Before I came to my senses, he quickly sent out the message that I was awake after ‘lights out’ to The Wardens who came almost instantly. I had just enough time to see him disappear around the corner, towards the Institute’s main entrance.
Two Wardens grabbed me by the arms to restrain me, their grip was hurting my arms; I couldn’t move. I shouted out, ‘He getting away, he’s getting away!’ It was useless: they weren’t planning to let go. I struggled and tried to loosen their pincer like grip but the more I resisted, the harder the grip became: they finally decided to restrain me in an old straight-jacket that carried the smell of thirty years or more. As they frogmarched me passed the Warden in charge, I heard him say to his colleague, ‘The git’s mad!’ I was taken into the nearest room where I new they would sedate me. I fell unconscious before I could feel the pain of the four-inch needle piercing my skin.
I woke up in the ‘Mentally Disordered’ part of the Institute; I was disturbed by the groans and screams of the other patients. There was no light in the room, only from a small crack in the doorway. I turned my head to see what could be seen from the light. It was the mysterious man again.
He picked up his suitcase, turned, and left, taking his hat and coat. He didn’t make a sound. The man had obviously waited for me to wake but as soon as I arose he disappeared. I became coerced by curiosity. I threw away the stained hospital sheets and got quickly out of bed. As I walked out of the institute I heard the agonising cries and screams of the other patients and I was wary that the noise would attract the Wardens. I stepped quietly but quickly in pursuit of the mysterious man. I followed him along the musty corridors to a part of the hospital where there were no patients or doctors. I felt safe as I knew I would not be seen. I walked increasingly less carefully, moving much quickly, though still not gaining any closer to him.
The corridors here were clean. I noticed the absence of stains on the white-washed walls. The place was immaculately clean; it was clearly maintained. Though noticing these things, I still managed to keep one eye focused on the man at all times.
His pace became less hurried; he walked more casually but still moved with the same minimal amount of energy and unnecessary movement. I had a feeling he was nearing his destination, and luckily enough, he was.
I passed a rounded corner and expected to still be in hot pursuit of the mysterious man. I stopped dead in my tracks.
The man was standing motionless, side on towards me. He faced a portrait that contained an authoritative man. I noticed the similarity between the two people in front of me. They had the same stature and bodily build, also wearing the exact same clothes.
My attention was suddenly drawn towards the man I had been following. He began to float upwards very slowly and gradually but increasingly faster. He slowly became more and more transparent. He drifted towards the portrait and slowly began to take the pose of the man in the picture. At the exact moment the mysterious man became transparent he took the exact same pose as the figure in the portrait.
I could no longer see the floating man, only the figure in the portrait. He looked exactly the same as the mysterious man I had followed. My eyes drifted towards the bottom which read:
“The Lyme Regis Mental Institute,
Founded 1673.
William Walsingham 1649 – 1724”
