No one cares to read of sickness and pain (unless it may be those whose business it is to cure them), but I am in a manner compelled to say something of my wounds, else my story later on would be hardly understood. The cut in my wrist caused me much trouble by the third day, so much that I could scarcely forbear from ripping off the bandage. By-and-by the pain in my hand was almost intolerable. The hurts in my shoulder were painful too. The earlier wound broke out again, and the bite inflamed greatly, and a kind of fever came upon me, so that I grew light-headed at times, and hardly knew where I was, or what I said. When I was myself again, I fumed and chafed at my weak and helpless condition, and sometimes grew frightened lest the bite of the mad woman might communicate madness. I could not comprehend my own irritability and want of self-command. The servants enraged me by stealing in and out of my room so softly, and by speaking in sharp whispers which went to my brain like stiletto thrusts. Good Mr. Butharwick, who nursed me with nigh unsleeping care, nearly drove me crazy by bidding me not to think of subjects which disturbed me, and by talking of matters that in nowise concerned me. He had made some astounding discovery about the children of Israel, and how their destiny was written in the sky, as also were the future of the true Church and the doom of Antichrist. Everything could be made plain to one who read the Bible and knew astrology, and my good tutor appeared to think I might be soothed by hearing these mysteries expounded. I refrain from blasphemous language about the Holy Scriptures, but I said things about the stars and star-gazing which hurt Mr. Butharwick grievously. Dick Portington watched with me one night, and in my intervals of relief from pain, he told me how the commissioner had been carried away more dead than alive, but vowing vengeance on those who had caused his sufferings. Of fights between the Dutch and the Islonians he had much to tell; how the men of Haxey had driven off Vermuijden's men, thrown down their embankments, filled up the drains, burned carts and tools, and utterly destroyed their works in the south of the Isle; how an attack had been made on Sandtoft and repelled, some of the assailants falling into the hands of the Dutch, who had flogged them within an inch of their lives, and then turned them loose to shift as best they could, threatening worse punishment to the next batch of captives. This was done by order of the new commandant, Vliet, who was in high esteem with the Dutchmen on account of his boldness and cunning. Vermuijden had gone away to oversee another operation in Bedfordshire, leaving Vliet in full authority.