uinine in _dosi forti_, and he would look in again at night.

The second visit I but dimly recollect. There was a colloquy between
the Doctor and my hostess, and the word _cataplasma_ sounded
repeatedly; also I heard again "_dosi forti_." The night that followed
was perhaps the most horrible I ever passed. Crushed with a sense of
uttermost fatigue, I could get no rest. From time to time a sort of
doze crept upon me, and I said to myself, "Now I shall sleep"; but on
the very edge of slumber, at the moment when I was falling into
oblivion, a hand seemed to pluck me back into consciousness. In the
same instant there gleamed before my eyes a little circle of fire,
which blazed and expanded into immensity, until its many-coloured glare
beat upon my brain and thrilled me with torture. No sooner was the
intolerable light extinguished than I burst into a cold sweat; an icy
river poured about me; I shook, and my teeth chattered, and so for some
minutes I lay in anguish, until the heat of fever re-asserted itself,
and I began once more to toss and roll. A score of times was this
torment repeated. The sense of personal agency forbidding me to sleep
grew so strong that I waited in angry dread for that shock which
aroused me; I felt myself haunted by a malevolent power, and rebelled
against its cruelty.

Through the night no one visited me. At eight in the morning a knock
sounded at the door, and there entered the waiter, carrying a tray with
my ordinary breakfast. "The Signore is not well?" he remarked, standing
to gaze at me. I replied that I was not quite well; would he give me
the milk, and remove from my sight as quickly as possible all the other
things on the tray. A glimpse of butter in its cheese-rind had given me
an unpleasant sensation. The goat's milk I swallowed thankfully, and,
glad of the daylight, lay somewhat more at my ease awaiting Dr. Sculco.

He arrived about half-past nine, and was agreeably surprised to find me
no worse. But the way in which his directions had been carried out did
not altogether please him. He called the landlady, and soundly rated
her. This scene was interesting, it had a fine flavour of the Middle
Ages. The Doctor addressed mine hostess of the _Concordia_ as "thou,"
and with magnificent disdain refused to hear her excuses; she, the
stout, noisy woman, who ruled her own underlings with contemptuous
rigour, was all subservience before this social superior, and whined to
him for pardon. "What