service with a thousand or so fewer francs
than the sum ho had determined on as the
limit of his savings.

Sleep brought counsel to Paul, however,
and he arose in the morning prepared to
go through the term of service he had set
himself. But whether sleep had brought
counsel to Sir John or not, it is certain that
he woke in a humour worse, if possible, than
that in which he had gone to bed.

He did not feel so much recovered from
the indisposition of yesterday as he had
expected to feel. He was extremely feeble,
except in temper; there, he was as vigorous
and ferocious as a healthy tiger with a fine
appetite and nothing to eat.

Paul attended on him silent and watchful.

At length he said, with grave deliberation:
"You must have a physician, Sir
John."

The reply was a volley of oaths, so
fiercely uttered that they left the baronet
panting and glaring breathlessly from his
pillow.

"Excuse the liberty, Sir John," said
Paul, with a shade more gravity, but
otherwise quite unmoved, "but you must have
a physician. You are a little feverish. It
is nothing. A little draught will make you
quite strong soon for your journey."

"A lit-tle draught," muttered Sir John,
trying to mimic Paul's accent. "A little
devil!"

"In this country fevers go quick. Excuse
the liberty, Sir John. If you allow, I
will go for a physician myself."

The man's steady persistence had some
effect on his master. Sir John moved his
head restlessly, and said, "Go? Where
will you go? You don't know any of the
doctors here, curse them!"

"There is a good and esteemed English
inn, Sir John, lives in——"

"Damn the English physician! You
infernal idiot, do you think I will have any
of them, jabbering and boasting, and telling
in the place that they have been attending
Sir John Gale? Do you think I want a
pack of British fools rushing up here to
stare at me?"

"Bone, bene," said Paul. In his secret
mind he had but a poor opinion of the English
faculty, whose views, on the subject of
bleeding especially, appeared to him to be
terribly limited. " Benissimo! Better so,
Sir John. I will fetch a most excellent
medico. One who will cure you immediately—
Dr. Maffei. He is well known, Sir John."

"Well known, you fool?"

"Well known among the Italians, Sir
John," added Paul, astutely. "The signori
Inglesi mostly employ their own physicians."

"Whatever he may say, I shall start for
Naples on the nineteenth: remember that!"

In this way Sir John gave a tacit consent
to the visit of the Italian doctor.

When that gentleman arrived at Villa
Chiari he declared that there was no fever
about Sir John. Paul had been mistaken
there. But he let slip another ugly word,
which Paul, who was present during the
whole interview (acting as interpreter
occasionally, for Sir John's Italian and the
doctor's French sometimes came to a cul
de sac, out of which Paul had to extricate
them), smothered up as well as he could, in
the hope that it might not reach Sir John's
ears.

"I got a fall from my horse last year,
and was badly hurt, and had a long illness
in consequence," said Sir John, feeling that
the phenomenon of so wealthy and important
a personage as himself being reduced
to a condition of great weakness needed
some explanation: "I think it shook me
more than they thought at the time. That's
the only way I can account for being in
such a devil of a state."

"Ah, yes. And then, you see, you are
getting old, and you have probably been
rather intemperate in your youth," answered
Dr. Maffei, with disconcerting sincerity.

Sir John began to think he had been
wrong in not having an English physician,
if he must have any at all.

Dr. Maflei prescribed some medicine, and
a plain, but nourishing diet.

"I am going to Naples on the nineteenth,"
said Sir John, brusquely.

"I do not know. I do not think I should
advise your making a journey so soon."

"I shall not trouble you, sir, for your
opinion on that point. I am going on that
day. Good-morning."

The wild-beast temper had leaped out
and shown its fangs so suddenly that the
doctor's brown smooth-shaven face remained
for a few seconds absolutely blank
with amazement. Then he bowed silently;
and, with a certain dignity, despite his
short, stubby figure and ungraceful gait,
walked out of the room.

An amazement of a livelier and more
agreeable nature overspread his countenance
when, driving down the hill in his
fiacre, he inspected the bank-note which
Paul had handed to him in an envelope.
Its amount was more than ten times what