torture like a hunted animal wounded to the death. I left him and
walked on rapidly; reaching the harbor, where the heat was
sulphurous and intense, I found a few scared-looking men standing
aimlessly about, to whom I explained the boy's case, and appealed
for assistance. They all hung back--none of them would accompany me,
not even for the gold I offered. Cursing their cowardice, I hurried
on in search of a physician, and found one at last, a sallow
Frenchman, who listened with obvious reluctance to my account of the
condition in which I had left the little fruit-seller, and at the
end shook his head decisively, and refused to move.

"He is as good as dead," he observed, with cold brevity. "Better
call at the house of the Miserecordia; the brethren will fetch his
body."

"What!" I cried; "you will nor try if you can save him?"

The Frenchman bowed with satirical suavity.

"Monsieur must pardon me! My own health would be seriously
endangered by touching a cholera corpse. Allow me to wish monsieur
the good-day!"

And he disappeared, shutting his door in my face. I was thoroughly
exasperated, and though the heat and the fetid odor of the sun-baked
streets made me feel faint and sick, I forgot all danger for myself
as I stood in the plague-stricken city, wondering what I should do
next to obtain succor. A grave, kind voice saluted my ear.

"You seek aid, my son?"