the latter part of February, Archibald had a sort of fit, apparently of an
epileptic nature. On recovering from it, he called for a glass of milk,
and drank it with avidity; he then fell asleep, and did not awake again
for thirty-six hours.

By this time he was a personage of more importance at Malmaison than he had
ever yet been in his small life. The wise folk who stood around his crib
hazarded various predictions as to the issue of his unnatural slumber.
Some said he would lose what little wit he had; others, that he would
become an acknowledged wizard; others again, that he would never wake up
at all. In short, like other prophets, they foretold everything except
that which was actually to happen; and they would have foretold that too,
if they had thought of it in time.




II.


Archibald awoke at length, and sat up in bed. He opened his mouth,
apparently for the purpose of saying something, but his tongue refused to
articulate any recognizable words. An irregular, disjointed sound made
itself heard, like the vague outcry of an infant; and then, as if angry at
his own failure, he set up a loud and indignant wail, muffled from time to
time by the cramming of his fingers into his mouth.

Whatever else was the matter with the child, it was evident that he was
hungry--as, indeed, he well might be. Some bread and milk was brought to
him, that being his favorite food; but to the general astonishment and