"
One of the visitors came up to me, and looked me in the face. "And so he
is," cried he to the doctor, who looked with astonishment. "Peter, don't
you know me?" I started up. It was General O'Brien. I flew into his
arms, and burst into tears.
"Sir," said General O'Brien, leading me to the chair, and seating me
upon it, "I tell you that _is_ Mr Simple, the nephew of Lord Privilege;
and I believe, the heir to the title. If, therefore, his assertion of
such being the case is the only proof of his insanity, he is illegally
confined. I am here, a foreigner, and a prisoner on parole; but I am not
without friends. My Lord Belmore," said he, turning to another of the
visitors who had accompanied him, "I pledge you my honour that what I
state is true; and I request that you will immediately demand the
release of this poor young man."
"I assure you, sir, that I have Lord Privilege's letter," observed the
doctor.
"Lord Privilege is a scoundrel," replied General O'Brien. "But there is
justice to be obtained in this country, and he shall pay dearly for his
_lettre de cachet_. My dear Peter, how fortunate was my visit to this
horrid place! I had heard so much of the excellent arrangements of this
establishment, that I agreed to walk round with Lord Belmore; but I find
that it is abused."
"Indeed, General O'Brien, I have been treated with kindness," replied I;
"and particularly by this gentleman. It was not his fault."
General O'Brien and Lord Belmore then inquired of the doctor if he had
any objection to my release.
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