with cautious steps, he perceived that, although
worn and wasted by long illness, the patient was a man still in the
very prime of life. His dark hair and beard, which he wore long, were
untinged with gray, and his forehead showed no touch of age. His dark
eyes were wide open, and his lips slightly parted, his whole features
exhibiting an expression of energetic action, even to wildness. Still he
was sleeping; and, as Craggs whispered, he seldom slept otherwise, even
when in health. With all the quietness of a trained practitioner, Billy
took down the watch that was pinned to the curtain and proceeded to
count the pulse.

"A hundred and thirty-eight," muttered he, as he finished; and then,
gently displacing the bedclothes, laid his hand upon the heart.

With a long-drawn sigh, like that of utter weariness, the sick man moved
his head round and fixed his eyes upon him.

"The doctor!" said he, in a deep-toned but feeble voice. "Leave me,
Craggs--leave me alone with him."

And the Corporal slowly retired, turning as he went to look back towards
the bed, and evidently going with reluctance.

"Is it fever?" asked the sick man, in a faint but unfaltering accent.

"It's a kind of cerebral congestion,--a matter of them membranes that's
over the brain, with, of course, _febrilis generalis_."

The accentuation of these words, marked as it was by the strongest
provincialism of the peasant, attracted the sick man's attention, and he
bent upon him a look at once searching and severe.

"What are you--who are you?" cried he, angrily.

"What I am is n't so aisy to say; but who I am is clean beyond me."

"Are you a doctor?" asked the sick man, fiercely.

"I'm afear'd I'm not, in the sense of a _gradum Universitatis_,--a
diplomia; but sure maybe Paracelsus himself just took to it, like me,
having a vocation, as one might say."

"Ring that bell," said the other, peremptorily.

And Billy obeyed without speaking.

"What do you mean by this, Craggs?" said the Viscount, trembling with
passion. "Who have you brought me? What beggar have you picked off the
highway? Or is he the travelling fool of the district?"

But the anger that supplied strength hitherto now failed to impart
energy, and he sank back wasted and exhausted. The Corporal bent over
him, and spoke something in a low whisper, but whether the words were
heard or not, the sick man now lay still, breathing heavily.

"Can you do nothing for him?" asked Craggs, peevis