Erb discovering the lines with the aid of Rosalind’s finger, gave the cue. “For he to-day—” The old Professor goes on. “‘For he to-day that sheds his blood with me Shall be my be-rother! be he ne’er so vile, This day shall gentle his condition, And gentlemen in England, And gentlemen in England.’ No use,” said the Professor weakly, “my study’s gone.” “Don’t bother about it, sir.” “Laddie,” said the Professor, “you—you think me a thriftless, miserable wastrel.” “No, no,” answered Erb. “Not that exactly. But we’re none of us perfect.” “I’ve reached me last hour, and the time has come for plain speech. I’ve been—” a smile dared to creep halfway across the Professor’s face. “I’ve been a fraud.” “Father,” said Rosalind brokenly. “You’ve always been the dearest, dearest—” The boy doctor, snatching the opportunity to whisper to Erb, who could not lose the Professor’s hand, said that he had administered a sleeping draught: if the Professor desired to say anything it would be better to allow him to speak without interruption. “I have been a fraud,” repeated the Professor, with something of relish. “I have been a—’Neither a borrower or a lender be. For borrowing oft—’” “You’ve always been welcome, sir.” “I have been the most fraudulent of all frauds. There is a note in my desk to send to the ‘Era.’ I have often, in my salad days, advertised in the ‘Era.’ I think they will put it in.” “I’ll pay them to, if necessary.” The Professor gave a faint echo of a chuckle. “How they will talk about it in the Strand! I’d give the remainder of my life to hear them.” The old, old mouth, twisted in the effort to display amusement, and remained twisted; one eyelid nearly closed. The boy doctor looked anxiously from the foot of the sofa: Rosalind knelt. “You’re going to have a nice long sleep, sir,” said Erb, bending down. “And you’ll wake up a different man, bless you.” “I shall wake up,” repeated the Professor slowly, “wake up a different man.” Both eyelids closing now, he turned his white head a little towards the wall. Presently his grip of Erb’s hand relaxed, and Erb, disengaging himself, went with the others to the window, where the three spoke in an undertone, Erb holding Rosalind’s elbows supportingly. A slight groan from the sofa called the doctor. “All over,” announced the boy doctor, with a desperate effort to assume the air of one used to making such announcements, and rendered callous by long centuries of habit. “I’ll let the Coroner’s officer know. Don’t mind my running off, do you? Fearfully busy, just now.”