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Updated: June 29, 2025
Woodward was there, and appeared to feel a deep interest in the fate of his brother. Greatrakes, on looking at him, said, before he applied the sanative power which God had placed in his constitution, "This young man is dying of a slow and subtle poison, which some person under the roof of this house has been administering to him in small doses."
He looked sternly at Woodward as he uttered the last words, and then took his departure to Rathfillan, having first told Barney Casey to call on him the next day. After Greatrakes had gone, Woodward repaired to the room of his mother, in a state of agitation which we cannot describe. "Mother," said he, "unless we can manage that old peer and his niece, I am a lost man."
Here, however, was a man in whom the principle existed upon what he considered rational and philosophic grounds. He had gotten the philosophical blockhead's crotchet into his head, and carried the principle, in a practical point of view, much further than ever the old fool himself did in his life. The Appearance Woodward. Valentine Greatrakes.
How can we enter into negotiations with that sharp old scoundrel, Lord Cockle-town, now? I assure you I had her at the last gasp, when Greatrakes came in and restored her to perfect health before my face. But, setting that aside for the present, is there such a being as what is termed the Black Spectre, mysteriously connected, if I may say so, with our family?"
Professor J. Rodes Buchanan, Boston, says: "Mozart, Hoffman, Ole Bull, and Blind Tom were born with a mastery of music, as Zerah Colburn with a mastery of mathematics, as others are born with a mastery of the mystery of life and disease, like Greatrakes, Newton, Hutton, Sweet and Stephens, born doctors, and score of similar renown."
"Ay," replied the old villain, "but remember that the act is not mine but your own. I simply furnish you with the necessary means your own act will be to apply them." On leaving the hut, Greatrakes was highly gratified on finding that Barney Casey had overheard their whole conversation. "You will serve as a corroborative evidence," said he.
In the venom and dark malignity of his heart he cursed Alice Goodwin, he cursed Valentine Greatrakes, he cursed the world, and he cursed God, or rather would have cursed him had he believed in the existence of such a being. In this mood of mind he was proceeding to his lodgings, when he espied before him the Shan-dhinne-dhuv, or Black Spectre with the middogue in his hand.
The party at Ragley was invited to meet her latest medical attendant, an unlicensed practitioner, Mr. Valentine Greatrakes, or Greatorex; his name is spelled in a variety of ways. Mr.
"You will require no cure, and, what is better, no necessity for cure," replied Greatrakes, smiling, "if you will have only common sense, my dear Cooke. Clothe yourself in warm and comfortable garments, and feed your miserable carcass with good beef and mutton, and, in addition to which, like myself and the friar here, take a warm tumbler of good usquebaugh punch to promote digestion."
"It was the providence of God," said his niece, "that would not suffer the innocent to become associated with the guilty." Greatrakes, in the meantime, was hard at work.
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