before he landed. He was released from arrest,
outrageous as his conduct had been, and again
had his choice of quarters. He went to other
stations, in the tropics, to Greece, and the
Mediterranean. He retained his taste for
Government House society, and as he grew
older got less testy. He began to think
of death and sepulture, and would have had
a friend in the West Indies take an oath that,
if he (James) died there, he should be buried in
the garments he wore at the time. The friend
declined to swear, but James did not quarrel
with him.

His last voyage was made as an amateur.
Our winter drove him to the West Indies
again, where he gave out ''confidentially"
that his reasons for leaving England were
very sad: a broken-off engagement with a
young and beautiful creature, and some trouble
in money matters. He had lost documents,
jewels, and family records, on board a vessel
which had foundered at sea. He was
unhappy, and he wanted solace. His former
opponent in the duel was commander-in-chief,
and he and James were capital friends.

The summer of '64 brought him back to
England, with Black John and a little dog, whose
name was not Psyche. As the creature is
probably living, she shall be nameless. Doctor
James must now have been quite seventy years
old. His friends of former days held by him to
the last; he was often ailing; and the kind ladies
of his Cape patron's family would take him out
driving in the park, and would have him to
dinner, with provision of suitable fruits and
cakes and coffee.

It was asserted that he aspired to the honour
of being a K.C.B., and that his new uniform
was ordered for the last levee of the season.
No doubt, his service entitled him to some
distinction; and his influence still existed
somewhere. One day he returned to his lodgings
from a carriage ride, shivering and feverish. He
went to bed, and despatched Black John with
his excuses from a dinner engagement for next
day, Sunday.

On that Sunday morning Black John went
into his master's room, as usual, to lay out his
body linen. Six towels were among the
invariable items of his toilet, and though Black
John never assisted at it personally, he was
aware that his master wrapped these cloths
about him; whether he did so for warmth, or to
conceal any personal defects in his emaciated
form, was a mystery. No wonder the form was
emaciated, for James had accustomed himself
for many years to periodical blood-lettings,
cither by leeches or lancet.

On Black John's return to the room, he found
his master worse, but nothing would elicit his
permission to send for the medical friend who
had been in attendance on him previously, for
bronchitis. The faithful valet was alarmed, but
he and the dog were the only watchers on the
sufferer throughout the sultry July day. James
lay dozing and powerless. It was after midnight
when he rallied.

He sat up and spoke to John, wandering at
times, and expressed concern at his long
attendance through so many hours; he would have
had John take some slight stimulant, which the
faithful soul declined. Suddenly James fainted
on his pillow. The valet used restoratives,
which revived him.

"John," gasped the, invalid, "this must be
death." But John did not think so.

"You are only weak, sir," he said: "let me
give you some champagne and water, or the
least drop of brandy in a wine-glass of water."
For James would take such stimulants in great
extremity, and he was now in great extremity.
He sipped a little from the glass, and said,
more gently than usual: "Have some yourself,
John; you need it, and you will not mind drinking
after me." They were his last distinct words.
John again declined refreshment, fearing he
might fall asleep, but, at his master's request,
went to lie down in an adjoining room; thinking
that "the general," as James chose to be
designated by his valet, would get some rest.

Always considerate to his dependents, "the
general" had been almost tender to John. He had
spoken to him of his lonely life. "It was not
always so, John," he had said: "once I had many
friends. I have some still, and those are very
good to me; but they are not the friends of
early times; they will think of me, though, and
if you want help, they will remember you for my
sake. Now go and lie down. I think I shall
sleep."

He never woke again. At daylight, John
entered the sick-room. The curtains were closed,
so he took the night-light and approached the
bed. "The general" had died without a struggle.
His eyes were closed. The worn features were
calm. There had been apparently no pain.

John drew the sheet over the face, and
descended to the kitchen for a charwoman, who
he knew would be there at that hour. He
summoned her to assist at the last toilet of the
dead "general." As she closed the door of the
room, he retreated to his own, and laid himself
down, tired out. He was closing his eyes, when
the charwoman hurried in. "What do you
mean," she said, "by calling me to lay out a
general, and the corpse is a woman's?"

John was utterly unprepared for this, although,
like many others, he had fancied the "general"
to be "different from other people in some way
or another." There had been floating suspicions
respecting the sex of the doctor, but John
declared he had never thoroughly shared in them.
He had lived with the "general" three years,
and, whatever doubt he might have had at first,
he had latterly dismissed from his mind.

According to John's account, the poor
creature—the "old girl," as the ghastly adept in
her calling terms her—was not treated in her
last toilet with the courtesy she had never wanted
during her miliiary career. Before the poor
corpse was laid in its grave, news reached the
registrar-general of the discovery, and he at
once called for a report from the proper
authority. The report was, "that after a post