The last reflection hurt him so much, that he took at once to his bed; apparently resolved to keep that, at all events.

‘This,’ he said, ‘from its wildness, should be another of those dreams that have so broken my rest of late. In mercy to me! Pho! The old simpleton has gone mad.’

‘There is no retreat,’ said Nicholas, in an agony of supplication; ‘no withdrawing! All regret will be unavailing, and deep and bitter it must be. What can I say, that will induce you to pause at this last moment? What can I do to save you?’