r as was needful, but, like
gentlemen, no further. And Cosin understood it all better than the
others could.

Full directions were given by the doctor as to treatment, and his last
words were, "You must never leave him for a minute night nor day; and if
he wake--_if_ he wake--let nothing on any account excite him."

No doubt the doctor was right in theory, but medical directions are
sometimes more easy to give than to carry out.

The doctor then drove away with Major Kelly, having first ascertained
that Alice Cosin had sent for the best nurse in the village, who,
wonderful to say, was a very good one.

Soon after they had left, Villemet came hurrying to the house, having
obtained leave from the major. He seemed to have run all the way.

"You are the very man I want," said Cosin.

"Do let me see him," cried the other, all out of breath.

"You shall directly, only you must restrain your feelings, and on no
account disturb him. He is so ill, it would kill him outright if you
did."

And he told him why it was he was so glad he had come: because, if their
friend chanced to arouse, it would not excite him so much to see
Villemet, as it would to see any one else. "I only wish you could stop
all night," he added.

"So I can. The major said I might if you wanted me; but I did not like
to intrude myself upon you."

And they two kept watch all through the night, hearing the church-clock,
close by, strike every hour; Cosin keeping out of sight, and Villemet
sitting where the eyes of the patient might more easily see him, should
they ever open again.

The fever increased. Restlessness began. Then a murmur, very faint,
startled them; but it was nothing. Louder and articulate words came
next; and delirium set in, lasting many weary hours. He was in
France--always in France. He spoke of his mother; was talking to her:
called her by name. But he never once mentioned the name Elise.

A tear came into Villemet's eye when he heard his poor friend express his
joy at seeing his mother--he thought of his own--but he dashed it away.
Why be ashamed, strong man? It becomes the brave to weep sometimes. Only
noodles never do so. There must be brains to produce tears, and a heart
too: and noodles have neither.

This went on for many hours. They wanted Villemet to take some rest, but
he refused. He dosed in his chair, but the slightest sound awoke him: a
sentinel at the shrine of friendship. At length, on the third d