riously ill?"

"Ah," said Mr. Weiss, "that is what I want you to tell me. I am very
much puzzled about him."

"But what is the nature of his illness? What does he complain of?"

"He makes very few complaints of any kind although he is obviously ill.
But the fact is that he is hardly ever more than half awake. He lies in
a kind of dreamy stupor from morning to night."

This struck me as excessively strange and by no means in agreement with
the patient's energetic refusal to see a doctor.

"But," I asked, "does he never rouse completely?"

"Oh, yes," Mr. Weiss answered quickly; "he rouses from time to time and
is then quite rational, and, as you may have gathered, rather obstinate.
That is the peculiar and puzzling feature in the case; this alternation
between a state of stupor and an almost normal and healthy condition.
But perhaps you had better see him and judge for yourself. He had a
rather severe attack just now. Follow me, please. The stairs are rather
dark."

The stairs were very dark, and I noticed that they were without any
covering of carpet, or even oil-cloth, so that our footsteps resounded
dismally as if we were in an empty house. I stumbled up after my guide,
feeling my way by the hand-rail, and on the first floor followed him
into a room similar in size to the one below and very barely furnished,
though less squalid than the other. A single candle at the farther end
threw its feeble light on a figure in the bed, leaving the rest of the
room in a dim twilight.

As Mr. Weiss tiptoed into the chamber, a woman--the one who had spoken
to me below--rose from a chair by the bedside and quietly left the room
by a second door. My conductor halted, and looking fixedly at the figure
in the bed, called out:

"Philip! Philip! Here is the doctor come to see you."

He paused for a moment or two, and, receiving no answer, said: "He seems
to be dozing as usual. Will you go and see what you can make of him?"

I stepped forward to the bedside, leaving Mr. Weiss at the end of the
room near the door by which we had entered, where he remained, slowly
and noiselessly pacing backwards and forwards in the semi-obscurity. By
the light of the candle I saw an elderly man with good features and a
refined, intelligent and even attractive face, but dreadfully emaciated,
bloodless and sallow. He lay quite motionless except for the scarcely
perceptible rise and fall of his chest; his eyes were nearly closed, his
features relax