med terribly long. His weariness increased, and, in
addition, he began to feel feverish, and his skin itched and tingled as
if every now and then an exquisitely fine needle had punctured it.

The restlessness and irritation ceased not for a moment, and he realised
now that he must have caught same disease peculiar to the country. A
fever, of course, but he knew enough of the laws of such complaints,
from his long life of sickness, to feel that this was not a regular
fever, for he perspired too freely, and his head was cool.

He tossed from side to side, but there was no rest, and when at last the
window faded from his sight, and he became insensible to what was going
on around him, he was still conscious of that peculiar irritation, that
prickled and itched and stung and burned, till he dreamed that he was
travelling through a stinging-nettle wood that led up to a square
window, through which a fierce-looking Turk armed with pistols and
dagger crept to come and rob him.

It was all dreadfully real, and, in the midst of his fear and agony, he
could not help feeling that he was foolish to wish that the Guilford
Street police-sergeant, whom he had so often seen stop by one particular
lamp-post at the corner to speak to one of his men, would come now, for
he had a sensation that this must be quite out of his beat.

And all the time the fierce-looking Turk was coming nearer, and at last
seized him, and spoke in a low whisper.

He saw all this mentally, for his eyes were closed; but, as he opened
them and gazed upwards, a broad band of pale light came through the
square window, falling right on the stern face of the Turk as he bent
over him just as he had fancied in his sleep.

For the moment he was about to speak. Then he calmed down and uttered a
sigh as he realised the truth.

"Is that you, Yussuf?" he said.

"Yes," was the reply. "It is morning, and I thought you might like to
see the sun rise from the mountain here."

"Yes, I should," said Lawrence, uttering another sigh full of relief;
"but I am not well. I itch and burn--my neck, my face, my arms."

"Yes," said Yussuf sadly, as if speaking of a trouble that was
inevitable.

"Is it a fever coming on?"

"Fever?" said Yussuf smiling; "oh, no! the place swarms with nasty
little insects. These rugs are full."

"Ugh!" ejaculated Lawrence, jumping up and giving himself a rub and a
shake. "How horrid, to be sure!"

Yussuf would not let him go far from t