afternoon?"

I was punctual to my appointment. We drove together to the asylum.

There is no need for me to trouble you with a narrative of what I
saw--favored by Doctor Wybrow's introduction--at the French boy's
bedside. It was simply a repetition of what I had already heard. There
he lay, at the height of the fever, asking, in the intervals of relief,
intelligent questions relating to the medicines administered to him; and
perfectly understanding the answers. He was only irritable when we asked
him to take his memory back to the time before his illness; and then he
answered in French, "I haven't got a memory."

But I have something else to tell you, which is deserving of your
best attention. The envelope and its inclosures (addressed to "Bernard
Winterfield, Esqre.") are in my possession. The Christian name
sufficiently identifies the inscription with the Winterfield whom I
know.

The circumstances under which the discovery was made were related to me
by the proprietor of the asylum.

When the boy was brought to the house, two French ladies (his mother and
sister) accompanied him and mentioned what had been their own domestic
experience of the case. They described the wandering propensities which
took the lad away from home, and the odd concealment of his waistcoat,
on the last occasion when he had returned from one of his vagrant
outbreaks.

On his first night at the asylum, he became excited by finding himself
in a strange place. It was necessary to give him a composing draught. On
going to bed, he was purposely not prevented from hiding his waistcoat
under the pillow, as usual.

When the sedative had produced its effect, the attendant easily
possessed himself of the hidden garment. It was the plain duty of the
master of the house to make sure that nothing likely to be turned to
evil uses was concealed by a patient. The seal which had secured the
envelope was found, on examination, to have been broken.

"I would not have broken the seal myself," our host added. "But, as
things were, I thought it my duty to look at the inclosures. They refer
to private affairs of Mr. Winterfield, in which he is deeply interested,
and they ought to have been long since placed in his possession. I
need hardly say that I consider myself bound to preserve the strictest
silence as to what I have read. An envelope, containing some blank
sheets of paper, was put back in the boy's waistcoat, so that he might
feel it in its place un