"Wake him up. Shake him by the shoulder. Do as I tell you," said the doctor, roughly. "He will go to sleep again. It is one of the finer qualities of my medicine that it sends people to sleep. It is a most soothing medicine. It causes a deep—a profound sleep. Wake him up, I say." he went to the cupboard in which the medicines were kept. Lord Harry with some difficulty roused the sick man, who awoke dull and heavy, asking why he was disturbed.
"Time for your medicine, my good fellow," said the doctor. "Take it, and you shall not be disturbed again—I promise you that."
The door of the cupboard prevented the spy from seeing what the doctor was doing; but he took longer than usual in filling the glass. Lord Harry seemed to observe this, for he left the Dane and looked over the doctor's shoulder. "What are you doing?" he asked in a whisper.
"Better not inquire, my lord," said the doctor. "What do you know about the mysteries of medicine?"
"Why must I not inquire?"
Vimpany turned, closing the cupboard behind him. In his hand was a glass full of the stuff he was about to administer.
"If you look in the glass," he said, "you will understand why."
Lord Harry obeyed. He saw a face ghastly in pallor: he shrank back and fell into a chair, saying no more.
"Now, my good friend," said the doctor, "drink this and you'll be better—ever so much better, ever so much better. Why—that is brave——" he looked at him strangely, "How do you like the medicine?"
Oxbye shook his head as a man who has taken something nauseous. "I don't like it at all," he said. "It doesn't taste like the other physic."