After super-human efforts to extract from Game an assurance that he's getting up that moment, and Parson needn't wait, the luckless fag returns to find his master snoring like one of the seven sleepers.

The same process has to be repeated.

Shouts and shakes, and an occasional sly pinch, have no effect.

Parson is tempted to leave his graceless lord to his fate, and betake himself to his French verbs; but a dim surmise as to the consequences prevents him.

At last he braces himself up for one desperate effort.