On reaching the Home, Mrs. Birtwell found in the office the man in
whose care Mr. Ridley had been placed. Remembering what Mr. G----had
said of this man, a fresh hope for Ethel's father sprang up in her
soul as she looked into his clear eyes and saw his firm mouth and
air of conscious poise and strength. She did not see in his manly
face a single scar from the old battle out of which he had come at
last victorious. Recognizing her, he called her by name, and not
waiting for her to ask the question that looked out of her face,
said:
"It is all right with him."
A cry of joy that she could not repress broke from Ethel. It was
followed by sobbing and tears.
"Can we see him?" asked Mrs. Birtwell.
"The doctor will not think it best," replied the man. "He has had a
pretty hard night, but, the worst is over. We must keep him quiet
to-day."
"In the morning can I see him?" asked Ethel lifting her eyes, half
blinded by tears, to the man's face.
"Yes; I think I can say yes," was the reply.
"How soon?"
"Come at ten o'clock."
"You'll let me call and ask about him this evening, won't you?"
"Oh yes, and you will get a good report, I am sure."
The care and help and wise consideration received in the Home by Mr.
Ridley, while passing through the awful stages of his mania, had
probably saved his life. The fits of frenzy were violent, so
overwhelming him with phantom terrors that in his wild and desperate
struggles to escape the fangs of serpents and dragons and the horrid
crew of imaginary demons that crowded his room and pressed madly
upon him he would, but for the restraint to which he was subjected,
have thrown himself headlong from a window or bruised and broken
himself against the wall.
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