Through the Fray: A Tale of the Luddite Riots, G. A. Henty [good books to read for teens .TXT] 📗

responsible for what he was saying. Further conversation would do him harm rather than good. What he required was rest and, if possible, sleep. Mr. Porson therefore only said quietly:

“We will not talk about it now, Ned; your brain is over excited with all you have gone through. What you want now is rest and sleep.”

“I don't feel sleepy, Mr. Porson. I don't feel as if I should ever get to sleep again. I don't look like it, do I?”

“No, Ned, I don't think you do at present; but I wish you did, my boy. Well, remember that we, your old friends, all believe you innocent of this thing, and that we will spare no pains to prove it to the world. I see,” he said, looking at the table, “that you have not touched your breakfast. I am not surprised that you could not eat it. I will see that you have a cup of really good tea sent you in.”

“No,” Ned said with a laugh which it pained Mr. Porson to hear, “I have not eaten since I had tea at home. It was only the day before yesterday, but it seems a year.”

On leaving the cell Mr. Porson went to Dr. Green, who lived only three or four doors away, told him of the state in which he had found Ned, and begged him to give him a strong and, as far as possible, tasteless sedative, and to put it in a cup of tea.

“Yes, that will be the best thing,” the doctor replied. “I had better not go and see him, for talking will do him harm rather than good. We shall be having him on our hands with brain fever if this goes on. I will go round with the tea myself to the head constable and tell him that no one must on any account be permitted to see Ned, and that rest and quiet are absolutely necessary for him. I will put a strong dose of opium into the tea.”

Ten minutes later Dr. Green called upon the chief constable and told him that he feared from what he had heard from Mr. Porson that Ned was in a very critical state, and that unless he got rest and sleep he would probably have an attack of brain fever, even if his mind did not give way altogether.

“I was intending to have him removed at once,” the officer said, “to a comfortable room at my own house. He was only placed where he is temporarily. I exchanged a few words with him after the examination and was struck myself with the strangeness of his tone. Won't you see him?”

“I think that any talk is bad for him,” the doctor said. “I have put a strong dose of opium in this tea, and I hope it will send him off to sleep. When he recovers I will see him.”

“I think, doctor,” the constable said significantly, “it would be a good thing if you were to see him at once. You see, if things go against him, and between ourselves the case is a very ugly one, if you could get in the box and say that you saw him here, and that, in your opinion, his mind was shaken, and that as likely as not he had not been responsible for his actions from the time he left his mother's house, it might save his life.”

“That is a capital idea,” Dr. Green said, “and Porson's evidence would back mine. Yes, I will go in and see him even if my visit does do him harm.”

“I will move him into his new quarters first,” the officer said; “then if he drinks the tea he may, if he feels sleepy, throw himself on the bed and go off. He will be quiet and undisturbed there.”

Two or three minutes later the doctor was shown into a comfortable room. A fire was burning brightly, and the tea was placed on a little tray with a new roll and a pat of butter.

Ned's mood had somewhat changed. He received the doctor with a boisterous laugh.

“How are you, doctor? Here I am, you see, monarch of all I survey. This is the first time you have visited me in a room which I could consider entirely my own. Not a bad place either.”

“I hope you will not be here long, Ned,” Dr. Green said, humoring him. “We shall all do our best to get you out as soon as we can.”

“I don't think your trying will be of much use, doctor; but what's the odds as long as you are happy!”

“That's right, my boy, nothing like looking at matters cheerfully. You know, lad, how warmly all your old friends are with you. Would you like me to bring Charlie next time I come?”

“No, no, doctor,” Ned said almost with a cry. “No. I have thought it over, and Charlie must not see me. It will do him harm and I shall break down. I shall have to see him at the trial—of course he must be there—that will be bad enough.”

“Very well,” the doctor said quietly, “just as you like, Ned. I shall be seeing you every day, and will give him news of you. I am going to see him now.”

“Tell him I am well and comfortable and jolly,” Ned said recklessly.

“I will tell him you are comfortable, Ned, and I should like to tell him that you had eaten your breakfast.”

“Oh, yes! Tell him that. Say I ate it voraciously.” And he swallowed down the cup of tea and took a bite at the roll.

“I will tell him,” Dr. Green said. “I will come in again this evening, and will perhaps bring in with me a little medicine. You will be all the better for a soothing draught.”

“I want no draughts,” Ned said. “Why should I? I am as right as ninepence.”

“Very well. We will see,” the doctor said. “Now I must be going my rounds.”

As soon as he had gone Ned began pacing up and down the room, as he had done the whole of the past night without intermission. Gradually, however, the powerful narcotic began to take effect. His walk became slower, his head began to droop, and at last he stumbled toward the bed in the corner of the room, threw himself heavily down, and was almost instantly sound asleep. Five minutes later the door opened quietly and Dr. Green entered.

He had been listening outside the door, had noticed the change in the character of Ned's walk, and having heard the fall upon the bed, and had no fear of his rousing himself at his entrance. The boy was lying across the bed, and the doctor, who was a powerful man, lifted him gently and laid him with his head upon the pillow. He felt his pulse, and lifted his eyelid.

“It was a strong dose,” he said to himself, “far stronger than I should have dared give him at any other time, but nothing less would have acted, with his brain in such an excited state. I must keep in the town today and look in from time to time and see how he is going on. It may be that I shall have to take steps to rouse