Hodges' that I am ill, and you might also call at Mr. Wallace's and
leave the same message. Tell them, in both cases, that I have
everything that I want, and trust that I shall make a good recovery."
"Ay, ay, sir; I will be off as soon as I have brought you in your
broth, and will be back here in half an hour."
Cyril drank the broth, and then dozed again until John returned. When
he heard his step he called out to him to bring the hot iron, and he
filled the room with tobacco smoke before allowing him to enter.
"Now, John, the blankets are dry, and can be handled again, and I am
ready for another cooking."
Four times that day did Cyril undergo the sweating process. By the
evening he was as weak as a child, but his skin was soft and cool,
and he was free from all feeling of pain or uneasiness. Dr. Hodges
called half an hour after he had taken it for the last time, having
only received his message when he returned late from a terrible day's
work. Cyril had just turned in for the night.
"Well, lad, how are you feeling? I am so sorry that I did not get
your message before."
"I am feeling very well, doctor."
"Your hand is moist and cool," Dr. Hodges said in surprise. "You must
have been mistaken. I see no signs whatever of the Plague."
"There was no mistake, doctor; there were the black marks on my
thighs, but I think I have pretty well sweated it out of me."
He then described the process he had followed, and said that John
Wilkes had told him that it was practised in the Levant.
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