CHAPTER THE EIGHTEENTH.

The tears poured forth again, after this appeal, and, shaken by deep

sobs, she buried her whole face and breast in my bed; and I, moved by

pity and by apprehension, begged her to be of good cheer and to make

herself perfectly easy as to both of those issues, for not only would we

not betray any secrets to the rabble, but we would also second divine

providence, at any peril to ourselves, if any god had indicated to her

any cure for her tertian ague. The woman cheered up at this promise, and

smothered me with kisses; from tears she passed to laughter, and fell to

running her fingers through the long hair that hung down about my ears.

"I will declare a truce with you," she said, "and withdraw my complaint.

But had you been unwilling to administer the medicine which I seek, I had

a troop in readiness for the morrow, which would have exacted

satisfaction for my injury and reparation for my dignity!

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