"Now, then, boys; heave up, gently, that's it," and Cardo was carried out of the shop to the hospital in an adjoining street. Here, placed on a bed in one of the long wards, doctors and nurses were soon around him; but Cardo lay white and still and unconscious. One of the bearers had mentioned typhoid fever, and Dr. Belton looked grave and interested as he applied himself to the examination of the patient. "My brother has been here," said his assistant; "this man had just been in to his shop, and said he believed he was sickening for typhoid, and it wasn't ten minutes before he was picked up on the quay." "The heat of the sun, I expect, was too much for him under the circumstances," said Dr. Belton. "A plain case of sunstroke, I think." "This money was found in his pocket," said Simkins, handing over five sovereigns and fifteen shillings in silver; "this bunch of keys, too, and his watch; but no card or letter to show who he is." "Fine young fellow," said Dr. Belton; "splendid physique, but looks like a bad attack." Restoratives were tried, but with no effect; Cardo still lay like a dead man. "Very strange," said the doctor, when next day he found the patient in the same unconscious condition. "Few constitutions would be able to fight against two such serious diseases." "Sunstroke as well as typhoid?" said Mr. Simkins. "Yes, I have no doubt of it. Curious combination of evils." "Poor chap!" said Simkins, "no constitution could survive that." "Nothing is impossible," said the doctor, "very interesting case; keep up the strength, nurse." Everything was done that was possible for poor Cardo; the nurses were unremitting in their care and attention, but nothing roused him from his trance-like stupor. During the course of the day, the news of the finding of an unknown man on the quay reached the Wolfington Hotel, where the waiter, with another knowing wink and shake of the head, said, "On the razzle-dazzle again, I expect. Must be the same man." And he proceeded upstairs to examine the luggage, from which Cardo had removed the labels intending to redirect them to his uncles house. There was no letter or paper found to indicate the name of the owner, even the initials C. W. gave no clue. "What was the man's name?" said the waiter to Mr. Simkins, who happened to call the following morning. "Don't know. Charles Williams he is called at the hospital. There was no clue to his identity, but just the letters C. W. on his linen." "Then, no doubt, his luggage is here," said the waiter. "All his things are marked C. W., and, from your description, it must be the same man." "Well, my brother will speak to Dr. Belton about it, and he will arrange to have it taken care of; he already has his money and his watch." And so Cardo Wynne slipped out of his place in the outside world and was soon forgotten by all except those connected with the hospital.