Sturk groaned.
'See now,' said Toole, 'there's time enough, and don't fatigue yourself. There, now, rest quiet a minute.'
And he made him swallow some more wine; and felt his pulse and shook his head despondingly at Lowe, behind his back.
'How is it?' said Sturk, faintly.
'A little irritable—that's all,' said Toole.
''Till one night, I say,'—Sturk resumed, after a minute or two, 'it came to me all at once, awake—I don't know—or in a dream; in a moment I had it all. 'Twas like a page cut out of a book—lost for so many years.' And Sturk moaned a despairing wish to Heaven that the secret had never returned to him again.
'Yes, Sir—like a page cut out of a book, and never missed till 'twas found again; and then sharp and clear, every letter from first to last. Then, Sir—then—thinking 'twas no use at that distance of time taking steps to punish him, I—I foolishly let him understand I knew him. My mind misgave me from the first. I think it was my good angel that warned me. But 'tis no use now. I'm not a man to be easily frightened. But it seemed to me he was something altogether worse than a man, and like—like Satan; and too much for me every way. If I was wise I'd have left him alone. But 'tis no good fretting now. It was to be. I was too outspoken—'twas always my way—and I let him know; and—and you see, he meant to make away with me. He tried to take my life, Sir; and I think he has done it. I'll never rise from this bed, gentlemen. I'm done for.'
'Come, Doctor Sturk, you mustn't talk that way, Pell will be out this evening, and Dillon may be—though faith! I don't quite know that Pell will meet him—but we'll put our heads together, and deuce is in it or we'll set you on your legs again.'
Sturk was screwing his lips sternly together, and the lines of his gruff haggard face were quivering, and a sullen tear or two started down from his closed eye.
'I'm—I'm a little nervous, gentlemen—I'll be right just now I'd like to see the—the children, if they're in the way, that's all—by-and-by, you know.'