With the last words, Dick heaved a deep sigh. It was nothing new to find that his darling sin was an inclined plane, down which he continually slid into the grasp of divers other sins, less to his taste; but never before had it done him so unkind a trick as to fling him into the hands of a man quick to see, and unscrupulous to use, the chance of turning him to account. Yet so completely had all courage and energy of will died out of him, and so thoroughly was he scared at the idea of a prison as a possible termination of his career, that he dared propose to himself only a feeble and covert resistance to Doctor Remy's stern domination. There was present safety in outward submission; and as for the future!--he smiled in spite of his discomfiture. At the Hall, Doctor Remy was a little startled to find Major Bergan in the clutch of so severe an attack of delirium tremens that death was likely to be the speedy result. It did not suit his plans that the Major's decease should follow so quickly upon the completion of the forged will; he wanted a little more time to mark out and make smooth his future course, and obliterate his more recent track. He therefore set to work, with right good will, and science considerably in advance of the times, to strengthen and quiet his patient, and so prolong his life; certain that, whenever the strong hand of medical authority was withdrawn, he would immediately drink himself into a relapse, which could be allowed to prove fatal. His efforts were not without a measure of success; in three hours, he had so far reduced the fever and excitement that he ventured to leave Rue in charge, while he paid a brief visit to another patient, who had sent for him four or five times during the evening. This desertion of his post was fatal to him. In spite of Rue's best endeavors, Major Bergan succeeded in getting possession of the brandy bottle, and draining it to the last drop. When Doctor Remy returned, it was to find him once more a raving maniac, and to learn to his consternation, that Bergan had been sent for. The Major would die, there was no help for that; but something must be done to prevent the arrival of his nephew until after the true will--and all other wills--had been found and destroyed, and the false one put in its place;--even, if possible, until after the funeral was over, the will read, and the property put into his own hands. Once in possession, he had reason to believe that he could not, or would not, be disturbed. His stay at the Major's bedside was short, and principally spent in profound meditation; which was set down by the lookers-on to the account of his deep solicitude for the patient. His course was soon decided upon. In less than two hours he was back at the Rat-Hole, in deep conversation with the convalescent, who was known as "Big Ben." Its purport may be gathered from the closing remarks. "You hit pretty hard, I suppose," said the doctor.