“A pen, a pen!” said the doctor. There was one lying on the table; he endeavored to introduce it into the mouth of the patient, who, in the midst of his convulsions, was making vain attempts to vomit; but the jaws were so clenched that the pen could not pass them. This second attack was much more violent than the first, and he had slipped from the couch to the ground, where he was writhing in agony. The doctor left him in this paroxysm, knowing that he could do nothing to alleviate it, and, going up to Noirtier, said abruptly:

“How do you find yourself?⁠—well?”

“Yes.”

“Have you any weight on the chest; or does your stomach feel light and comfortable⁠—eh?”

“Yes.”

“Then you feel pretty much as you generally do after you have had the dose which I am accustomed to give you every Sunday?”