Yes, all was well!
Now to put the room tidy and conceal any evidence of the unexpected conflict.
I looked at the old man's head. I had made a nasty bump on it which showed plainly. Why didn't the strychnine begin to act; then he could struggle and hurt himself!
He must have more. He was still quite quiet. Another injection and I sat down to wait.
Was the infernal stuff never going to act? I decided to go and meet Polly and delay her entrance to the room; she was due to be back.
I stopped her at the door, and said. "He's quiet and peaceful now; have you got the medicine?"
"Yes, doctor," she answered breathlessly.
At that moment, a fiendish scream rang through the house, and we both rushed to the old man.
He had started up from the sofa, and was in the midst of a severe convulsion, which very shortly brought his head and his heels almost together. The strychnine was at work.
"Oh, how awful," said Polly; "I never saw him like that before."
I did not attempt any treatment when Polly
