The banker felt that he had done something to nullify one cause of uneasiness, and yet he was scarcely the easier.  He did not measure the quantity of diseased motive which had made him wish for Lydgate’s good-will, but the quantity was none the less actively there, like an irritating agent in his blood.  A man vows, and yet will not cast away the means of breaking his vow.  Is it that he distinctly means to break it?  Not at all; but the desires which tend to break it are at work in him dimly, and make their way into his imagination, and relax his muscles in the very moments when he is telling himself over again the reasons for his vow.  Raffles, recovering quickly, returning to the free use of his odious powers—­how could Bulstrode wish for that?  Raffles dead was the image that brought release, and indirectly he prayed for that way of release, beseeching that, if it were possible, the rest of his days here below might be freed from the threat of an ignominy which would break him utterly as an instrument of God’s service.  Lydgate’s opinion was not on the side of promise that this prayer would be fulfilled; and as the day advanced, Bulstrode felt himself getting irritated at the persistent life in this man, whom he would fain have seen sinking into the silence of death imperious will stirred murderous impulses towards this brute life, over which will, by itself, had no power.  He said inwardly that he was getting too much worn; he would not sit up with the patient to-night, but leave him to Mrs. Abel, who, if necessary, could call her husband.

At six o’clock, Raffles, having had only fitful perturbed snatches of sleep, from which he waked with fresh restlessness and perpetual cries that he was sinking away, Bulstrode began to administer the opium according to Lydgate’s directions.  At the end of half an hour or more he called Mrs. Abel and told her that he found himself unfit for further watching.  He must now consign the patient to her care; and he proceeded to repeat to her Lydgate’s directions as to the quantity of each dose.  Mrs. Abel had not before known anything of Lydgate’s prescriptions; she had simply prepared and brought whatever Bulstrode ordered, and had done what he pointed out to her.  She began now to ask what else she should do besides administering the opium.

“Nothing at present, except the offer of the soup or the soda-water:  you can come to me for further directions.  Unless there is any important change, I shall not come into the room again to-night.  You will ask your husband for help if necessary.  I must go to bed early.”

“You’ve much need, sir, I’m sure,” said Mrs. Abel, “and to take something more strengthening than what you’ve done.”