e the cause which
had produced his peculiarity of complexion; so as to put me at my ease
before we entered on the delicate private inquiry which had brought us
together.

"I beg your pardon," said this unfortunate man, "for not having warned
you of my disfigurement, before I entered the room. There are hundreds of
people discolored as I am, in the various parts of the civilized world;
and I supposed that you had met, in the course of your experience, with
other examples of my case. The blue tinge in my complexion is produced by
the effect on the blood of Nitrate of Silver--taken internally. It is the
only medicine which relieves sufferers like me from an otherwise
incurable malady. We have no alternative but to accept the consequences
for the sake of the cure."

He did not mention what his malady had been; and I abstained, it is
needless to say, from questioning him further. I got used to his
disfigurement in the course of my relations with him; and I should no
doubt have forgotten my blue man in attending to more absorbing matters
of interest, if the effects of Nitrate of Silver as a medicine had not
been once more unexpectedly forced on my attention, in another quarter,
and under circumstances which surprised me in no ordinary degree.

Having saved Papa on the brink of--let us say, his twentieth precipice,
it was next necessary to stay a few days longer and reconcile him to the
hardship of being rescued in spite of himself. You would have been
greatly shocked, if you had seen how he suffered. He gnashed his
expensive teeth; he tore his beautifully manufactured hair. In the
fervour of his emotions, I have no doubt he would have burst his new
stays--if I had not taken them away, and sold them half-price, and made
(to that small extent) a profit out of our calamity to set against the
loss. Do what one may in the detestable system of modern society, the
pivot on which it all turns is Money. Money, when you are saving Freedom!
Money, when you are saving Papa! Is there no remedy for this? A word in
your ear. Wait till the next revolution!

During the time of my absence, I had of course corresponded with Lucilla.

Her letters to me--very sad and very short--reported a melancholy state
of things at Dimchurch. While I had been away, the dreadful epileptic
seizures had attacked Oscar with increasing frequency and increasing
severity. The moment I could see my way to getting back to England, I
wrote to Lucilla to cheer her