said Dr. Hillhouse as the two physicians
rode away, "The case ought to have been seen last night. I noticed the
call when I came home from Mr. Birtwell's, but the storm was frightful,
and I did not feel like going out again. In fact, if the truth must be
told, I hardly gave the matter a thought. I saw the call, but its
importance did not occur to me. Late hours, suppers and wine do not
always leave the head as clear as it should be."

"I do not like the looks of things," returned Dr. Angier. "All the
symptoms are bad."

"Yes, very bad. I saw Mrs. Ridley yesterday morning, and found her
doing well. No sign of fever or any functional disturbance. She must
have had some shock or exposure to cold."

"Her husband was out all night. I learned that much from the nurse,"
replied Dr. Angier. "When the storm became violent, which was soon
after ten o'clock, she grew restless and disturbed, starting up and
listening as the snow dashed on the windowpanes and the wind roared
angrily. 'I could not keep her down,' said the nurse. 'She would spring
up in bed, throw off the clothes and sit listening, with a look of
anxiety and dread on her face. The wind came in through every chink and
crevice, chilling the room in spite of all I could do to keep it warm.
I soon saw, from the color that began coming into her face and from the
brightness in her eyes, that fever had set in. I was alarmed, and sent
for the doctor.'"

"And did this go on all night?" asked Dr. Hillhouse.

"Yes. She never closed her eyes except in intervals of feverish stupor,
from which she would start up and cry out for her husband, who was, she
imagined, in some dreadful peril."

"Bad! bad!" muttered Dr. Hillhouse. "There'll be a death, I fear, laid
at Mr. Birtwell's door."

"I don't understand you," said his companion, in a tone of surprise.

"Mr. Ridley, as I have been informed," returned Dr. Hillhouse, "has
been an intemperate man. After falling very low, he made an earnest
effort to reform, and so far got the mastery of his appetite as to hold
it in subjection. Such men are always in danger, as you and I very well
know. In nine cases out of ten--or, I might say, in ninety-nine cases
in a hundred--to taste again is to fall. It is like cutting the chain
that holds a wild beast. The bound but not dead appetite springs into
full vigor again, and surprised resolution is beaten down and
conquered. To invite such a man to, an entertainment where wines and
liquors ar