On our arrival at this place, we were met, at the gates of the garrison, by the Governor's public Secretary, who conducted us to a house belonging to Mr. Matra, and afterwards accompanied me to the castle to visit my patient. On our way thither I requested the Secretary to give me his opinion concerning the present state of the Governor's health; I also asked how he had been accustomed to live, and how long he had been confined to his bed. "What do you mean," said he, "by asking such foolish questions? you are not a _tweeb_" (the name for a physician). I told him that I was. He continued: "That must be determined by your success or failure; if you succeed, you will for ever establish your fame in Barbary; you will be esteemed and respected by all the Moors; but, if you fail, and His Excellency should die under your hands, I would then advise you to make your escape as quickly and as privately as possible, and never to attempt to revisit this country." I confessed the weight of the encouragement and threats which he held out; and inquiring whether he meant to insinuate, that if the Governor died I should suffer death? and whether they always punished their tweebs thus when they dispatched any of their patients to the other world? he rejoined, "Not exactly; but consider, you are a Massarene, which makes a great difference." I then intimated that I would decline having any thing to do with his master, and would return to Gibraltar. "You do not think of such a thing!" he exclaimed; "it would be unworthy of your character and situation. But come; I will give you a few salutary hints, which may be of service to you; the rest you will discover at the bed-side, and on feeling the pulse of your patient, I wish you may succeed in recovering him; but I am afraid he is going, and that no tweeb on earth can save him." He then informed me that His Excellency had been attended, for some days past, by a celebrated tweeb, who stood high in the public estimation; that he had pronounced the Governor's disease incurable, and he had, bled him so copiously, and so repeatedly, that "I verily believe," added the Secretary, "he has not a single drop of blood left in his veins; I would therefore advise you to administer some good cordials, and also some nourishment, to restore his lost vigour." By this time we had reached the castle. I found the Governor in a situation truly deplorable. He had been bled, as the Secretary described, _ad deliquium_, and reduced so low, that it was with great difficulty I could hear what he was desirous of explaining to me.