She looked round hurriedly for a bell to ring, but apparently there was none.

She tried to open the door and cry for help, but in her excitement could neither find handle nor latch.
It seemed to be locked, and the key, doubtless, was in the Professor's pocket.

She thought at first that he had dropped dead, but the continued moaning as he lay on the floor convinced her of her error.

She bent over him anxiously and cried, "What can I do to help you ?" With a struggle he muttered, "The bottle, the bottle, in the cupboard behind you." She hurriedly flung open the doors of the cupboard indicated, and found a bottle of brandy, and a glass, which she partly filled.

The old man had with an effort struggled into a sitting posture, and she held the glass of fiery liquid to his pallid lips.