The Autobiography of a Quack and the Case of George Dedlow by S. Weir (Silas Weir) Mitchell
page 42 of 95 (44%)
page 42 of 95 (44%)
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After a pause he said: "Well, doctor, you know a poor devil in my fix
will clutch at straws. Hope I have not offended you." "Not in the least," returned the doctor. "Shall I send you Mr. Smith?" This was my present name; in fact, I was known as the Rev. Eliphalet Smith. "I would like it," answered File; "but as you go out, tell the warden I want to see him immediately about a matter of great importance." At this stage I began to apprehend very distinctly that the time had arrived when it would be wiser for me to delay escape no longer. Accordingly, I waited until I heard the doctor rise, and at once stepped quietly away to the far end of the corridor. I had scarcely reached it when the door which closed it was opened by a turnkey who had come to relieve the doctor and let me into the cell. Of course my peril was imminent. If the turnkey mentioned my near presence to the prisoner, immediate disclosure would follow. If some lapse of time were secured before the warden obeyed the request from File that he should visit him, I might gain thus a much-needed hour, but hardly more. I therefore said to the officer: "Tell the warden that the doctor wishes to remain an hour longer with the prisoner, and that I shall return myself at the end of that time." "Very good, sir," said the turnkey, allowing me to pass out, and, as he followed me, relocking the door of the corridor. "I'll tell him," he said. It is needless to repeat that I never had the least idea of carrying out the ridiculous scheme with which I had deluded File and Stagers, but so far Stagers's watchfulness had given me no chance to escape. |
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