'I shall come to see you if you are not able to be here by nine
in the morning,' she said, and added the name of the hotel to
which he was to go.
At this establishment the doctor was well known. By midnight
Reardon lay in a comfortable room, a huge cataplasm fixed upon
him, and other needful arrangements made. A waiter had undertaken
to visit him at intervals through the night, and the man of
medicine promised to return as soon as possible after daybreak.
What sound was that, soft and continuous, remote, now clearer,
now confusedly murmuring? He must have slept, but now he lay in
sudden perfect consciousness, and that music fell upon his ears.
Ah! of course it was the rising tide; he was near the divine sea.
The night-light enabled him to discern the principal objects in
the room, and he let his eyes stray idly hither and thither. But
this moment of peacefulness was brought to an end by a fit of
coughing, and he became troubled, profoundly troubled, in mind.
Was his illness really dangerous? He tried to draw a deep breath,
but could not. He found that he could only lie on his right side
with any ease.
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