"I'd thought of that, sir, and should have done so before, only I was afraid that I might put down the wrong thing--something about the nurses, you know, when they would have read it, and then, perhaps, I shouldn't have had a chance to say any more. And 'tisn't really, sir, it isn't nonsense about them. You think I'm wandering, and don't believe it; and it's just the same with the doctors--they don't believe it neither. There was one poor chap on the other side of the ward, down at the bottom there--he told the doctor his nurse neglected him, and drank his wine, putting in water instead, beside not giving him his medicine regular; so the old doctor called for the nurse, and--" "But you must not talk any more," said Septimus kindly, "you are getting exhausted." "I ain't," said the old man angrily; "it does me good, revives me; and you don't believe me, that's what it is." "Yes, I do, indeed," cried Septimus. "Then let me finish," whispered the old man. "Doctor Hardon called and asked her where she saw the entry. There, now, there," whimpered Matt, "see what you've done: you made me upset a stickful of matter, and got me all in a pye again. No; all right, sir, I see, I see--he asked her about it before the patient, speaking very sharply, for the doctors mean well, sir. And then what did the old crocodile do, sir, but just turn her eyes towards the whitewash, smooth her apron, raise her hands a bit, and then, half smiling, looks at the doctor like so much pickled innocence, but never says a word; while he, just to comfort the poor fellow, told him to keep up, and it should all be seen to; and then there was a bit of whispering between the doctor and the nurse, and then he went off. But I could see who was believed, for I heard the doctor mutter something about sick man's fancies as he came across to me. That poor chap died, sir!" Just then, Septimus gave the old man a meaning look, for one of the nurses came up with a glass of wine, and smiled and curtsied to the visitor. "I hope he ain't been talking, sir?" said the woman, in a harsh grating voice with the corners a little rubbed down; "getting on charming, ain't he, sir? only he will talk too much.--Now drink your wine up, there's a good soul. Don't sip it, but toss it down, and it will do you twice as much good;" and while the old man, with the assistance of his visitor, raised himself a little, she gave his pillow two or three vengeful punches and shakes as she snatched it off the bed, the result of her efforts being visible in a slit across the middle, which she placed undermost. "Yes," muttered Matt when the woman had gone. "Yes; toss it down, so as not to taste it. Why, that was half water--beautiful wines and spirits as they have here, sir. That's the very one herself, sir. She killed him." "Killed who?" exclaimed Septimus, horrified.