d pecked for the third time at a window that was never opened, and Sir
Richard remarked "This is a sign of death."

The day was fine, and after breakfast Burton took his usual two hours'
walk with Dr. Baker. On the way out through the garden he noticed a
robin drowning in the basin of a fountain. [631] At his request Dr.
Baker rescued it, and Burton, opening his coat and vest--for he never
wore a waistcoat--warmed the bird at his breast, and then carried it to
the house to be cared for by the porter. The incident carries us back
to those old days at Tours, when, as a boy, he often laid himself out
to revive unfortunate birds and small beasts. In the afternoon he wrote
some letters and discussed gaily the proposed visit to Greece. They
dined at half-past seven, and talked and laughed as usual, though
Burton seemed tired. As usual, too, he shocked his wife by jesting about
scapularies and other sacred things, but the conversation ran chiefly
on General Booth's scheme for relieving the Submerged Tenth; and Burton,
who entered into the subject with zest, observed: "When you and I get to
England and are quite free we will give our spare time to that." [632]

In the course of the day Mrs. Victoria Maylor came in with the
manuscript of The Scented Garden and the copy of it which she had made
for the printers, [633] and from this we may deduce that Sir Richard
intended to go to press at once with the first twenty chapters of the
work. He may have intended to publish the twenty-first chapter later
as a second volume. At half-past nine he retired to his bedroom. Lady
Burton then repeated "the night prayers to him," and while she was
speaking "a dog," to use her own words, "began that dreadful howl which
the superstitious regard as the harbinger of death."

After prayers, Burton asked for "chou-chou;" she game him a
paper-covered copy in two volumes of the Martyrdom of Madeline [634] by
Robert Buchanan, and he lay in bed reading it. At midnight he complained
of pain in his foot, but said he believed it was only a return of the
gout--the "healthy gout," which troubled him about every three months.

"Let me call Dr. Baker," said Lady Burton.

"No," replied Sir Richard, "don't disturb him poor fellow, he has been
in frightful pain with his head; and has at last got a little sleep."

At four, however, Lady Burton paid no heed to her husband's
remonstrances, but called up Dr. Baker, who, however, saw no cause for
alarm, and after