Well! I had
plenty of money just then, so with the help of that concierge we
found a decent lodging--they wasn't so partic'lar then about
infection or they didn't think typhoid infectious--I took him there
in an ambulance, engaged a nurse, and in a fortnight he was
recovering. He turned out to be a seminarist--I think they called
it--from Ireland who was going to be trained for the priesthood at
Louvain--lots of Irish used to come there in those days. And somehow
a fit of naughtiness had overcome him--he was only twenty--and he
thought he'd like to see a bit of the world. So he'd sloped from
his college and had a bit of a spree at Brussels and Ostende. Then
he was took with this fever--
"His name was Fergus O'Conor and he always said he was descended
from the real old Irish Kings, and he was some kind of a Fenian. I
mean he used to go on something terrible against the English, and
say he would never rest till they were drove out of Ireland. When he
got well again he was that handsome--well I've never seen any one
like him, unless it's you. I expect when you dress up as David
Williams you're the image of what he was when I fell in love with
him.
"And I did. And when me barrister friend--Mr. FitzSimmons--teased me
about it, and wanted me--he having finished his business--to return
with him to London I refused. Bein' a bit free with me speech in
those days I dessay I said 'Go to Hell.
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