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eyes which we always see when a madman has seized an idea, and with it
the shifty movement of the head and back which asylum attendants come to
know so well. He became quite quiet, and went and sat on the edge of his
bed resignedly, and looked into space with lack-lustre eyes. I thought I
would find out if his apathy were real or only assumed, and tried to
lead him to talk of his pets, a theme which had never failed to excite
his attention. At first he made no reply, but at length said testily:--
"Bother them all! I don't care a pin about them."
"What?" I said. "You don't mean to tell me you don't care about
spiders?" (Spiders at present are his hobby and the note-book is filling
up with columns of small figures.) To this he answered enigmatically:--
"The bride-maidens rejoice the eyes that wait the coming of the bride;
but when the bride draweth nigh, then the maidens shine not to the eyes
that are filled."
He would not explain himself, but remained obstinately seated on his bed
all the time I remained with him.
I am weary to-night and low in spirits. I cannot but think of Lucy, and
how different things might have been. If I don't sleep at once, chloral,
the modern Morpheus--C_{2}HCl_{3}O. H_{2}O! I must be careful not to let
it grow into a habit. No, I shall take none to-night! I have thought of
Lucy, and I shall not dishonour her by mixing the two. If need be,
to-night shall be sleepless....
* * * * *
_Later._--Glad I made the resolution; gladder that I kept to it. I had
lain tossing about, and had heard the clock strike only twice, when the
night-watchman came to me, sent up from the ward, to say that Renfield
had escaped. I threw on my clothes and ran down at once; my patient is
too dangerous a person to be roaming about. Those ideas of his might
work out dangerously with strangers. The attendant was waiting for me.
He said he had seen him not ten minutes before, seemingly asleep in his
bed, when he had looked through the observation-trap in the door. His
attention was called by the sound of the window being wrenched out. He
ran back and saw his feet disappear through the window, and had at once
sent up for me. He was only in his night-gear, and cannot be far off.
The attendant thought it would be more useful to watch where he should
go than to follow him, as he might lose sight of him whilst getting out
of the building by the door. He is a bulky man, and couldn't get through
the window. I am thin, so, with his aid, I got out, but feet foremost,
and, as we were only a few feet above ground, landed unhurt. The
attendant told me the patient had gone to the left, and had taken a
straight line, so I ran as quickly as I could. As I got through the belt
of trees I saw a white figure scale the high wall which separates our
grounds from those of the deserted house.
I ran back at once, told the watchman to get three or four men
immediately and follow me into the grounds of Carfax, in case our friend
might be dangerous. I got a ladder myself, and crossing the wall,
dropped down on the other side. I could see Renfield's figure just
disappearing behind the angle of the house, so I ran after him. On the
far side of the house I found him pressed close against the old
ironbound oak door of the chapel. He was talking, apparently to some
one, but I was afraid to go near enough to hear what he was saying, lest
I might frighten him, and he should run off. Chasing an errant swarm of
bees is nothing to following a naked lunatic, when the fit of escaping
is upon him! After a few minutes, however, I could see that he did not
take note of anything around him, and so ventured to draw nearer to
him--the more so as my men had now crossed the wall and were closing him
in. I heard him say:--
"I am here to do Your bidding, Master. I am Your slave, and You will
reward me, for I shall be faithful. I have worshipped You long and afar
off. Now that You are near, I await Your commands, and You will not pass
me by, will You, dear Master, in Your distribution of good things?"
He _is_ a selfish old beggar anyhow. He thinks of the loaves and fishes
even when he believes he is in a Real Presence. His manias make a
startling combination. When we closed in on him he fought like a tiger.
He is immensely strong, for he was more like a wild beast than a man. I
never saw a lunatic in such a paroxysm of rage before; and I hope I
shall not again. It is a mercy that we have found out his strength and
his danger in good time. With strength and determination like his, he
might have done wild work before he was caged. He is safe now at any
rate. Jack Sheppard himself couldn't get free from the strait-waistcoat
that keeps him restrained, and he's chained to the wall in the padded
room. His cries are at times awful, but the silences that follow are
more deadly still, for he means murder in every turn and movement.
Just now he spoke coherent words for the first time:--
"I shall be patient, Master. It is coming--coming--coming!"
So I took the hint, and came too. I was too excited to sleep, but this
diary has quieted me, and I feel I shall get some sleep to-night.
CHAPTER IX
_Letter, Mina Harker to Lucy Westenra._
"_Buda-Pesth, 24 August._