s hat, and made a low obeisance before the sick
lady.

"I wish your most reverend excellency a good rest and speedy recovery,"
he said. "I am your most reverend excellency's most humble servant."

Maria Addolorata led him out into the antechamber. There she paused, and
they were alone together for a moment, all the doors being closed. The
doctor stood still beside her, waiting for her to speak.

"What do you think?" she asked.

"I do not wish to say anything," he answered.

"What do you wish me to say? A stroke of air, a cold, a bronchitis, a
pleurisy, a pneumonia. Thanks be to Heaven, there is little fever. What
do you wish me to say? For the stroke of air, a little good wine; for
the cold, warm covering; for the bronchitis, the tea of marshmallows;
for the pleurisy, severe blistering; for the pneumonia, a good mustard
plaster; for the general system, the black draught; above all, nothing
to eat. Frictions with hot oil will also do good. It is the practice of
medicine by proxy, my lady mother. What do you wish me to say? I am
disposed. I am her most reverend excellency's very humble servant. But I
cannot perform miracles. Pray to the Madonna to perform them. I have
not even seen the tip of her most reverend excellency's most wise
tongue. What can I do?"

"Well, then, come back to-morrow morning, and I will see you here," said
Maria Addolorata.

Sor Tommaso found the nuns waiting for him with their little lamp in the
corridor, and they led him back through the vaulted passages and
staircases and let him out into the night without a word.

The night was dark and cloudy. It had grown much darker since he had
come up, as the last lingering light of evening had faded altogether
from the sky. The October wind drew down in gusts from the mountains
above Subiaco, and blew the doctor's long cloak about so that it flapped
softly now and then like the wings of a night bird. After descending
some distance, he carefully set down his case upon the stones and
fumbled in his pockets for his snuffbox, which he found with some
difficulty. A gust blew up a grain of snuff into his right eye, and he
stamped angrily with the pain, hurting his foot against a rolling stone
as he did so. But he succeeded in getting his snuff to his nose at last.
Then he bent down in the dark to take up his case, which was close to
his feet, though he could hardly see it. The gusty south wind blew the
long skirts of his cloak over his head and made the