About eight o'clock in the morning
Both the doctor and he had convinced themselves that Lionel was now asleep -- no lethargic stupor this time , but actual sleep , from which everything was to be hoped . Maurice would not speak ; he wrote on slips of paper when he had anything to say . And so the long night went by , until the window-panes slowly changed from black to blue , and from blue to gray . About eight o'clock in the morning the old doctor came out of the room , and Maurice knew in a moment the nature of his tidings . `` All is going well , '' he whispered . `` The temperature is steadily decreasing -- nearly three degrees since last night -- and he is now in a profound sleep ; the crisis is over , and happily over , as I imagine . I 'm going along to tell his mother and Francie -- and to go to bed for a bit . ''