He was now ill--feverish and oppressed. Through the whole of
the following week they nursed and waited upon him without his
asking a single question as to where he was or who they were; during
all which time Falconer saw no one but De Fleuri and the many poor
fellows who called to inquire after him and the result of their
supposed success. He never left the house, but either watched by
the bedside, or waited in the next room. Often would the patient
get out of bed, driven by the longing for drink or for opium,
gnawing him through all the hallucinations of delirium; but he was
weak, and therefore manageable. If in any lucid moments he thought
where he was, he no doubt supposed that he was in a hospital, and
probably had sense enough to understand that it was of no use to
attempt to get his own way there. He was soon much worn, and his
limbs trembled greatly. It was absolutely necessary to give him
stimulants, or he would have died, but Robert reduced them gradually
as he recovered strength.
But there was an infinite work to be done beyond even curing him of
his evil habits. To keep him from strong drink and opium, even till
the craving after them was gone, would be but the capturing of the
merest outwork of the enemy's castle. He must be made such that,
even if the longing should return with tenfold force, and all the
means for its gratification should lie within the reach of his
outstretched hand, he would not touch them.
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