By Berwen Banks

"Better take him up to Simkins the chemist," said a broad-shouldered

sailor; and, procuring a stretcher, they carried their unconscious

burden to the chemist's shop.

"Why, let me see," said Mr. Simkins; "surely this is the gentleman who

called here a few minutes ago. I told him to go home, and he said he

would; but I noticed he turned down towards the quay; poor fellow, bad

case, I'm afraid. He said he thought he was sickening for typhoid

fever, and he's about right, I think."

"What shall we do with him?" said the sailor. "See if you can find a

card or letter in his pockets? Nothing," he added, as together they

searched Cardo's pockets, "not a card, nor a letter, nothing but this

bunch of keys, and some loose gold and silver."

There was no clue to the stranger's identity, except the marking on his

clothing.

"Here's C. W. on his handkerchief--Charles Williams, perhaps; well, he

ought to be attended to at once, if he ain't dead already," said

another.

"Yes, a good thing the hospital is so near," said the chemist. "You

had better leave his money here, and tell Dr. Belton that you have done

so. My brother is his assistant. I daresay we shall hear more about

him from him."

"Now, then, boys; heave up, gently, that's it," and Cardo was carried

out of the shop to the hospital in an adjoining street. Here, placed

on a bed in one of the long wards, doctors and nurses were soon around

him; but Cardo lay white and still and unconscious.

One of the bearers had mentioned typhoid fever, and Dr. Belton looked

grave and interested as he applied himself to the examination of the

patient.

"My brother has been here," said his assistant; "this man had just been

in to his shop, and said he believed he was sickening for typhoid, and

it wasn't ten minutes before he was picked up on the quay."

"The heat of the sun, I expect, was too much for him under the

circumstances," said Dr. Belton. "A plain case of sunstroke, I think."

"This money was found in his pocket," said Simkins, handing over five

sovereigns and fifteen shillings in silver; "this bunch of keys, too,

and his watch; but no card or letter to show who he is."

"Fine young fellow," said Dr. Belton; "splendid physique, but looks

like a bad attack."

Restoratives were tried, but with no effect; Cardo still lay like a

dead man.

"Very strange," said the doctor, when next day he found the patient in

the same unconscious condition. "Few constitutions would be able to

fight against two such serious diseases."

"Sunstroke as well as typhoid?" said Mr. Simkins.

"Yes, I have no doubt of it. Curious combination of evils."

"Poor chap!" said Simkins, "no constitution could survive that."