I cleaned and put away the syringe, washed the tube, and then, returning to the bedside, endeavoured to rouse the patient from his profound lethargy.  But great care was necessary.  A little injudicious roughness of handling, and that thready, flickering pulse might stop for ever; and yet it was almost certain that if he were not speedily aroused, his stupor would gradually deepen until it shaded off imperceptibly into death.  I went to work very cautiously, moving his limbs about, flicking his face and chest with the corner of a wet towel, tickling the soles of his feet, and otherwise applying stimuli that were strong without being violent.

So occupied was I with my efforts to resuscitate my mysterious patient that I did not notice the opening of the door, and it was with something of a start that, happening to glance round, I perceived at the farther end of the room the shadowy figure of a man relieved by two spots of light reflected from his spectacles.  How long he had been watching me I cannot say, but, when he saw that I had observed him, he came forward—­though not very far—­and I saw that he was Mr. Weiss.

“I am afraid,” he said, “that you do not find my friend so well to-night?”

“So well!” I exclaimed.  “I don’t find him well at all.  I am exceedingly anxious about him.”

“You don’t—­er—­anticipate anything of a—­er—­anything serious, I hope?”

“There is no need to anticipate,” said I.  “It is already about as serious as it can be.  I think he might die at any moment.”

“Good God!” he gasped.  “You horrify me!”

He was not exaggerating.  In his agitation, he stepped forward into the lighter part of the room, and I could see that his face was pale to ghastliness—­except his nose and the adjacent red patches on his cheeks, which stood out in grotesquely hideous contrast.  Presently, however, he recovered a little and said: 

“I really think—­at least I hope—­that you take an unnecessarily serious view of his condition.  He has been like this before, you know.”

I felt pretty certain that he had not, but there was no use in discussing the question.  I therefore replied, as I continued my efforts to rouse the patient: 

“That may or may not be.  But in any case there comes a last time; and it may have come now.”

“I hope not,” he said; “although I understand that these cases always end fatally sooner or later.”

“What cases?” I asked.

“I was referring to sleeping sickness; but perhaps you have formed some other opinion as to the nature of this dreadful complaint.”

I hesitated for a moment, and he continued:  “As to your suggestion that his symptoms might be due to drugs, I think we may consider that as disposed of.  He has been watched, practically without cessation since you came last, and, moreover, I have myself turned out the room and examined the bed and have not found a trace of any drug.  Have you gone into the question of sleeping sickness?”