yellow and
wasted, swearing furiously at any effort to get him back to bed. As the
days ran on he grew quiet and rejoiced to feel the cool breeze from the
river and had a smile for Rene and a brief word of cheer for Girard, who
came hither daily, heroically uncomplaining, spending his strength
lavishly and his money with less indifference. Schmidt, back again in
the world of human interests, listened to his talk with Rene, himself
for the most part silent.

Twice a day, when thus in a measure relieved, as the flood served, De
Courval rowed out on the river, and came back refreshed by his swim. He
sent comforting notes by Cicero to his mother and to Mrs. Swanwick, and
a message of remembrance to Margaret, and was careful to add that he had
"fumed" the letters with sulphur, that things were better with Schmidt,
and he himself was well. Cicero came back with glad replies and fruit
and milk and lettuce and fresh eggs and what not, while day after day
three women prayed at morning and night for those whom in their
different ways they loved.

One afternoon Dr. Rush came again and said it was amazing, but it would
have been still better if he had been let to bleed him, telling how he
had bled Dr. Mease six times in five days, and now he was safe. But here
he considered that he would be no further needed. Schmidt had listened
civilly to the doctor with the mild, tired, blue eyes and delicate
features; feeling, with the inflowing tide of vigor, a return of his
normal satisfaction in the study of man, he began, to De Courval's joy,
to amuse himself.

"Do you bleed the Quakers, too?" he asked.

"Why not?" said the doctor, puzzled.

"Have they as much blood as other people? You look to be worn out. Pray
do not go. Sit down. Cicero shall give you some chocolate."

The doctor liked few things better than a chance to talk. He sat down
again as desired, saying: "Yes, I am tired; but though I had only three
hours' sleep last night, I am still, through the divine Goodness, in
perfect health. Yesterday was a triumph for mercury, jalap, and
bleeding. They saved at least a hundred lives."

"Are the doctors all of your way of thinking?"

"No, sir. I have to combat prejudice and falsehood. Sir, they are
murderers."

"Sad, very sad!" remarked Schmidt.

"I have one satisfaction. I grieve for the blindness of men, but I
nourish a belief that my labor is acceptable to Heaven. Malice and
slander are my portion on earth; but my opponen