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Extracted from the Journal of EZRA JENNINGS-6
"Not before midnight," I whispered back. "Say nothing, and sit still." Betteredge dropped to the lowest depth of familiarity with me, without a struggle to save himself. He answered by a wink! Looking next towards Mr. Blake, I found him as restless as ever in his bed; fretfully wondering why the influence of the laudanum had not begun to assert itself yet. To tell him, in his present humour, that the more he fidgeted and wondered, the longer he would delay the result for which we were now waiting, would have been simply useless. The wiser course to take was to dismiss the idea of the opium from his mind, by leading him insensibly to think of something else. With this view, I encouraged him to talk to me; contriving so to direct the conversation, on my side, as to lead it back again to t
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