“That’s a hair of a dog that has often bitten me.”

The wine soon got into his weakened head, and he dropped asleep.

“Another draught when he wakes,” said the doctor, “but from a fresh bottle.”

“We’ll finish this one to your health in the servants’ hall,” said honest John Baker.

Dr. Garner staid there all night, keeping up the patient’s strength with eggs and brandy, and everything, in short, except medicine; and he also administered champagne, but at much longer intervals.

At one o’clock next day the patient gave a dismal groan; Walter and the others started up in alarm.

“Good!” said the doctor, calmly; “now I’ll go to bed.  Call me if there’s any fresh symptom.”

At six o’clock old Baker burst in the room:  “Sir, sir, he have swore at me twice.  The Lord be praised!”

“Excellent!” said the doctor.  “Now tell me what disagrees with him most after champagne?”

“Why, Green Chartreuse, to be sure,” said old Baker.

“Then give him a table-spoonful,” said the doctor.  “Get me some hot water.”

“Which first?” inquired Baker.

“The patient, to be sure,” said Dr. Garner.

Soon after this the doctor stood by his patient’s side, and found him writhing, and, to tell the truth, he was using bad language occasionally, though he evidently tried not to.

Dr. Garner looked at his watch.  “I think there’s time to catch the evening train.”

“Why,” said Walter, “surely you would not desert us; this is the crisis, is it not?”

“It’s something more than that,” said the doctor; “the disease knows its old place; it has gone back to the foot like a shot; and if you can keep it there, the patient will live; he’s not the sort of patient that strikes his colors while there’s a bastion left to defend.”

These words pleased the old Colonel so that he waved a feeble hand above his head, then groaned most dismally, and ground his teeth to avoid profanity.

The doctor, with exquisite gentleness, drew the clothes off his feet, and sent for a lot of fleecy cotton or wool, and warned them all not to touch the bed, nor even to approach the lower part of it, and then he once more proposed to leave, and gave his reasons.

“Now, look here, you know, I have done my part, and if I give special instructions to the nurses, they can do the rest.  I’m rather dear, and why should you waste your money?”

“Dear!” said Walter, warmly; “you’re as cheap as dirt, and as good as gold, and the very sight of you is a comfort to us.  There’s a fast train at ten; I’ll drive you to the station after breakfast myself.  Your fees—­they are nothing to us.  We love him, and we are the happiest house in Christendom; we, that were the saddest.”

“Well,” said the doctor, “you north countrymen are hearty people.  I’ll stay till to-morrow morning—­indeed, I’ll stay till the afternoon, for my London day will be lost anyway.”