"Ruff Hospital, New York!" ejaculated I, in astonishment. "How the deuce did I get away over here? Oh, I understand; I fell among the rocks and was hurt; then the sailors came and rescued me, and I was brought here. That seems like a few moments ago, but I presume at least a month must have elapsed since or the ship could not have reached this port. What month is this, January?"
"No, this is the month of March," replied she.
"March!" exclaimed I. "Great heavens, how the time has flown! Why, that is about three months that I have known absolutely nothing. Let's see, it was December 5th that I was thrown overboard, and it must have been December 7th that Arletta died. That's right, December 7, 1881-I shall always remember that date and keep it holy. It must be now March, 1882."
"Why, Mr. Convert, you are certainly dreaming," responded she, "this the year 1903, not 1882. But how strange that you should get so mixed in the dates-December 7, 1881, was the day I was born. That was over twenty-one years ago, instead of three months, as you fancy."
At this juncture the red-whiskered individual came forward and said: "It seems to be a hopeless case, Miss. He has talked in that same strain ever since he came here. Perhaps after his fever abates somewhat he may regain his equanimity, but to me it looks as if his mind will always be unbalanced. He has a nasty scar right over the temporal region, which portends ill for his future reason. Perhaps it would be better not to talk to him any further at present. He is awfully weak, and appears more excited than usual. You have evidently made some impression upon him, however, and if you would visit him every few days he might eventually be able to recognize you, which would have a strong tendency to set him mentally straight again."
"Very well," said she, hesitatingly, as if not anxious to go. "May I call and see him tomorrow, Doctor?"
"There are only three visiting days here each week, Miss; Sundays, Wednesdays and Fridays, between the hours of three and four P. M. But any time you call, if you will ask at the office for Doctor Savage, that is my name, I shall consider it a pleasant duty to render you any service within my power," replied he, looking at her with unsuppressed admiration, of which she apparently took no notice. Then continuing, he said, "Would you kindly give me your card that I may know your full name in case you call at other times than the regular visiting hours?"
She opened her pocket book as if to take out a card, stopped and reflected a moment, and then said, "Well, never mind my last name; just remember me as Arletta," and before I could collect my wits sufficiently to voice my agitated thoughts they passed from the room together.
As I lay musing over the strange occurrences recorded in the previous chapter, and wondering whether my entire life was a reality or merely a peculiar dream, one of the white-capped nurses strode up to the side of my bed and without the slightest warning roughly pushed a little glass tube in my mouth. Not knowing whether she wanted me to swallow it or was merely trying to puncture a hole in my tongue, I put it out again and asked what she intended doing.