As the physician repeated these lines, a flash of intelligence seemed to revive in the invalid’s eye--sunk again--again struggled, and he spoke more intelligibly than before, and in the tone of one eager to say something which he felt would escape him unless said instantly. “A question of death-bed, a question of death-bed, doctor--a reduction EX CAPITE LECTI--Withering against Wilibus--about the MORBUS SONTICUS. I pleaded the cause for the pursuer--I, and--and--why, I shall forget my own name--I, and--he that was the wittiest and the best-humoured man living--” The description enabled the doctor to fill up the blank, and the patient joyfully repeated the name suggested. “Ay, ay,” he said, “just he--Harry--poor Harry--” The light in his eye died away, and he sunk back in his easy-chair. “You have now seen more of our poor friend, Mr. Croftangry,” said the physician, “than I dared venture to promise you; and now I must take my professional authority on me, and ask you to retire. Miss Sommerville will, I am sure, let you know if a moment should by any chance occur when her uncle can see you.” What could I do? I gave my card to the young lady, and taking my offering from my bosom--“if my poor friend,” I said, with accents as broken almost as his own, “should ask where this came from, name me, and say from the most obliged and most grateful man alive. Say, the gold of which it is composed was saved by grains at a time, and was hoarded with as much avarice as ever was a miser’s. To bring it here I have come a thousand miles; and now, alas, I find him thus!” I laid the box on the table, and was retiring with a lingering step. The eye of the invalid was caught by it, as that of a child by a glittering toy, and with infantine impatience he faltered out inquiries of his niece. With gentle mildness she repeated again and again who I was, and why I came, etc. I was about to turn, and hasten from a scene so painful, when the physician laid his hand on my sleeve. “Stop,” he said, “there is a change.” There was, indeed, and a marked one. A faint glow spread over his pallid features--they seemed to gain the look of intelligence which belongs to vitality--his eye once more kindled--his lip coloured--and drawing himself up out of the listless posture he had hitherto maintained, he rose without assistance. The doctor and the servant ran to give him their support. He waved them aside, and they were contented to place themselves in such a position behind as might ensure against accident, should his newly-acquired strength decay as suddenly as it had revived. “My dear Croftangry,” he said, in the tone of kindness of other days, “I am glad to see you returned. You find me but poorly; but my little niece here and Dr. -- are very kind. God bless you, my dear friend! We shall not meet again till we meet in a better world.”