"Alas! the besetting sin of the age, sir; cupidity. He has become deeply imbued with the spirit of our times. After working hard from childhood, he finds himself still comparatively poor, while my father, who began life under like circumstances, was able to leave me a snug little fortune. My uncle began by being envious of me; then the thought occurred to him that, being my only relative, he would become my heir in case of my death, and my guardian in case I became insane; and as it is very easy for a weak-minded person to believe whatever he desires to believe, the unfortunate man soon persuaded himself that I had lost my reason. He has told everybody that this is the case; and he will soon tell you so. In the carriage, though his hands were tied, he really believed that it was he who was bringing me here." "When did this malady first show itself?" "About three months ago. He came to my concierge and said to him, in the wildest manner: 'Monsieur Emmanuel, you have a daughter. Let me in, and then come and assist me in binding my nephew.'" "Is he aware of his condition? Does he know that his mind is affected?" "No, sir, and I think that is a favorable sign. I should add, however, that his physical health is somewhat impaired, and he is much troubled with indigestion and insomnia." "So much the better; an insane person who sleeps and eats regularly is generally incurable. Suppose you allow me to wake him." Dr. Auvray placed his hand gently on the shoulder of the sleeper, who instantly sprang to his feet. The first movement he made was to rub his eyes. When he discovered that his hands were tied, he instantly suspected what had taken place while he was asleep, and burst into a hearty laugh. "A good joke, a very good joke!" he exclaimed. Francis drew the doctor a little aside. "Sir, in five minutes he will be in a towering rage," he whispered. "Let me manage him. I know how to take him." The good doctor smiled on the supposed patient as one smiles on a child one wishes to amuse. "Well, you wake in very good spirits, my friend; did you have a pleasant dream?" he asked affably. "No, I had no dream at all; I'm merely laughing to find myself tied up like a bundle of fagots. One would suppose that I was the madman, instead of my nephew." "There, I told you so," whispered Francis. "Have the goodness to untie my hands, doctor. I can explain better when I am free." "I will unbind you, my friend, but you must promise to give no trouble." "Can it be, doctor, that you really take me for an insane person?" "No, my friend, but you are ill, and we will take care of you, and, I hope, cure you. See, your hands are free; don't abuse your liberty." "What the devil do you imagine I'll do? I came here merely to bring my nephew." "Very well, we will talk about that matter by and by. I found you sound asleep. Do you often fall asleep in the daytime?" "Never! It was that stupid book that--"