“Yes, Charlemagne,--Melancthon had it, but lingered for years. It is the peculiar affection of great intellectual natures over-taxed and over-worked.” Whether there was that in the manner of the sick man that inspired hope, or something in the aspect of the doctor that suggested distrust, or a mixture of the two together, but certainly Neville rapidly rallied from the fears which had beset him on entering, and in a voice of a more cheery tone, said,-- “Come, come, Sir Horace, you 'll throw off this as you have done other such attacks. You have never been wanting either to your friends or yourself when the hour of emergency called. We are in a moment of such difficulty now, and you alone can rescue us.” “How cruel of the Duke to write me that!” sighed Upton, as he held up the piece of paper, from which the water had obliterated all trace of the words. “It was so inconsiderate,--eh, Neville?” “I'm not aware of the terms he employed,” said the other. This was the very admission that Upton sought to obtain, and in a far more cheery voice he said,-- “If I was capable of the effort,--if Doctor Geimirstad thought it safe for me to venture,--I could set all this to right. These people are all talking 'without book,' Neville,--the ever-recurring blunder of an Opposition when they address themselves to a foreign question: they go upon a newspaper paragraph, or the equally incorrect 'private communication from a friend.' Men in office alone can attain to truth--exact truth--about questions of foreign policy.” “The debate is taking a serious turn, however,” interposed Neville. “They reiterate very bold assertions, which none of our people are in a position to contradict. Their confidence is evidently increasing with the show of confusion in our ranks. Something must be done to meet them, and that quickly.” “Well, I suppose I must go,” sighed Upton; and as he held out his wrist to have his pulse felt, he addressed a few words to the doctor. “He calls it 'a life period,' Neville. He says that he won't answer for the consequences.” The doctor muttered on. “He adds that the trismus may be thus converted into 'Bi-trismus.' Just imagine Bi-trismus!” This was a stretch of fancy clear and away beyond Neville's apprehension, and he began to feel certain misgivings about pushing a request so full of danger; but from this he was in a measure relieved by the tone in which Upton now addressed his valet with directions as to the dress he intended to wear. “The loose pelisse, with the astrakhan, Giuseppe, and that vest of _cramoisie_ velvet; and if you will just glance at the newspaper, Neville, in the next room, I 'll come to you immediately.” The newspapers of the morning after this interview afford us the speediest mode of completing the incidents; and the concluding sentences of a leading article will be enough to place before our readers what ensued:--