In the morning, he was still under the operation of his apprehension, and was unable to take any breakfast. The ostler managed for him all the details of his business, and he departed in the same gloomy mood for Pettycur. Sauntering along at a slow pace, he met, half-way between the two towns, Duncan Paterson, a Dundee weaver, an old acquaintance, by whom he was hailed in the ordinary form of salutation. But he wished to proceed without standing to speak to his old friend; for he was so sorely depressed, and was so much afraid of another fearful announcement about his sickly appearance, that he could not bear an interview. This strange conduct seemed to rouse the curiosity of his friend, who, running up to him, held forth his hand, crying out-- "Ha! George, man!--this is no like you, to pass auld friends. What ails ye, man?" "I dinna feel altogether weel," answered the carrier in a mournful tone. "I saw that, man, lang before ye cam up," replied the other; "and it was just because ye were looking so grievously ill, that I was determined to speak to ye. When were ye seized?" "I was weel when I left the north, yesterday morning; but I hadna been lang on the road, when I began to gie tokens o' illness," replied the carrier mournfully, and with a drooping head. "If I had met you in that waefu' state," said the other, "with that death-like face and unnatural-like look, I wadna have allowed ye to proceed a mile farther; but now since ye're sae far on the road, it's just as weel that ye hurry on to Edinburgh, whaur ye'll get the best advice. What symptoms do ye feel?" "I'm heavy and dull," replied George; "my pulse rises and fa's, my heart throbs, and my legs hae been shakin' under me, as if I were palsied." "Ah, George, George! these are a' clear signs o' typhus, man," replied Paterson. "My mother died o't. I watched, wi' filial care and affection, a' her maist minute symptoms. They were just yours. I'm vexed for ye; but maybe the hand o' a skilfu' doctor may avert the usual fatal issue." "Was yer mither lang ill?" asked George in a low tone. "Nine days," answered Paterson. "By the seventh she was spotted like a leopard, on the eighth she went mad, and the ninth put an end to her sufferings." "Ay, ay," muttered George, with a deep sigh. "But the power o' medicine's great," rejoined Paterson. "Lose nae time, after ye arrive in Edinburgh, in applying to a doctor. Mind my words."