lecture. We must go and see this poor fellow, Mr Walpole," added the
professor, addressing me. "Come, you shall give me your opinion of the
case."

And the lecture and the engravings were neglected, and we dashed through
the streets towards the Quartier St Jacques, with every chance of
breaking our own necks as well as that of the spirited animal that flew
before the whip of the excited practitioner.

"Well," said I to myself as we alighted, "it may be, Monsieur le Baron,
as you state it, '_the pain of the peasant is as acute as the smart of a
king_.' It is, however, very certain that you do not hold to the
converse of the proposition."

The water-carrier was in truth alarmingly ill, and he was not likely to
remain so much longer, if left to himself; for it was already the
eleventh hour with him. He was living in a filthy hole--lying on a bed
of straw, without the commonest necessaries of life. The man had become
diseased through want and confinement--that cause and origin of half the
complaints to which the human frame is subject; lack of wholesome food
and pure air. The baron perceived instantly that nothing could be done
for the unhappy fellow in his present abode, and he therefore insisted
upon his being removed at once to a _maison de sante_.

"I can't walk," said the man gruffly.

"No, but you can be carried in a coach, I suppose," replied the baron in
a similar tone, "if I wish it." "Let him be dressed," he continued,
turning to the wife. "I will send a coach for him in half an hour--and
take charge of him until he is better. That will buy you some bread for
the present," and he gave another crown and hastened away. In the
afternoon the baron attended the patient again at the _maison de sante_.
He ordered him a bath, and prescribed medicines. For a month he visited
him daily; and he did not quit him until he was convalescent. Nor
then--for upon the day of the poor fellow's discharge, he presented him
with a horse and water-cart, and a purse containing five louis-d'or.

"Take care of the money," said the charitable donor, "do not be
extravagant. If you are ill--come to me always."

The water-carrier--a bluff, sturdy fellow in his way--would have thanked
the baron could he have kept quiet; but he stood roaring like a child,
perfectly overcome with the kindness he had received. It was some months
afterwards that Francois announced two visitors. When they appeared, I
recognised my old acquaintance the water-ca