atient. Come, up and dress, and while you are about it
I will empty this potion out of the window, we will then take a seat
behind the 'tinklers,' and before the night is over, I will put you
through a course of exercise which has won more practice among the
young than ever the wisest practitioner has been able to obtain for
his most skillfully concocted healing draughts."

"I can't, positively, Victor," said I. "It would cost me my life."

"Then I will lend you one of mine, without interest," said he. "Along
you must go, any how, so up at once. Think, my dear boy, of the beauty
gathering now in the old mansion at the foot of Lake St. Clair."

"Think," said I, "of my sore bones."

"And then," he continued, unmindful of my remark, "think of the dash
along the ice, the moon lighting your pathway, while a cluster of
star-bright eyes wait to welcome your coming."

"Oh, _nonsense_" said I, "and by that I mean _your_ romance. If
through my imprudence I should have the star of my existence quenched,
the lustre of those eyes would fail in any effort to light me up
again, and that is a matter worth consideration."

Even while I talked to him I felt my health rapidly improving.

"What would the doctor say, Victor," inquired I, "if he came here and
_found me out_? Nothing would convince him that it wasn't a hoax,
shamelessly played off upon his old age, and he would never forgive
me."

"Not so," says Victor, "you can take my prescription without his
knowing it, and it is as follows: First and foremost, toss his
medicine out of the window, visit uncle's with me and dance until
morning, get back by daylight, go to bed and take a nap before he
comes, and take my word for it he will pronounce your improved state
the effect of _his_ medicine."

"It would be madness, and I cannot think of it," replied I, half
disposed at the same time to yield.

"Then I pronounce you no true knight," said he, "I will report to
Estelle the challenge that passed between us, and be sure she will set
you down in her memory as a _timid gentleman_!"

"Oh, stop," said I, "and I will save you that sneer. I know that out
of pure dread of my power you wish to kill me off; but I will go,
nevertheless, if it is to death, in the performance of my duty."

"What _duty_ do you speak of," inquired he.

"Taking the conceit out of a coxcomb," said I.

"Bravo!" he shouted, "your blood is already in circulation, and there
are hopes of you. I will now look t