fter a little, feeling very much reassured. He did not give
the impression of being gravely ill at all, he was so entirely himself.
I wrote a few letters and then returned, while he ate his luncheon, a
baked apple--but this was painful to him and he soon desisted. He talked
again a little, with the same liveliness, but as he began to be drowsy,
I left him again.

Dr. Bradley soon came to me, and confessed he felt anxious. "It may be a
long and critical business," he said. "If he can maintain his strength
like this for several days, he may turn the corner--he is a difficult
patient. He is not afraid, but he is excitable, and is always asking for
relief and suggesting remedies." I said something about summoning the
others. "On no account," he said. "It would give him the one impression
we must try to avoid--much depends upon his own hopefulness."

I went back to my hotel, slumbered over a book, went in for a little to
the cathedral service, and came back about five o'clock. The nurse was
not in the room at the moment. Hugh said a few words to me, but had a
sudden attack of faintness. I gave him a little whisky at his own
request, the doctor was fetched, and there followed a very anxious hour,
while various remedies were tried, and eventually oxygen revived him. He
laid his head down on the pillow, smiled at me, and said, "Oh, what
bliss! I feel absolutely comfortable--it's wonderful."

The doctor beckoned me out, and told me that I had better move my things
across to the house and sleep there. "I don't like the look of things
at all," he said; "your place is certainly here." He added that we had
better wait until the morning before deciding whether the others should
be sent for. I moved my things in, and had supper with the priests, who
were very kind to me. They talked much about Hugh, of his gaiety and
humour; and I saw that he had given his best to these friends of his,
and lived with them in brotherly simplicity.

I did not then think he was going to die, and I certainly expected no
sudden change. I ought, no doubt, to have realised that the doctors had
done their best to prepare me for his death; but the mind has an
instinctive way of holding out the shield of hope against such fears.

I was told at this time that he was to be left quiet, so I merely
slipped in at ten o'clock. Hugh was drowsy and resting quietly; he just
gave me a nod and a smile.

The one thing which made me anxious, on thinking over our interv