"But about that doctor, sir, and the entry," he continued, "it's here, sir; it's the house-surgeon, and I saw him make a memorandum here by my bedside: `Medicine and attendance: Mrs Hardon.' He put it down in his pocket-book, after sharpening his pencil upon a bright shining lancet; and he did not know that I was watching him. Take him by the throat, sir, as soon as you see him, and make him give it to you." "Try and compose yourself, Matt," said Septimus sadly, for he now felt that the whole history of the entry was but the offspring of a diseased mind. For a while he had suffered himself to hope that by some strange interposition of chance, with the old man for instrument, the whole matter was likely to be cleared up; but now the air-built castles were broken down--swept away by the sick man's incoherent speeches, and, after seeing him turn upon his side and close his eyes, the visitor rose to leave. But old Matt heard the movement of his chair, and unclosed his eyes directly. "You'll come again, sir, won't you?" he said, speaking quite calmly. "That always seems to make me clearer--shutting my eyes and having five minutes' doze. I'm weak, sir--very weak now; but I'm getting right, and I'll turn that over in my mind about the entry against you come again, when I can talk better, and try to set it right. But stop; let me see," he exclaimed,--"stop, I have it. I remember now, I did think all about it, and where it was I saw the entry; and for fear it should slip my mind again, I did as you told me, and as I always meant to do--put it down in my pocket-book under the pillow here;" and he drew forth the tattered memorandum-book, and held it out to his visitor. Septimus turned over the leaves with trembling hands, coming upon technical references to trade matters,--amounts in money of work done; calculations of quantity in pages of type. Then there were the baptismal and marriage entries they had made out, and beneath them some tremblingly--traced characters, evidently formed by the old man when in a reclining position; but, with the exception of the one word "Hardon," they were completely illegible. He then turned to the old man; but his eyes were closed, and he seemed sleeping; so he replaced book and pencil beneath the pillow, and then, passing between the beds of other sufferers, each intent upon his own misery, he came suddenly upon the smiling nurse, evidently waiting to see if there was a gratuity ready for her hand. It was hard work parting with that shilling; but Septimus felt it to be a duty to slip it into the Jezebel's hand, and to whisper a few beseeching words that she would be kind and attentive to the old man. "A quiet, patient old creature; you may rest quite happy about that, sir," said the nurse. "I'll treat him just as I would my own brother." "He will get better?" said Septimus interrogatively.