I turned my eyes upon the speaker, and said in a ravening manner,
'Where's his houses?'
'Hah! Horrible worldliness on the edge of the grave,' said Mr.
Hawkyard, casting more of the vinegar over me, as if to get my
devil out of me. 'I have undertaken a slight - a very slight -
trust in behalf of this boy; quite a voluntary trust: a matter of
mere honour, if not of mere sentiment: still I have taken it upon
myself, and it shall be (O, yes, it shall be!) discharged.'
The bystanders seemed to form an opinion of this gentleman much
more favourable than their opinion of me.
'He shall be taught,' said Mr. Hawkyard, '(O, yes, he shall be
taught!) but what is to be done with him for the present? He may
be infected. He may disseminate infection.' The ring widened
considerably. 'What is to be done with him?'
He held some talk with the two officials. I could distinguish no
word save 'Farm-house.' There was another sound several times
repeated, which was wholly meaningless in my ears then, but which I
knew afterwards to be 'Hoghton Towers.'
'Yes,' said Mr. Hawkyard. 'I think that sounds promising; I think
that sounds hopeful. And he can be put by himself in a ward, for a
night or two, you say?'
It seemed to be the police-officer who had said so; for it was he
who replied, Yes! It was he, too, who finally took me by the arm,
and walked me before him through the streets, into a whitewashed
room in a bare building, where I had a chair to sit in, a table to
sit at, an iron bedstead and good mattress to lie upon, and a rug
and blanket to cover me. Where I had enough to eat too, and was
shown how to clean the tin porringer in which it was conveyed to
me, until it was as good as a looking-glass. Here, likewise, I was
put in a bath, and had new clothes brought to me; and my old rags
were burnt, and I was camphored and vinegared and disinfected in a
variety of ways.
When all this was done, - I don't know in how many days or how few,
but it matters not, - Mr. Hawkyard stepped in at the door,
remaining close to it, and said, 'Go and stand against the opposite
wall, George Silverman. As far off as you can. That'll do. How
do you feel?'
I told him that I didn't feel cold, and didn't feel hungry, and
didn't feel thirsty. That was the whole round of human feelings,
as far as I knew, except the pain of being beaten.
'Well,' said he, 'you are going, George, to a healthy farm-house to
be purified. Keep in the air there as much as you can. Live an
out-of-door life there, until you are fetched away. You had better
not say much - in fact, you had better be very careful not to say
anything - about what your parents died of, or they might not like
to take you in. Behave well, and I'll put you to school; O, yes!
I'll put you to school, though I'm not obligated to do it. I am a
servant of the Lord, George; and I have been a good servant to him,
I have, these five-and-thirty years. The Lord has had a good
servant in me, and he knows it.'
What I then supposed him to mean by this, I cannot imagine. As
little do I know when I began to comprehend that he was a prominent
member of some obscure denomination or congregation, every member
of which held forth to the rest when so inclined, and among whom he
was called Brother Hawkyard. It was enough for me to know, on that
day in the ward, that the farmer's cart was waiting for me at the
street corner. I was not slow to get into it; for it was the first
ride I ever had in my life.
It made me sleepy, and I slept.
