was a hospital to which he would, perhaps, consent to be carried, and
where he would be accommodated in the best manner the times would admit.

"Nay," said she, "talk not of hospitals. At least, let him have his
choice. I have no fear about me, for my part, in a case where the
injunctions of duty are so obvious. Let us take the poor, unfortunate
wretch into our protection and care, and leave the consequences to
Heaven."

I expected and was pleased with this proposal. I returned to the sick
man, and, on rousing him from his stupor, found him still in possession
of his reason. With a candle near, I had an opportunity of viewing him
more accurately.

His garb was plain, careless, and denoted rusticity. His aspect was
simple and ingenuous, and his decayed visage still retained traces of
uncommon but manlike beauty. He had all the appearances of mere youth,
unspoiled by luxury and uninured to misfortune. I scarcely ever beheld
an object which laid so powerful and sudden a claim to my affection and
succour.

"You are sick," said I, in as cheerful a tone as I could assume. "Cold
bricks and night-airs are comfortless attendants for one in your
condition. Rise, I pray you, and come into the house. We will try to
supply you with accommodations a little more suitable."

At this address he fixed his languid eyes upon me. "What would you
have?" said he. "I am very well as I am. While I breathe, which will not
be long, I shall breathe with more freedom here than elsewhere. Let me
alone--I am very well as I am."