"There it is now, my dear," said he, laying his hand upon my knee familiarly, "that's just the very thing they can't make out; Colles says, it's all the ceribellum, ye see, that's inflamed and combusted, and some of the others think it's the spine; and more, the muscles; but my real impression is, the devil a bit they know about it at all."
"And have they no name for the malady?" said I.
"Oh sure enough they have a name for it."
"And, may I ask—"
"Why, I think you'd better not, because ye see, maybe I might be throublesome to ye in the night, though I'll not, if I can help it; and it might be uncomfortable to you to be here if I was to get one of the fits."
"One of the fits! Why it's not possible, sir," said I, "you would travel in a public conveyance in the state you mention; your friends surely would not permit it?"
"Why, if they knew, perhaps," slily responded the interesting invalid, "if they knew they might not exactly like it, but ye see, I escaped only last night, and there'll be a fine hub-bub in the morning, when they find I'm off; though I'm thinking Rooney's barking away by this time."
"Rooney barking, why, what does that mean?"
"They always bark for a day or two after they're bit, if the infection comes first from the dog."
"You are surely not speaking of hydrophobia," said I, my hair actually bristling with horror and consternation.