tried in vain.Delegated authority to control Jack had not been conferred on him.There seemed to be no other course than to yield.
"If you persist in your obstinacy,"he said to Jack,"I must return alone to Mr.Keller's house,and tell him that I have left you here with your friend."Jack was already absorbed in his own thoughts.He only repeated vacantly,"Good-night."Doctor Dormann left the room.Schwartz looked in at his guest."Wait there for the present,"he said."The porter will be here directly:Idon't want him to see you."
The porter came in after an interval."All right for the night?"he asked.
"All right,"Schwartz answered.
The porter withdrew in silence.The night-watchman's reply was his authority for closing the gates of the Deadhouse until the next morning.
Schwartz returned to Jack--still watching patiently by the side of the couch."Was she a relation of yours?"he asked.
"All the relations in the world to me!"Jack burst out passionately.
"Father and mother--and brother and sister and wife.""Aye,aye?Five relations in one is what I call an economical family,"said Schwartz."Come out here,to the table.You stood treat last time--my turn now.I've got the wine handy.Yes,yes--she was a fine woman in her time,I dare say.Why haven't you put her into a coffin like other people?""Why?"Jack repeated indignantly."I couldn't prevent them from bringing her here;but I could have burnt the house down over their heads,if they had dared to put her into a coffin!Are you stupid enough to suppose that Mistress is dead?Don't you know that I'm watching and waiting here till she wakes?Ah!I beg your pardon--you don't know.The rest of them would have let her die.I saved her life.Come here,and I'll tell you how."He dragged Schwartz into the cell.As the watchman disappeared from view,the wild white face of Madame Fontaine appeared between the curtains of her hiding-place,listening to Jack's narrative of the opening of the cupboard,and the discovery that had followed.
Schwartz humored his little friend (evidently,as he now concluded,his crazy little friend),by listening in respectful silence.Instead of making any remark at the end,he mentioned once more that the wine was handy."Come!"he reiterated;"come to the table!"Madame Fontaine drew back again behind the curtains.Jack remained obstinately in the cell."I mean to see it,"he said,"the moment she moves.""Do you think your eyes will tell you?"Schwartz remonstrated."You look dead-beat already;your eyes will get tired.Trust the bell here,over the door.Brass and steel don't get tired;brass and steel don't fall asleep;brass and steel will ring,and call you to her.Take a rest and a drink."These words reminded Jack of the doctor's experiment with the alarm-bell.
He could not disguise from himself the stealthily-growing sense of fatigue in his head and his limbs."I'm afraid you're right,"he said sadly."I wish I was a stronger man."He joined Schwartz at the table,and dropped wearily into the watchman's chair.
His head sank on his breast,his eyes closed.He started up again."She may want help when she wakes!"he cried,with a look of terror."What must we do?Can we carry her home between us?Oh!Schwartz,I was so confident in myself a little while since--and it seems all to have left me now!""Don't worry that weary little head of yours about nothing,"Schwartz answered,with rough good-nature."Come along with me,and I'll show you where help's to be got when help's wanted.No!no!you won't be out of hearing of the bell--if it rings.We'll leave the door open.It's only on the other side of the passage here."He lighted a lantern,and led Jack out.
Leaving the courtyard and the waiting-room on their left hand,he advanced along the right-hand side of the passage,and opened the door of a bed-chamber,always kept ready for use.A second door in the bed-chamber led to a bath-room.Here,opposite the bath,stood the cabinet in which the restorative applications were kept,under the care of the overseer.
When the two men had gone out,Madame Fontaine ventured into the Watchman's Chamber.Her eyes turned towards the one terrible cell,at the farther end of the row of black curtains.She advanced towards it;and stopped,lifting her hands to her head in the desperate effort to compose herself.
The terror of impending discovery had never left her,since Jack had owned the use to which he had put the contents of the blue-glass bottle.
Animated by that all-mastering dread,she had thrown away every poison in the medicine-chest--had broken the bottles into fragments--and had taken those fragments out with her,when she left the house to follow Doctor Dormann.On the way to the cemetery,she had scattered the morsels of broken glass and torn paper on the dark road outside the city gate.
Nothing now remained but the empty medicine-chest,and the writing in cipher,once rolled round the poison called the "Looking-Glass Drops."Under these altered circumstances,she had risked asking Doctor Dormann to interpret the mysterious characters,on the bare chance of their containing some warning by which she might profit,in her present ignorance of the results which Jack's ignorant interference might produce.