u at death's
door. Father Bonifazio knows a great deal about doctoring; he formed a
correct opinion as to your condition, sent for me, and----"

"Then you are a doctor too," said Salvator, in a faint, melancholy
tone.

"No," answered the young gentleman, while a bright colour came to his
cheek, "my dear, renowned master, I am not a doctor like Signor
Splendiano Accoramboni; I am a surgeon. I thought I should have sunk
into the ground with terror--with joy--when Father Bonifazio told me
Salvator Rosa was lying sick to death in Strada Vergognona and
requiring my assistance. I hastened here, opened a vein in your left
arm, and you were saved. We brought you here to this cool, airy room,
where you used to live before. Look around you; there is the easel
which you left behind you; there are one or two sketches still,
preserved, like holy relics, by Dame Caterina. Your illness has had its
back broken. Simple remedies, which Father Bonifazio will give you, and
careful nursing will set you on your legs again. And now, permit me
once more to kiss this creative hand, which calls forth, as by magic,
the most hidden secrets of nature. Permit the poor Antonio Scacciati to
allow all his heart to stream forth in delight and fervent gratitude
that heaven vouchsafed to him the good fortune to save the life of the
glorious and renowned master, Salvator Rosa."

He again knelt, seized Salvator's hand, kissed it, and bedewed it with
hot tears as before.

"I cannot tell, dear Antonio," said Salvator, raising himself up a
little, "what strange spirit inspires you to exhibit such a profound
veneration for me. You say you are a surgeon, and that is a calling
which does not usually pair itself readily with art."

"When you have got some strength back, dear master," answered Antonio,
"there are many matters lying heavy at my heart which I will tell you
of."

"Do so," said Salvator; "place full confidence in me--you may, for I do
not know when a man's face went more truly to my very heart than does
yours. The more I look at you the more clear it becomes to me that
there is a great likeness in your face to that of the heavenly, godlike
lad--I mean the Sanzio." Antonio's eyes glowed with flashing fire; he
seemed to strive in vain to find words.

Just then Dame Caterina came in with Father Bonifazio, bringing a
draught which he had skilfully compounded, and which the sick man took,
and relished better than the Acherontic liquids of the Pyram