out quietly, but hopelessly.

Mr. Strafford still waited, with some anxiety, for the decisive
sentence. He had made up his mind that other questions beside and beyond
that of Christian's own fate might be made to depend upon it; and it
cannot be said truly that he felt much sorrow at the idea of its being
unfavourable. It was clear and decided enough, at any rate.

"He may live for two or three days. To attempt to move him would be only
to hasten his death."

"You are certain that there is no hope?"

"Not a shadow."

"Do you think it likely his mind will grow any clearer towards the
last?"

"I do not think it; in fact, it is extremely improbable. You see, his
wandering is simply the result of weakness; as the weakness increases,
the mental faculties will probably cease gradually to act at all. One
can't, of course, say positively when; if he becomes quite unconscious
to-night, death will probably follow in the course of the next
twenty-four hours."

"Poor fellow! There is little, then, that can be done for him?"

"Next to nothing. He wants a nurse to give him some little nourishment
when he wakes up, and that is pretty nearly all."