124

DEATH S DOINGS.

I ai lived from Italy. But/' continued he, holdinga handkerchief to his mouth, " this cursed, variableclimate will kill me. Indeed, my dear friend!you must excuse me from talking more at present:but come to me this evening. I have lodgings atthe bookseller's, in Holies Street:—went there tobe near my doctor:—good bye, Dick! don't fail tocome, good bye! adieu!" and drawing up the win-dow, he beckoned to the coachman to drive on.I had returned my friend's salutation with all thewarmth in my nature; but after the first " howd'ye"—could not wedge in a single sentence; andremained, as it were, rivetted to the spot, for a fewminutes after his carriage drove on, uncertain whe-ther the whole was not a delusion. " If it be notso," thought I, " the poor fellow must be either onthe verge of insanity, if not already insane : but Iwill determine the point this evening, by calling athis lodgings :" and, turning my horse, I rode hometo dinner, revolving in my mind the oddness of ourmeeting, after so long an absence.

It was nine o'clock in the evening, when I en-tered Tom's lodgings. He was seated before a