was fast approaching when he should have no feeling left but of despair. Seizing the bell, he shook it violently. Griso, who was on the watch, appeared immediately; stopping at a distance from the bed, he looked attentively at his master, and became certain of that which he had only conjectured the night before.
"Griso," said Don Roderick, with difficulty raising himself in his bed, "you have always been my favourite."
"Yes, my lord."
"I have always done well by you."
"The consequence of your goodness."
"I can trust you, I think. I am ill, Griso."
"I perceived that you were."
"If I am cured, I will do still more for you than I have ever yet done."
Griso made no answer, waiting to see to what this preamble would lead.
"I would not trust any one but you," resumed Don Roderick; "do me a favour."
"Command me."
"Do you know where the surgeon Chiodo lives?"
"I do."
"He is an honest man, who, if he be well paid, keeps secret the sick. Go to him; tell him I will give him four or six crowns a visit,—more, if he wishes it. Tell him to come here immediately; act with prudence; let no one get knowledge of it."
"Well thought of," said Griso; "I will return immediately."
"First, Griso, give me a little water; I burn with thirst."
"No, my lord, nothing without the advice of a physician. This is a rapid disease, and there is no time to lose. Be tranquil. In the twinkling of an eye, I will be here with the signor Chiodo." So saying, he left the room.
Don Roderick followed him in imagination to the house of Chiodo, counted his steps, measured the time. He often looked at his side, but, horror-struck, could only regard it a moment. Continuing to listen intently for the arrival of the surgeon, this effort of attention suspended
