It is quite true that Mr. Fogo dropped asleep.  He slept, moreover, for a considerable time, and awoke to find Caleb seated beside the bed.

“Where is Tam—­Miss Dearlove?” he asked.

“There ain’t no Dearlove, as I knaws by, called Tammis.  The males was chris’n’d Peter an’ Paul, the female Thomasina:  an’ they’m gone.”

“Gone?”

“Gone, an’ left we like Hocken’s duck, wi’out mate or fellow.”

“How long?”

“Matter o’ five hour’.”

There was a long silence.

“Caleb!”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

“How long do you think it will be before I can get about—­be fit to go downstairs, I mean?”

“Well, sir, I reckon et depends on yoursel’.  Try, an’ ’twill come, as the Doctor said when Bill swallered ‘arf-a-crown an’ wanted to get et up agen by Lady-Day, rent bein’ doo.”

“Do you think a week would do it?”

“Better say a fortni’t, sir.”

“What day is it to-day?”

“Thursday.”

“Have I been ill for two days?”

“For a fortni’t an’ two days.”

“Bless my soul!”

“Amen, sir.”

“Caleb, would you mind writing a letter for me?”

Caleb had no objection; and the composition that followed may be given in full, for works of divided authorship have always possessed an interest of their own from the days of Homer, Homer and Homer downwards:—­

“Hond Twins,—­”

“Mr. Fogo’s complements to the pare of You not forgetting Miss Thomasina and shall be glad if you will all Dine with me at 7 p.m. in the evening precisely on This day (Wensdy) fortunite.  You will be glad to heer that I am recuvering fast thanks to your care and kindness which Is his own words and Gospel truth and so No more at present from yours to command”

“P.  Fogo, Esq.”

“per C. Trotter.”

“Knowing whats up with the kitchin range you wont look for much
of A dinner.”

The answer was brought up by Paul Dearlove early, next morning.  It ran:—­

“Respectd Sir,—­”

“This is thanking you for your kind and welcome letter just recd, and shall be proud to accept of the invitation in the spirit in which it is given you must not mind the kitchin range please as between them that knows all about it having difficulties at times with the beef tea which trusting you will overlook we remain”

“Your obedt servts”

(signed) “Peter Dearlove.”

“Paul Dearlove.”

“Thomasina has gone into Troy or would have signed too.”

To a certain extent this was satisfactory; and Mr. Fogo endeavoured to possess his soul in patience, and recover with all speed.  It was weary work at first, but as the sick man really began to mend he found much interest in discussing with Caleb the preparations for the feast.

“We must not be too ambitious, Caleb.  Let the fare be simple—­ ’Persicos odi, puer, apparatus’—­as long as it is well cooked and neatly served.”