The Argosy — page 366: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

Verena Fontatne’s Rebellion. 347 morning. Who should come in after breakfast but the surgeon, Cole. ‘Talking of this and that, Sir Dace Fontaine’s name came up. “T am on my way now to Sir Dace; to the new place,” cried Cole. ‘‘ They went into it yesterday. Might have gone in a month ago, but Sir Dace made no move to do it. He seems to have no heart left to do anything ; neither heart nor energy.” ““T knew he was ill,” cried the Squire. ‘‘ No mistaking that. And now, Cole, what is it that’s the matter with him ?” ‘He shows symptoms of a very serious inward complaint,” gravely answered Cole. ‘‘ A complaint that, if it really does set in, must prove fatal. We have some hopes yet that we shall ward it off. Sir Dace does not think we shall, and is in a rare fright about himself.” Pewtentecis he! That's it, then.” ‘“‘ Never saw any man in such a fright before,” went on Cole. Says he’s going to die—and he doés not want to die.” “I said last night the man was like a walking shadow. And there’s a kind of scare in his face.” Cole nodded. ‘‘ Two or three weeks ago I got a note from him, asking me to call. I found him something like a shadow, as you observe, Squire. ‘The cold weather had kept him indoors, and I had not chanced to see him for some weeks. When Sir Dace told me his symptoms, I suppose I looked grave. Combined with his wasted appearance, they unpleasantly impressed me, and he took alarm. ‘The truth,’ he said, in his arbitrary way: ‘tell me the truth ; only that. Conceal nothing.’ Well, when a patient adjures me in a solemn manner to tell the truth, I deem it my duty to do so,” added Cole, looking up. ‘Go on, Cole,” cried the Squire, nodding approval. ‘“T told him the truth, softening it in a degree—that I did not altogether like some of the symptoms, but that I hoped, with skill and care, to get him round again. The same day he sent for Darbyshire of Timberdale, saying we must attend him conjointly, for two heads were better than one. Two days later he sent for somebody else—no other than Mr. Ben Rymer.” We all screamed out in surprise. ‘‘ Ben Rymer!” “Ay,” said Cole, “‘Ben Rymer. Ben has got through and isa surgeon now, like the rest of us. And, upon my word, I believe the fellow has his profession thoroughly in hand. He will make a name in the world, the chances for it being afforded him, unless I am mistaken.” Something like moisture stood in the Squire’s good old eyes. “If his father, poor Rymer, had but lived to see it!” he softly said. - “ Anxiety, touching Ben, killed him.” So we three doctors make a pilgrimage to Sir Dace regularly every day; sometimes together, sometimes apart,” added Cole. COMIC OOO SS (GO