Supper over, Mrs. Sharpe brought up her patient's. But she carried her
coffee, and left the doctored tea behind.
"We are to escape to-night," she said to Mollie. "Be ready. We will
start at ten. Don't ask me to explain now. I feel nervous and am going
down."
Before an hour had elapsed the drug began its work. Mrs. Oleander nodded
over her knitting; Sally was drowsy over her dishes; Peter yawned audibly
before the fire.
"I don't know what makes me so sleepy this evening," Mrs. Oleander said,
gaping. "The weak tea, I suppose. Peter, close up early to-night; I
think I'll go to bed."
"I'll let the dogs loose now," said Peter. "I'm blamed sleepy myself."
The old man departed. Very soon the hoarse barking of the dogs was heard
as they scampered out of their kennel. Peter returned to find the two
old women nodding in company.
"You had better go to bed," suggested Mrs. Sharpe. "I'm going myself.
Good-night."
She quitted the kitchen. Mrs. Oleander, scarcely able to keep her eyes
open, rose up also.
"I will go. I never felt so sleepy in my life.
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