'Is that certain?'
'Yes, I think—that is, if he leaves off taking the drug, Wilson.'
'What! it is he who has poisoned himself?'
I hesitated, I hesitated. But I said:
'He is in the habit of taking atropine, Wilson.'
Three hours I remained there, and, God knows, toiled hard for his life: and when I left him in the dark of the fore-day, my mind was at rest: he would recover.
I slept till 11 A.M., and then hurried over again to Peters. In the room were my two nurses, and Clodagh.
My beloved put her forefinger to her lips, whispering:
'Sh-h-h! he is asleep....'
She came closer to my ear, saying: