which might each contain about half a pint, then opening the bottle and
filling the cups with a brown-coloured liquor, he handed one to me, and
taking a seat opposite to me he lifted the other, nodded, and saying to
me: 'Health and welcome,' placed it to his lips and drank.

* * * * *

At the dead hour of night, it might be about two, I was awakened from
sleep by a cry which sounded from the room immediately below that in
which I slept. I knew the cry, it was the cry of my mother, and I also
knew its import; yet I made no effort to rise, for I was for the moment
paralysed. Again the cry sounded, yet still I lay motionless--the
stupidity of horror was upon me. A third time, and it was then that, by
a violent effort bursting the spell which appeared to bind me, I sprang
from the bed and rushed downstairs. My mother was running wildly about
the room; she had awoke and found my father senseless in the bed by her
side. I essayed to raise him, and after a few efforts supported him in
the bed in a sitting posture. My brother now rushed in, and snatching up
a light that was burning, he held it to my father's face. 'The surgeon,
the surgeon!' he cried; then dropping the light, he ran out of the room
followed by my mother; I remained alone, supporting the senseless form of
my father; the light had been extinguished by the fall, and an almost
total darkness reigned in the room. The form pressed heavily against my
bosom--at last methought it moved. Yes, I was light, there was a heaving
of the breast, and then a gasping. Were those words which I heard? Yes,
they were words, low and indistinct at first, and then audible. The mind
of the dying man was reverting to former scenes. I heard him mention
names which I had often heard him mention before. It was an awful
moment; I felt stupefied, but I still contrived to support my dying
father. There was a pause, again my father spoke: I heard him speak of