"Ah, well!" he muttered, "it is to be expected."

"Will you see her?" inquired the superintendent.

"No; it--it is not necessary just yet. There is to be a consultation to-day. Dr. McMutrie and Professor Bodley will be here presently--also Mr. Cooley."

"Her _habeas corpus_ comes up on Friday, I believe," said the superintendent politely. Mr. Spencer always made it a rule to stand in well with the visiting physicians.

Dr. Zacharie frowned.

"Yes, a jury of illiterate ignoramuses to decide a scientific question!

Ah, such laws in this country!" He stopped and read aloud from the report: "Cries constantly--sits silent and moody for hours." Looking up, he said: "Poor girl, she--she seems to be conscious of her position at times--she talks much, eh?"

At that moment old Collins reappeared.

"Mr. Ricaby wishes to see Miss Marsh," he said.

The superintendent made a gesture in the direction of the wards.

"Tell Mrs. Johnson to bring her here." As the old attendant went to obey the order, the superintendent turned to Dr. Zacharie: "Will you wait, doctor?" he asked.

The other quickly shook his head.

"No," he said. "I don't like that fellow Ricaby. He has a stupid idea that we are opposed to him. May I take this report? I would like to show it to my colleagues when they come."

"Certainly, certainly," replied the other.

He rose from his desk, indicating by a nod to his stenographer that there would be no further dictation. As the secretary gathered her papers the bell rang.

"There's the luncheon bell," said the superintendent. Addressing Dr.

Zacharie: "Won't you join us?"

"No, thanks," replied the physician. "Send us a copy of the other reports, will you? We shall need them on Friday."

Buzz! buzz!

Mr. Spencer touched a b.u.t.ton and the big doors swung wide open, giving admittance to Mr. Ricaby, who, pale and anxious-looking, advanced quickly into the office. As he came in Dr. Zacharie, a sneer on his lips, made a formal salutation, but it was not returned. Ignoring the physician's presence entirely, the lawyer made his way straight to the superintendent's desk:

"I wish to see my client, Miss Marsh," he said, in a firm voice that would brook no refusal.

Dr. Zacharie gave a contemptuous shrug of his shoulders and, with a significant smile at the superintendent, went away.

"I have sent for Miss Marsh," said the superintendent coldly.

"Thank you," replied the lawyer curtly.

The air was full of hostility. The superintendent stood in silence at his desk putting away his papers. Mr. Ricaby, taking a seat uninvited, looked around him and shuddered as he thought of the poor girl whose rescue from this dreadful place he was moving heaven and earth to effect. After a few minutes' wait Collins reappeared. Addressing the superintendent, he said:

"Miss Marsh will be here directly, sir."

"Very well," growled the other. "They can have this room."

"Yes, sir."

"Who is on watch duty to-day?" demanded the superintendent.

"Lockwood at the front gates, sir, and Medwinter patrolling."

"Very well," said the superintendent airily. "If you want me I'm at lunch."

Then, without so much as a glance at the lawyer, he closed his desk lid with a bang and left the office.

Mr. Ricaby waited anxiously for the coming of his client. All voices and sounds had died away, and a heavy, sinister silence fell upon the entire building. There was something unnatural about the dead calm. Suddenly there was a scream of terror, followed by peals of hysterical laughter.

Then all was silence again. In spite of himself the lawyer felt uncomfortable. He shuddered as he realized what Paula had suffered in such a place. The quiet now was uncanny and oppressive. All one heard was the loud ticking of the office clock and the stealthy walk of old Collins, who, gliding about the room in his noiseless felt slippers, halted every now and then to glance in the direction of the visitor.

Like most persons of weak mind, he was easily excited by the appearance of a new face. Indeed, strangers at "Sea Rest" were enough of a novelty to excite interest. With the physicians and regular callers the inmates were familiar enough, but the sight of a stranger revived in their debilitated minds old recollections, thoughts of the outer world, a world of sunshine, joy, and liberty of which they themselves had once been a part and which they had abandoned all hope of ever seeing again.

At last, unable to control his curiosity any longer, the old man stopped in front of the lawyer and inquired respectfully:

"Can I get you anything, sir?"

"No, thanks," replied Mr. Ricaby. There was something in the appearance of the old man that interested him, and kindly he asked: "How long have you been here?"

"Nearly ten years, sir--on and off. I was an inmate here, sir, when Dr.

Spencer--Mr. Spencer's father--was the proprietor."

"Are you still a--a--an inmate?"

"No, sir--not so to speak. I'm a waiter, sir--my old profession. After I got better I went back to my old position at Delmonico's, but I couldn't stand the excitement. You wouldn't believe it, sir, but waiters are frightfully tried. We've got to know just what people want, who don't know what they want themselves, and who complain if we make the slightest mistake. Don't they make mistakes, too? Don't they point with their knives and forks while they talk in a vulgar, loud voice with their mouths full of food? Don't they put vinegar on their oysters and ice in their claret? Don't they drink champagne with fish? Don't they expect a half portion to be enough for two? And, cruellest act of all, they talk to us in a language they call French. They blame us when the cashier makes mistakes. They blame us when the cook makes mistakes. They blame us when their own digestions make mistakes. They forget that we're human. And, I tell you, sir, it gets on our nerves at last. It's bound to." Suddenly the electric indicator buzzed loudly. The old man started nervously and glanced up.

"It's the dining room, sir. Excuse me, sir."

Before he could obey the summons a bell sounded violently from the same direction.

"All right--all right," he cried. "I heard it the first time."

He toddled off, grumbling. A moment later the small, narrow door opened and Mrs. Johnson, the head attendant, entered, followed by Paula.

CHAPTER XVIII.

Every minute of the day and night, for three long, weary weeks, that had seemed like years, Paula had prayed for deliverance from what was little better than a living death. At first, when she was brought to the asylum she thought she would go really mad. The first glimpse of the barred windows, the bolted doors and padded cells filled her with terror. She became hysterical, and for two days could not be pacified. She refused all nourishment, and, unable to sleep, pa.s.sed her time pacing up and down her room. The superintendent and nurses fully believed that she was insane, and the symptoms she displayed being common in patients, no heed was paid to them or to her protests. Gradually, seeing the futility of tears and resistance, the girl grew quieter, and calmly began to look forward to the moment when the horrid nightmare would be at an end, and she would be set free. She knew that Mr. Ricaby and Tod were exhausting every legal resource to procure her liberty and that an order for her release was only a question of time. But the long, agonizing wait, the knowledge that she was the a.s.sociate of, and breathed the same air as wretched, demented beings whose one hope of deliverance was a speedy death, was more than she could bear. Of Dr. Zacharie she had, fortunately, seen very little. Only once since her incarceration had the physician attempted to visit her professionally, and then she was seized with such a violent attack of hysteria that the nurse, alarmed, begged him to retire.

All this anxiety and mental distress could not have failed to affect her general health, and Mr. Ricaby was startled when he caught sight of the girl's pale, wan face, with its traces of suffering. She smiled faintly when she saw him, and, as he darted forward, extended a thin, emaciated hand.

"Oh, Mr. Ricaby, I'm so glad, so glad to see you!" she said weakly. "I didn't expect you to-day."

Shocked by her appearance, the lawyer was too much agitated at first to answer. Controlling himself with an effort, he asked in a low tone: