Читать книгу On the Brink of a Chasm: A record of plot and passion онлайн

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“Go to sleep, Piers,” said Dick.

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Pelham sat with the boy for about an hour. The nurse came in and turned off the electric light. She lit a lamp in a distant part of the room, and shaded it; then she approached the bedside on tiptoe.

“How is the boy now?” asked Pelham in a whisper.

“He is very ill,” said the woman. “He ought to have his medicine soon.”

“But you won’t wake him for it,” said Dick.

“I am sorry, but I must. The boy must have his medicine regularly; it is a heart stimulant.”

“Well, let me give it to him,” said Dick.

“You may if you like,” answered the nurse. “Come into the dressing-room. I will give you the glass, and you must raise his head a little and whisper to him. He’ll open his eyes and drink it, and then go off to sleep again.”

As the nurse spoke she opened a bottle of medicine, measured out a dose carefully, and gave it to the young man. He took it into the sick-room, and, placing it on a table, bent down over the little patient.

The boy was sleeping, starting now and then in his sleep, now and then muttering a word.