ly well,
and who was more than an ordinary violinist. They immediately formed a
friendship, and daily sought each other's society. Fred became a great
favorite among the local talent, and many were the concerts they held in
the castle.

Surely, for prisoners in a foreign land, restrained from going about
their legitimate business, our friends were enjoying themselves
wonderfully. The Count and Feodora were never so happy as when doing
something calculated to enhance the comfort and pleasure of their
guests. The days flew so swiftly by that the time for their departure
was near at hand before they were aware of it. Feodora's recovery was
uninterrupted, and she had gained many pounds of flesh. All
apprehensions concerning her health had about disappeared. The Count
continued his medical studies and investigations with unabated zeal and
interest. The action of the infinitesimal dose was a knotty question. He
could not deny the fact that they exhibited marvelous power over
disease, but their immateriality staggered his faith at times, in spite
of all that he had seen and experienced. But there came a time when he
stepped over the line forever. He was "Born into the Kingdom," as the
Doctor expressed it.

There came a messenger at midnight one dark, stormy night, from a castle
several miles distant. A letter to the Count from a certain Russian
Prince, implored him to bring the American Doctor immediately to see his
wife. The Count awoke the Doctor and told him that he would accompany
him, if he would go; and he would esteem it a personal favor if he would
attend the call.

"Certainly, I will go," said Dr. Jones heartily, and he hastily prepared
himself for the journey.

The rain poured in torrents, and the heavy covered carriage in which
they rode lumbered uncomfortably over the rough country roads.

"You should introduce the horseless carriage into your country," said
the Doctor as he bounced about upon his seat. "You would then agitate
the subject of good roads."

At last they reached their destination, and were hurried to the bedside
of the suffering Princess. She was a woman of fifty-five, large and
fleshy, sitting bolt upright in the middle of the bed. Her distress was
terrible. The Doctor took the symptoms hurriedly as possible. They were:

Violent palpitation of the heart. The bed fairly shook with the action
of that organ.

Expectorating large quantities of frothy blood.

Breathing exceedingly labored; cou