“‘You well remember,’ added I, ‘how harshly you treated me at our last interview; when I was speaking to you of his illness, and proposing a way to save him from the threatened consequences of his complaint.  After I left you I went directly to his house, and he no sooner learnt from my countenance that I had brought no favourable answer than his distemper increased.  From that time, madam, he has been at the point of death; and I doubt whether your compassion would not now come too late to save his life.’  The fear of your death alarmed her, and I saw her face change colour. ‘Is your account true?’ she asked. ‘Has he actually no other disorder than what is occasioned by his love of me?’ ‘Ah, madam!’ I replied, ‘it is too true; would it were false!’ ‘Do you believe,’ said she, ‘that the hopes of seeing me would at all contribute to rescue him from his danger?’ I answered, ‘Perhaps it may, and if you will permit me, I will try the remedy.’? ‘Well,’ resumed she, sighing, ‘give him hopes of seeing me; but he must pretend to no other favours, unless he aspire to marry me, and obtains my father’s consent.’ ‘Madam,’ replied I. ‘your goodness overcomes me; I will instantly seek the young gentleman, and tell him he is to have the pleasure of an interview with you.’ ‘The best opportunity I can think of,’ said she, ‘for granting him that favour, will be next Friday at the hour of noon prayers.  Let him observe when my father goes out, and then, if his health permits him to be abroad, come and place himself opposite the house.  I shall then see him from my window, and will come down and open the door for him:  we will converse together during prayer-time; but he must depart before my father returns.’

“It is now Tuesday,” continued the old lady “you have the interval between this and Friday to recover your strength, and make the necessary dispositions for the interview.”  While the good old lady was speaking, I felt my illness decrease, or rather, by the time she had done, I found myself perfectly recovered.  “Here, take this,” said I, reaching out to her my purse, which was full, “it is to you alone that I owe my cure.  I reckon this money better employed than all that I gave the physicians, who have only tormented me during my illness.”

When the lady was gone, I found I had strength enough to get up:  and my relations finding me so well, complimented me on the occasion, and went home.

On Friday morning the old woman came, just as I was dressing, and choosing out the richest clothes in my wardrobe, said, “I do not ask you how you are, what you are about is intimation enough of your health; but will not you bathe before you go?” “That will take up too much time,” I replied; “I will content myself with sending for a barber, to shave my head.”  Immediately I ordered one of my slaves to call a barber that could do his business cleverly and expeditiously.