eyes; I did so with great difficulty. I looked around and saw I was in a room the exact counterpart of the one I had occupied in the latter days of my first life. Who was that dark man standing at the foot of the bed looking so grave? I knew his face. Yes, yes, that is good, kind, doctor Brown, that I knew of old, the same face. I tried to speak, but could not; I tried to move, but could not stir, I felt quite faint. The doctor came up to the head of the bed, and laid his hand on my forehead, saying:
"Thank God, you are better, Folingsby; but you must be very prudent and do not speak on any account; you have had a terrible time of it. Take this.' He poured something down my throat from a drinking cup, and I again became unconscious.
"My next recollection of consciousness was a feeling of soreness and tiredness all over my body. My eyes were closed. I was trying to move myself, but I felt so worn-out, so tired, and so weak that I had not energy to do anything. My mouth was dry and hard; when I
