"You dare to lay a finger on me, you bullying blackguard."
The Major did dare. He struck out, if not with considerable science, at any rate with considerable execution. The chaplain went down like a log. At that moment the chief warder entered the room. He had a pail of water in his hand. For some reason, which was not altogether plain, he threw its contents upon the chaplain as he lay upon the floor.
While these--considering the persons engaged--somewhat irregular proceedings had been taking place, Mankell remained motionless, his hand upraised--still with that smile upon his face. Now he lowered his hand.
"Thank you very much," he said.
There was silence again--a tolerably prolonged silence. While it lasted, a change seemed to be pa.s.sing over the chief actors in the scene. They seemed to be awaking, with more or less rapidity, to the fact that a certain incongruity characterised their actions and their language. There stood Warder Slater, apparently surprised and overwhelmed at the discovery that his hat and coat were off, and his shirtsleeves tucked up above his elbows. The chief warder, with the empty pail in his hand, presented a really ludicrous picture of amazement. He seemed quite unable to realise the fact that he had thrown the contents over the chaplain. The inspector"s surprise appeared to be no less on finding that, in his pugilistic ardour, he had torn off his coat and knocked the chaplain down. The doctor, supporting him in the rear, seemed to be taken a little aback. The governor, smoothing his hair with his hand, seemed to be in a hopeless mist. It was the chaplain, who rose from the floor with his handkerchief to his nose, who brought it home to them that the scene which had just transpired had not been the grotesque imaginings of some waking dream.
"I call you to witness that Major Hardinge has struck me to the ground, and the chief warder has thrown on me a pail of water. What conduct may be expected from ignorant criminals when such is the behaviour of those who are in charge of them, must be left for others to judge."
They looked at one another. Their feelings were momentarily too deep for words.
"I think," suggested the governor, with quavering intonation, "I think--that this man--had better--be taken away."
Warder Slater picked up his hat and coat, and left the room, Mankell walking quietly beside him. Mr. Murray followed after, seeming particularly anxious to conceal the presence of the pail. Mr. Hewett, still stanching the blood which flowed from his nose, fixed his eyes on the inspector.
"Major Hardinge, if, twenty-four hours after this, you are still an Inspector of Prisons, all England shall ring with your shame. Behind bureaucracy--above it--is the English press." The chaplain moved towards the door. On the threshold he paused. "As for the chief warder, I shall commence by indicting him for a.s.sault." He took another step, and paused again. "Nor shall I forget that the governor aided and abetted the inspector, and that the doctor egged him on."
Then the chaplain disappeared. His disappearance was followed by what might be described as an abject silence. The governor eyed his colleagues furtively. At last he stammered out a question.
"Well, Major, what do you think of this?"
The Major sank into a chair, expressing his thoughts by a gasp. Mr.
Paley turned his attention to the doctor.
"What do you say, doctor?"
"I say?--I say nothing."
"I suppose," murmured the Major, in what seemed to be the ghost of his natural voice, "that I did knock him down?"
The doctor seemed to have something to say on that point, at any rate.
"Knock him down!--I should think you did! Like a log of wood!"
The Major glanced at the governor. Mr. Paley shook his head. The Major groaned. The governor began to be a little agitated.
"Something must be done. It is out of the question that such a scandal should be allowed to go out into the world. I do not hesitate to say that if the chaplain sends in to the commissioners the report which he threatens to send, the situation will be to the last degree unpleasant for all of us."
"The point is," observed the doctor--"are we, collectively and individually, subject to periodical attacks of temporary insanity?"
"Speaking for myself, I should say certainly not."
Dr. Livermore turned on the governor.
"Then perhaps you will suggest a hypothesis which will reasonably account for what has just occurred." The governor was silent. "Unless you are prepared to seek for a cause in the regions of phenomena."
"Supposing," murmured the Major, "there is such a thing as witchcraft after all?"
"We should have the Psychical Research Society down on us, if we had n.o.body else, if we appended our names to a confession of faith." The doctor thrust his thumbs into his waistcoat arm-holes. "And I should lose every patient I have."
There was a tapping at the door. In response to the governor"s invitation, the chief warder entered. In general there was in Mr.
Murray"s bearing a not distant suggestion of an inflated bantam-c.o.c.k or pouter-pigeon. It was curious to observe how anything in the shape of inflation was absent now. He touched his hat to the governor--his honest, rubicund, somewhat pugnacious face, eloquent of the weight that was on his mind.
"Excuse me, sir. I said he was a witch."
"Your saying that he was a witch--or wizard," remarked the governor, dryly, "will not, I fear, be sufficient excuse, in the eyes of the commissioners, for your throwing a pail of water over the chaplain."
"But a man"s not answerable for what he does when he"s bewitched,"
persisted the chief warder, with characteristic st.u.r.diness.
"It is exactly that reflection which has constrained me to return."
They looked up. There was the chaplain standing in the doorway--still with his handkerchief to his nose.
"Mr. Murray, you threw a pail of water over me. If you a.s.sert that you did it under the influence of witchcraft, I, who have myself been under a spell, am willing to excuse you."
"Mr. Hewett, sir, you yourself know I was bewitched."
"I do; as I believe it of myself. Murray, give me your hand." The chaplain and the chief warder solemnly shook hands. "There is an end of the matter as it concerns us two. Major Hardinge, do I understand you to a.s.sert that you too were under the influence of witchcraft?"
This was rather a delicate inquiry to address to the Major. Apparently the Major seemed to find it so.
"I don"t know about witchcraft," he growled; "but I am prepared to take my oath in any court in England that I had no more intention of striking you than I had of striking the moon."
"That is sufficient, Major Hardinge. I forgive you from my heart.
Perhaps you too will take my hand."
The Major took it--rather awkwardly--much more awkwardly than the chief warder had done. When the chaplain relinquished it, he turned aside, and picking up his coat, began to put it on--scarcely with that air of dignity which is proper to a prison inspector.
"I presume," continued Mr. Hewett, "that we all allow that what has occurred has been owing to the malign influence of the man Oliver Mankell?"
There was silence. Apparently they did not all allow it even yet: it _was_ a pill to swallow.
"Hypnotism," muttered the doctor, half aside.
"Hypnotism! I believe that the word simply expresses some sort of mesmeric power--hardly a sufficient explanation in the present case."
"I would suggest, Major Hardinge," interposed the governor, "all theorising aside, that the man be transferred to another prison at the earliest possible moment."
"He shall be transferred to-morrow," affirmed the Major. "If there is anything in Mr. Hewett"s suggestion, the fellow shall have a chance to prove it--in some other jail. Oh, good Lord! Don"t! He"s killing me!
Help--p!"
"Hardinge!" exclaimed the doctor; "what"s the matter now?"
There seemed to be something the matter. The Major had been delivering himself in his most pompously official manner. Suddenly he put his hands to the pit of his stomach, and began to cry out as if in an ecstacy of pain, his official manner altogether gone.
"He"ll murder me! I know he will!"