CHAPTER XXXII.
THE TURRET CHAMBER.
When mistress Watson had, as gently as if she had been his mother, bound up Richard's wounded head, she gave him a composing draught, and sat down by his bedside.

But as soon as she saw it begin to take effect, she withdrew, in the certainty that he would not move for some hours at least.

Although he did fall asleep, however, Richard's mind was too restless and anxious to yield itself to the natural influence of the potion.

He had given his word to his father that he would ride on the morrow; the morrow had come, and here he was! Hence the condition which the drug superinduced was rather that of dreaming than sleep, the more valuable element, repose, having little place in the result.
The key was in the lock, and Tom Fool as he listened softly turned it, then lifted the latch, peeped in, and entered.

Richard started to his elbow, and stared wildly about him.