I said nothing, but I looked in his face, with a look which asked him if he really believed what he said, or if he did not read a different story in my pale face and sunken cheek. He seemed to feel the appeal, and softening his countenance he passed on to another. We were then placed along with others, in the passage of a convent, which was converted into an hospital; here I lay that day on the floor, without mattress or covering. Night came, and a burning fever raged through my veins; I called for drink, but there was no one to give it me. In the course of the night I became delirious; the last thing I remember was strange fantastic shapes flitting around me, which now and then catched me up, and flew with me like lightning through every obstacle—then they would hold me over a precipice, and letting me fall, I would continue sinking, with a horrid consciousness of my situation, until my mind was lost in some wild vagary of a different nature. For some days I was unconscious of what was passing, and when I recovered my senses, I found myself in a small apartment with others who had bad fevers, but I was now provided with a mattress and bed-clothes. A poor fellow, a musician of the 43d regiment, was next berth to me, sitting up in his bed in a fit of delirium, addressing himself to some young females, whom he supposed to be spinning under the superintendence of an old woman, in a corner of the ceiling; he kept a constant conversation with his supposed neighbours, whom he seemed to think were much in awe of the old dame, and he frequently rose out of his bed to throw up his handkerchief as a signal. When he recovered, the impression was so strong, that he remembered every particular.