as the right solution of all marvels the construction put on my narrative
by Julius Faber.

Days passed; I saw and heard nothing of Margrave. I began half to hope
that, in the desultory and rapid changes of mood and mind which
characterized his restless nature, he had forgotten my existence.

One morning I went out early on my rounds, when I met Straban
unexpectedly.

"I was in search of you," he said, "for more than one person has told me
that you are looking ill and jaded. So you are! And the town now is hot
and unhealthy. You must come to Derval Court for a week or so. You can
ride into town every day to see your patients. Don't refuse. Margrave,
who is still with me, sends all kind messages, and bade me say that he
entreats you to come to the house at which he also is a guest!"

I started. What had the Scin-Laeca required of me, and obtained to that
condition my promise?" If you are asked to the house at which I also am a
guest, you will come; you will meet and converse with me as guest speaks
to guest in the house of a host!" Was this one of the coincidences which
my reason was bound to accept as coincidences, and nothing more? Tut,
tut! Was I returning again to my "hallucinations"? Granting that Faber
and common-sense were in the right, what was this Margrave? A man to
whose friendship, acuteness, and energy I was under the deepest
obligations,--to whom I was indebted for active services that had saved my
life from a serious danger, acquitted my honour of a horrible suspicion.
"I thank you," I said to Strahan, "I will come; not, indeed, for a week,
but, at all events, for a day or two."