An old crone, who proved to be his mother, and a young man, who held him down in bed by main force, tended him.

He was rambling in a frightful manner; and as his ravings turned upon the most loathly matters, it required some firmness to listen to them.
At a little distance from him, upon a bench, sat a stout, shrewd-looking, but benevolent little personage, somewhat between forty and fifty.

This was Doctor Hodges.

He had a lancet in his hand, with which he had just operated upon the sufferer, and he was in the act of wiping it on a cloth.

As Leonard entered the vault, the doctor observed to the attendants of the sick man, "He will recover.