Gorman started up, and this time did not sit down, but with a trembling step moved to the fireplace. He stretched out his hand to grasp the bottle, and almost overturned it, for just at the moment his own figure intercepted the ray of light, and threw the spot where it stood into deep shadow. "What's that?" asked Boone. "It's only me," said Gorman, "getting you your physic. I almost upset it in the dark. Here now, drink it off. I can't find the cup, but you can take it out of the bottle." "You won't let _him_ come near when you give it, will you?" asked Boone anxiously. "No, no; come, open your mouth." Boone hesitated to do so, but Gorman used a little force. His hands were steady now! His heart was steeled to the deed, and the cry which Boone was about to utter was choked by the liquid flowing down his throat. Gorman had flung him back with such violence that he lay stunned, while the murderer replaced the bottle on the chimney-piece and hurried to the door. A gentle knock at it arrested him, but his indecision was momentary. He opened the door softly, and going out, said to Mrs Craw in a whisper-- "He's sleeping now. I found it hard to get him to give up talking, for he waked up soon after I went in; but he's all right now. I suppose the medicine is beginning to operate; he told me he took it himself just before I came in." "Took it himself!" exclaimed Mrs Craw. "Impossible." "Well, I don't know, but he's better now. I would let him rest a while if I were you." "Stay, sir! I'll go fetch a light," said Mrs Craw. "Never mind; I know the stair well," said Gorman hurriedly; "don't mind a light; I shan't want it." He was right. If any man ever wanted darkness rather than light--thick, heavy, impenetrable darkness--it was D. Gorman at that time. "Took it himself!" repeated Mrs Craw in unabated surprise as she closed the street door. "It's impossible. He's got no more strength than an unborn hinfant. I must go an' see to this." Lighting a candle, she went softly into the sick chamber and looked at the invalid, who was apparently asleep, but breathing heavily. She then went to the chimney-piece and began to examine the phials there. "My!" she exclaimed suddenly, with a look of alarm, "if he han't bin an' drunk up all the tinctur' o' rhubarb! An' the laudanum-bottle standin' close beside it too! _What_ a mercy he didn't drink that! Well, lucky for him there wasn't much in it, for an overdose of anything in his state would be serious." Full of her discovery, Mrs Craw set the candle on the table, and sat down on the chair by the bedside to think about it; but the more she thought about it the more puzzled she was. "Took it himself," she said, reverting to Gorman's words. "Impossible!"