personal attendant, and, at the same time, snapping his long
finger-nails nervously, "be sure, above all, not to leave him alone, for
he is in danger of going raving mad at any moment, and I cannot say what
he may do if he is not looked after carefully. A man in his condition
has no more sense than a baby."

Now, although these words of the doctor's really made Mr. Li angry, he
was too ill to reply, for all this time his head had been growing hotter
and hotter, until at last a feverish sleep overtook him. No sooner had
he closed his eyes than his faithful servant, half-famished, rushed out
of the room to join his fellows at their mid-day meal.

Li awoke with a start. He had slept only ten minutes. "Water, water,"
he moaned, "bathe my head with cold water. I am half dead with pain!"
But there was no reply, for the attendant was dining happily with his
fellows.

"Air, air," groaned Mr. Li, tugging at the collar of his silk shirt.
"I'm dying for water. I'm starving for air. This blazing heat will kill
me. It is hotter than the Fire god himself ever dreamed of making it.
Wang, Wang!" clapping his hands feebly and calling to his servant,
"air and water, air and water!"

But still no Wang.

At last, with the strength that is said to come from despair, Mr. Li
arose from his couch and staggered toward the doorway. Out he went into
the paved courtyard, and then, after only a moment's hesitation, made
his way across it into a narrow passage that led into the lake garden.