"We must get you out of it," he continued, "the moment you feel fit to stir.

Shall we say to-morrow ?" "If you like," I said, advisedly; "and if I can get some sleep to-day." "Then to-morrow it is! You see I know it's the climate," he added, jumping from tone to tone; "it couldn't have been those two or three glasses of sound wine." "Shall I tell you what it is ?" I said, looking him full in the face, with eyes that I dare say were wild enough with fever and insomnia.
"It's the burning of the Lady Jermyn!" I cried.

"It's the faces and the shrieks of the women; it's the cursing and the fighting of the men; it's boat-loads struggling in an oily sea; it's husbands and wives jumping overboard together; it's men turned into devils, it's hell-fire afloat--" "Stop! stop!" he whispered, hoarse as a crow.

I was sitting up with my hot eyes upon him.

He was white as the quilt, and the bed shook with his trembling.