case."
These had now been placed in readiness for the approaching consultation
with "Glencore's doctor;" and Mr. Schoefer still glided noiselessly from
place to place, preparing for that event.

"I 'm not asleep, Fritz," said a weak, plaintive voice from the bed.
"Let me have my aconite,--eighteen drops; a full dose to-day, for this
journey has brought back the pains."

"Yes, Excellenz," said Fritz, in a voice of broken accentuation.

"I slept badly," continued his master, in the same complaining tone.
"The sea beat so heavily against the rocks, and the eternal plash,
plash, all night irritated and worried me. Are you giving me the right
tincture?"

"Yes, Excellenz," was the brief reply.

"You have seen the doctor,--what is he like, Fritz?"

A strange grimace and a shrug of the shoulders were Mr. Schoefer's only
answer.

"I thought as much," said Upton, with a heavy sigh. "They called him
the wild growth of the mountains last night, and I fancied what that was
like to prove. Is he young?"

A shake of the head implied not.

"Nor old?"

Another similar movement answered the question.

"Give me a comb, Fritz, and fetch the glass here." And now Sir Horace
arranged his silky hair more becomingly, and having exchanged one or
two smiles with his image in the mirror, lay back on the pillow, saying,
"Tell him I am ready to see him."

Mr. Schoefer proceeded to the door, and at once presented the obsequious
figure of Billy Traynor, who, having heard some details of the rank and
quality of his new patient, made his approaches with a most deferential
humility. It was true, Billy knew that my Lord Glencore's rank was above
that of Sir Horace, but to his eyes there was the far higher distinction
of a man of undoubted ability,--a great speaker, a great writer, a great
diplomatist; and Billy Traynor, for the first time in his life, found
himself in the presence of one whose claims to distinction stood upon
the lofty basis of personal superiority. Now, though bashful-ness was
not the chief characteristic of his nature, he really felt abashed and
timid as he drew near the bed, and shrank under the quick but searching
glance of the sick man's cold gray eyes.

"Place a chair, and leave us, Fritz," said Sir Horace; and then, turning
slowly round, smiled as he said, "I'm happy to make your acquaintance,
sir. My friend, Lord Glencore, has told me with what skill you treated
him, and I embrace the fortunate occasion to profit