“Look!” he cried to Kelley. “The elixir already begins to operate. His chest heaves. His limbs shiver. That flush upon the cheek, and that dampness upon the brow, denote that the animal heat is restored. A third draught will accomplish the cure.”
“I can already feel his heart palpitate,” observed Kelley, placing his hand on the patient's breast.
“Heaven be praised!” ejaculated Viviana, who had suspended her devotions to listen.
“Hold him tightly,” cried Dee to his assistant, “while I administer the last draught. He may injure himself by his struggles.”
Kelley obeyed, and twined his arms tightly round the wounded man. And fortunate it was that the precaution was taken, for the elixir was no sooner poured down his throat than his chest began to labour violently, his eyes opened, and, raising himself bolt-upright, he struggled violently to break from the hold imposed upon him. This he would have effected, if Dee had not likewise lent his aid to prevent him.
“This is, indeed, a wonderful sight!” cried Viviana, who had quitted the closet, and now gazed on, in awe and astonishment. “I can never be sufficiently thankful to you, reverend sir.”
“Give thanks to Him to whom alone they are due,” replied Dee. “Summon your friends. They may now resume their posts. My task is accomplished.”
Catesby and Garnet being called into the room, could scarcely credit their senses when they beheld Guy Fawkes, who by this time had ceased struggling, reclining on Kelley's shoulder, and, except a certain wildness in the eye and cadaverousness of hue, looking as he was wont to do.
Doctor Dee resuscitating Guy Fawkes