upon the sudden entrance of his master, and was the cause of all the other ejaculations which followed quickly from every member of the household.  Doctor Mayhew commanded order, and was not long in bringing it about.  The house was searched immediately Wherever it was supposed that the idiot might hide himself, diligent enquiry was made; cupboards, holes, corners, and cellars.  It was in vain.  He certainly had escaped.  The gardens and paddocks, and fields adjacent were scoured, and with like success.  There was no doubt of it—­the idiot was gone—­who could tell whither?  After two hours’ unprofitable labour, Doctor Mayhew was again in his library, very much disturbed in mind, and reproaching himself bitterly for his procrastination.  “Had I acted,” said he, “upon my first determination, this would never have happened, and my part in the business would have been faithfully performed.  As it is, if any mischief should come to that man, I shall never cease to blame myself, and to be considered the immediate cause of it.”  I made no reply.  I could say nothing.  His escape occurring so soon after my identification of the unfortunate creature, had bewildered and confounded me.  I could not guess at the motive of his flight, nor conceive a purpose to which it was likely the roused maniac would aspire; but I was satisfied—­yes, too satisfied, for to think of it was to chill and freeze the heart’s warm blood—­that the revelation of the day and his removal were in close connexion.  Alas, I dared not speak, although my fears distracted me whilst I continued dumb!  Arrangements were at last made for watching both within and without the house during the night—­messengers were dispatched to the contiguous villages, and all that could be done for the recovery of the runaway was attempted.  It was already past twelve o’clock when Dr. Mayhew insisted upon my retiring to rest.  I did not oppose his wish.  He was ill at ease, and angry with himself.  Maintaining the silence which I had kept during the evening, I gave him my hand, and took my leave.

I thought I should have dropped dead in the room when, lost in a deep reverie, I opened my chamber-door, and discovered, sitting at the table, the very man himself. There the idiot sat, portrait in hand, encountering me with a look of unutterable sorrowfulness.  He must have hid himself amongst the folds of the curtains, for this room, as well as the rest, was looked into, and its cupboards investigated.  I recoiled with sudden terror, and retreated, but the wretch clasped his hands in agony, and implored me in gestures which could not be mistaken, to remain.  I recovered, gained confidence, and forbore.

“What do you desire with me?” I asked quickly.  “Can you speak?  Do you understand me?” The unhappy man dropped on his knees, and took my hand—­cried like a beaten child—­sobbed and groaned.  He raised the likeness of his sister to my eyes, and then I saw the fire sparkling in his own lustrous orb, and the supplication bursting from it, that was not to be resisted.  He pointed to his mouth, compelled an inarticulate sound, and looked at me again, to assure me that he had spoken all his faculties permitted him.  He waited for any answer.