that you have some confidence in me," said Dalrymple. "I am of a
newer school than Doctor Taddei. If you will follow my directions, I
will almost promise that her most reverend excellency shall not die
before to-morrow."

He smiled now, as he gave the abbess her full title, for he began to
feel as though he had known Maria Addolorata for a long time, though he
had only had one glimpse of her eyes, just when she had raised her head
to get a look at him through the loophole of the gate. But he had not
forgotten them, and he felt that he knew them.

"I will do all you tell me," she answered quietly.

Dalrymple had some English medicines with him on his travels, and not
knowing what might be required of him at the convent, he had brought
with him a couple of tiny bottles.

"This when she coughs--ten drops," he said, handing the bottles to the
nun. "And five drops of this once an hour, until her chest feels freer."

He gave her minute directions, as far as he could, about the general
treatment of the patient, which Maria repeated and got by heart.

"I will let you know before twenty-three o'clock what the cardinal says
to the plan," she said. "In this way you will be able to come up by
daylight."

As Dalrymple took his leave, he held out his hand, forgetting that he
was in Italy.

"It is not our custom," said Maria Addolorata, thrusting each of her own
hands into the opposite sleeve.

But there was nothing cold in her tone. On the contrary, Dalrymple
fancied that she was almost on the point of laughing at that moment, and
he blushed at his awkwardness. But she could not see his face.

"Your most humble servant," he said, bowing to her.

"Good day, Signor Doctor," she answered, through the open door, as the
portress jingled her keys and prepared to follow Dalrymple.

So he took his departure, not without much satisfaction at the result of
his first attempt.

CHAPTER VII.

SOR TOMMASO recovered but slowly, though his injuries were of themselves
not dangerous. His complexion was apoplectic and gouty, he was no longer
young, and before forty-eight hours had gone by his wounds were
decidedly inflamed and he had a little fever. At the same time he was by
no means a courageous man, and he was ready to cry out that he was dead,
whenever he felt himself worse. Besides this, he lost his temper several
times daily with Dalrymple, who resolutely refused to bleed him, and he
insisted upon eating and drinking more