Free In the Wet by Nevil Shute

before morning, Mr. Hargreaves.”
    I nodded. “I should think so. There’s nothing we can do?
    “Nothing,” she said. “The only possible thing would be an operation now, at once, and I can’t do that. Even if I had my medicine case I couldn’t do anything for him, except give him a dope to ease the pain. He’s having a great deal of pain.”
    “I know,” I said. “I can see that.”
    “I think our job now is to make things easy for him,” she said quietly. “I don’t think it would hurt him to have a few pipes of that opium stuff. I don’t think it will make any difference, now.” She looked up at me. “Would you think that very terrible?”
    I shook my head. “No. I should think it was the kindest thing that you could do.”
    “It’s very unprofessional,” she muttered. “I don’t know … If he were quieter, it might conserve his strength …”
    I said, “I should let him have it.”
    She nodded gravely. “I think one ought to.” She hesitated, and then turned to me. “I don’t think it will kill him,” she said quietly, “but if he takes enough to put him under, I think he may die before he comes to. I want you to understand exactly the position, Mr. Hargreaves.”
    “Nevertheless,” I said, “I think you ought to let him have it.” I hesitated, and then I said, “If I may, I should like to sit and talk to him a little, while he’s going off.”
    Behind us, the darkness was closing down. “Of course,” she said. “I’ve never seen this stuff work, and I don’t know how long it will take. If it’s like any of the others, there’ll be a drowsy period when the pain is almost gone, before he goes to sleep. He may be able to talk sensibly for a few minutes then.”
    The shadows crept out of the room behind and enveloped us; on the far side of the clearing we could see the beasts of the field, waiting. She shivered a little. “Those animals …” she said. She turned back to her patient, and then said, “For goodness sake!”
    “What is it, Sister?” And then I saw what it was. The room behind us was indeed nearly in darkness, because the kerosene in the lamp had come to an end, and there was now only a small flickering blue flame above the wick. “Never mind,” I said. “There’s a candle somewhere.”
    I went into the room, and called, “Liang!” He came at once from the other room, and a ray of candlelight shone from the door. He looked at the lamp with concern and went straight to it and shook it, but it was bone dry. I went to my case and opened it, and took out my torch. “I’ve gotthis,” I said, and it shone a pool of yellow light upon the floor. “Have you got any more candles, Liang?”
    “Little candle,” he said ruefully. “Very small.” He went back into the other room, and returned with about an inch of candle burning in a saucer.
    “Is that all there is?” I asked.
    He nodded.
    “No more candles?”
    He shook his head.
    “No kerosene? Nothing more to burn for a light?”
    He shook his head again.
    I turned to the sister. “We’ll be in darkness before morning, I’m afraid. The candle won’t last long, and this torch is very dim.”
    She laughed shortly. “It’s just one thing after another tonight, Mr. Hargreaves. It doesn’t matter much, after he’s gone to sleep. We’ll have to keep watch over him, but when he’s dropped off we’d better put the lights out, so as to have them if we need them later on. He may come to again.”
    “I should think that’s the best thing to do,” I said.
    She turned to Liang. “Give him a pipe now, if he wants it.”
    “One pipe?” he asked.
    “Give him as many as he wants, to kill the pain and send him to sleep,” she said.
    He took the torch from me, and padded off into the next room. He came back presently with the long metal pipe and the spirit lamp and the brown stuff in the saucer that we had seen upon the chair beside the bed as we came in. He put them down upon the chair again, and