He lay still in this position for a moment, and then, turning round painfully on his side, endeavoured to put his hand to the place where his dire enemy usually was concealed.

Sir Roger, however, was too weak now to be his own master; he was at length, though too late, a captive in the hands of nurses and doctors, and the bottle had now been removed.
Then Lady Scatcherd came in, and seeing that her husband was no longer unconscious, she could not but believe that Dr Thorne had been wrong; she could not but think that there must be some ground for hope.

She threw herself on her knees at the bedside, bursting into tears as she did so, and taking Sir Roger's hand in hers covered it with kisses.
"Bother!" said Sir Roger.
She did not, however, long occupy herself with the indulgence of her feelings; but going speedily to work, produced such sustenance as the doctors had ordered to be given when the patient might awake.

A breakfast-cup was brought to him, and a few drops were put into his mouth; but he soon made it manifest that he would take nothing more of a description so perfectly innocent.
"A drop of brandy--just a little drop," said he, half-ordering, and half-entreating.
"Ah, Roger!" said Lady Scatcherd.
"Just a little drop, Louis," said the sick man, appealing to his son.
"A little will be good for him; bring the bottle, mother," said the son.
After some altercation the brandy bottle was brought, and Louis, with what he thought a very sparing hand, proceeded to pour about half a wine-glassful into the cup.

As he did so, Sir Roger, weak as he was, contrived to shake his son's arm, so as greatly to increase the dose.
"Ha! ha! ha!" laughed the sick man, and then greedily swallowed the dose..