The jailer, who had fallen asleep after his supper, staggered to his feet.
"God bless my soul! And the doctor living at the other end of the town too."
"Never mind the doctor! Brandy! Quick!"
"There isn't a drop in the Castle, Sir."
"Yes, there's a flask in my room. Take these" (giving him a bunch of keys) "and go for it."
"Where will I find it, Sir?"
"I don't know. I can't remember. Look everywhere—in every drawer, every cupboard."
"I will, your Honour."
"Don't come back without it."
"I won't, Sir." And still in the mists of sleep the jailer picked up his lantern from the table and staggered off.