have one got ready for him?'

'Directly,' said Amabel, ringing. 'How is he?'

'He is in a stupor; it is not sleep. He is frightfully ill, I never felt
anything like the heat of his skin. But that stifling hole would account
for much; very likely he may revive, when we get him into a better
atmosphere. No one has attended to him properly. It is a terrible thing
to be ill in a foreign country without a friend!'

Arnaud came, and Amabel sent for the hostess, while Guy returned to his
charge. Little care had been taken for the solitary traveller on foot,
too ill to exact attention, and whose presence drove away custom; but
when his case was taken up by a Milord Inglese, the people of the inn
were ready to do their utmost to cause their neglect to be forgotten,
and everything was at the disposal of the Signora. The rooms were many,
but very small, and the best she could contrive was to choose three
rooms on the lower floor, rather larger than the rest, and opening into
each other, as well as into the passage, so that it was possible to
produce a thorough draught. Under her superintendence, Anne made the
apartment look comfortable, and almost English, and sending word that
all was ready, she proceeded to establish herself in the corresponding
rooms on the floor above.

Philip was perfectly unconscious when he was carried to his new room.
His illness had continued about a week, and had been aggravated first by
his incredulous and determined resistance of it, and then by the neglect
with which he had been treated. It was fearful to see how his great
strength had been cut down, as there he lay with scarcely a sign of
life, except his gasping, labouring breath. Guy stood over him, let the
air blow in from the open window, sprinkled his face with vinegar, and
moistened his lips, longing for the physician, for whom, however,
he knew he must wait many hours. Perplexed, ignorant of the proper
treatment, fearing to do harm, and extremely anxious, he still was
almost rejoiced: for there was no one to whom he was so glad to do a
service, and a hope arose of full reconciliation.

The patient was somewhat revived by the fresh air, he breathed more
freely, moved, and made a murmuring sound, as if striving painfully for
a word.

'"Da bere",' at last he said; and if Guy had not known its meaning, it
would have been plain from the gasping, parched manner in which it was
uttered.

'Some water?' said Guy, holding it to his lips, and on