Grand Rapids Herald-Review Newspaper, December 5, 1896, Page 2

Re ¥ CHAPTER I. Zana, Why Ernest Norton, civil engineer, ‘who had landed at Southampton from the P. N. O. steamship Peshawur ut 11 a.m. should have proceeded to take up his quarters at the George hotel in- stead of at once going on to London fhe scarcely knew himself. In point of fact, he had somehow been taken pos- session of by one of those irrepressible individuals commonly known as “hotel touts,” and had found himself and fis belongings duly deposited at the George before he had rightly known whither his captor was leading him. Moreover, he was in no special hurry to reach London; next day, or next week, for the matter of that, would suit him equally well. And this being so he had decided to accept his destiny and to spend his first day in England in Southampton. The point upon which he had found it less easy to make up his mind was whether he should write to his old friend, Richard Somerville, or whether be should take him wholly by surprise. They had not met for more than five and Somerville was not even of his departure from India. Whe surprise visit idea finally prevailed “Zana!” He Exclaimed in Amazement and Ernest Norton laughed to himself in anticipation of his former chum’s ama ment when he should suddenly march in upon him at Twickenham. This being settled, he turned his at- tention to lunch, and had just con- eluded that repast when he heard a timid knock at the door of his sitting room. In obedience to his permission to enter ,the door was _hesitatingly epened, and a dark, singularly beauti- ful young girl, neatly dressed in a well-fitting blue serge costume, stood before him. “Zana!” he exclaimed, starting to his feet in utter amazement. “You here! in England!” “Yes, Ernest, I am here, as you see,” was the reply, uttered in a low, sweet i “and they tell me this is Eng- Norton advanced to greet his visitor politely enough, but the girl’s quick eyes detected an expression that was mot wholly one of approval upon his face. “How ever did you come?’ he asked. “By the Peshawur? I did not see you on. board.” “Because I traveled in the setond- lass,” answered Zana, “and was care- ful to avoid appearing on deck during the daytime. I was afraid you would be angry with me for following you and would perhaps send me back by some other ship.” Norton laughed an laugh. “I have no power to do that, Zana,” he said, “even had I known you were on board. But come, sit down and tell me all about it. In the first place, does the rajah know of your departure?” “No,” she replied, fixing her dark, Zustrous eyes upon hi: f{ course he does not. Why do you ask? Now, this was not an easy question to answer. Asa matter of fact, it was sidiculous for him to inquire whether her father, the rajah of Korandah, knew that she had followed him, a young English engineer, to Southamp- ton. But, then, he scarcely knew what tosay. He had seen a good deal of her at her father’s house, because the rajah was very European in his ideas, and had allowed her a measure of per- sonal freedom undeard of in the East; and there was no blinking the fact ‘that he had made love to her. Zana’s mother had been an English- woman, whom the rajah had dazzled ®y his splendor and married in Bom- ay; and the girl herself was as lovely -as any houri ,with her lustrous black hair and eyes, her graceful, willowy figure and her rich complexion of the delicate olive tint, rarely seen out of Northern Spain. But although Norton had been greatly struck by her beauty, and had flirted with her desperately, ft had never occurred to him that she would take his attentions seriously; and he had bidden her farewell—with great reluctance, certainly, but with- @ut any serious after thought. Now she had followed him; and it appeared to him that he was in a somewhat tight corner as*Zana looked at him, awaiting his reply. “Well, you see,” he explained a little famely, “your undertaking this voyage without your father’s permission may ‘lead to unpleasantness. He must nat- curally think that I have stolen you waway from him.” ‘ “You stole my heart,” rejoined the Bastern maiden, quietly, “and where uneasy little my heart is there my body has come: also. Are you. sorry that I am here?” This was another leading question, .and again Norton hesitated, scarcely to confess even to himself how steadfast gaze of those glorious caused his heart to beat. He had himself -having dene the per thing in ig from his pretty r y' I BY MAURICE H. HERVEY enchantress; but now, in her presence, all his prudential arguments seemed to melt away. “Personally, I am more pleased than I can tell you to see you again, Zana,” he said gravely. “I can assure you that your image has haunted me day and night throughout the voyage. But, for your own sake, Iam sorry. You have no idea how censorous people are and how they talk.” “Ernest,” said the young lady, plac- ing one hand wpon his shoulder, as they sat side. by side on a sofa, “you told me many times that you loved me. Was that true or false?” “True, Zana, so help me heaven!” exclaimed Norton promptly. “How could I see you almost aaily and live near you and bask in your beauty, without learning to love you? But I saw that our intercourse might end by being fatal to your peace of mind as well as to my own, and, therefore, I hastened my departure from India.” “But, why,” urged Zana, “since you loved me and had taught me to love you, need there have been any danger to your peace of mind or to mine? Was it that you deemed me too far be- neath you to make me your wife?” “Beneath me?’ repeated the young engineer. “No, certainly not beneath me. But you know the prejudices thar exist, both on the side of your people and of mine, to such inter-marriages. I felt so sure your father would never consent to our union—” “Was that your only reason?’ inter- rupted Zana. “Are you sure that your English prejudices counted for noth- ing? I have read the books you used to bring me, and, as you know, my mother was English. Is it not true that many Englishmen would say she lost caste by marrying my father, de- spite his native rank? Is it not also true that they would say you would lose caste by marrying me? And yet, Ernest, my father’s ancesters were rajahs two thousand years ago! What were yours then? What were those of your great queen-empress even, then? .... You loved m Yes, you loved me, just as the Cl ian knight, Gil- bert a Becket, in the story, loved the Saracen maiden, whom he abandoned at Acre and who followed him to Eng- land, with the one cry of ‘Gilbert! Gil- bert! wpon her lips! Yes, you loved me as he loved het .... But-I love you as she loved him!” The girl had risen to her feet as she spoke and now stood before her fugi- tive lover, her dark eyes flashing, her shapely bosom heaving, her delicate nostrils quivering—as passionate a pic- tly slighted love as artist ture of unjus What wonder if, be- need wish to see. fore this tempestuous outburst, the smouldering fires of passion in Ernest Norton’s heart was fanned into an all- conquering flame? “Zana!” he cried. - “My peerless love! My queen! Forgive me! The scales have fallen from my eyes and I see now that, in obeying what I deemed the dictates of prudence, I acted wrongly, unworthily. Let the world say what it may, my darling. Its cal- lous verdict shall part us no more!” The flashing eyes. grew wondrous soft; the ripe, red lips parted in a sweet smile of heavenly content; the haughty, supple figure trembled ,then swayed, and fell into the repentant lover’s outstretched arms. For better or for worse, the hearts of these twain at length beat in unison. Love making, especially under such unforseen circumstances, is apt to ren- der the love makers oblivious of their surroundings; but it presently dawned upon Ernest Norton that the situation was a somewhat compromising one for Zana. Of course, marriage—and that, too, at the earliest possible moment— was an imperative necessity; but, until the ceremony should have taken place, what was he to do with her? Most cer- tainly she could not much longer pro- long her visit to a bachelor staying at the George hotel, without setting Mrs. Grundy’s tongue wagging at an alarm- ing rate. “Zana,” he said, with a little, per- You Must not Remind me of That. plexed laugh, “what am I to do with you?” “Do with me?” repeated Zana won- deringly. “I mean,” he explained, “where are you to stay until I can arrange about our marriage?” “I ghall stay with you,” she replied promptly. “Where else should I stay?” “But, my darling, you can’t.” pro- tested her lover. “According to Eng- lish custom we must get married first.” “Very well,” rejoined Zana. “Let us go and get married.” - Norton laughed outright at this sum- mary settlement of the difficulty. “That is not such an easy matter as you suppose,” he explained. “To get married in the ordinary way, either by publication of banns or before a regis- trar. would necessitate a delay of three weeks, and would involve something very like perjury as regards your age.” “Banns? Perpury?’ echoed Zana, opening her eyes very wide. “I don’t understand.” “Of course not, dearest,” assented Norton, “how should you? Nor do I see any reason for troubling your con- science .by entering into details. You aust just take my word for it that in the ordinary course we should have to wait three weeks and to affirm that you are twenty-one years of age.” “Why, I am barely seventeen!” cried Zana. “Hush!” exclaimed Norton, laugh- ingly placing his hands over his ears. “You must not remind me of that little fact, or my conscience may betray me at the critical moment. Now, the only way whereby we can be married with- out delay is by obtaining a special li- cense from the archbishop of Canter- bury. Such license (by the exercise of a little diplomacy) I believe I can se- cure within forty-eight hours if I reach London to-night.” “Then let us go to London at once,” said Zana innocently. “They have given me a room here, but none of my trunks are unpacked.” Norton shook his head. “No, Zana,” he answered, “your unprotected posi- tion makes it incumbent upon me to be rigidly careful of your reputation. In your innocencé and ignorance of the world and its verdicts ,you see no harm in living for a few days under the protection of your betrothed hus- I Have Sent for You for to Beg a Favor at Your Hands, band. Neither do I, in reality, know- ing my own heart. But the canons of a wicked world must be obeyed. I must go to London alone.” “And leave me here, alone, behind?” queried Zana mournfully. “Yes, darling,” assented her lover, “for a couple of days. I shall have a talk with the landlady of this hotel— she struck me as a motherly, ‘kind sort of woman—and, if she comes up to my expectations, I shall leave you under her wing until I return with the li- cense. difficulty in finding you safe quarters elsewhere in the town.” “Must it be as you say, Ernest?’ asked Zana, toying nervously with a bracelet. “Must you leave me.... again?” There was that in the way the words | were spoken which caused Norton to flush hotly. Could it be that he was suspected of meditating a second de- sertion of his love? “Zana,” he aimed, half angrily. “Such a question displays a lamenta- ble want either of tact or of confidence on your part. I repeat that I must go to London for this license, and that I must go alone—for your own sake.” “Very well,” said Zana, stifling a lit- tle sob. “It is your part to command, mine to obey.” “Come. come, my little queen,’ re- joined Norton, kissing her. ‘Don’t Failing her, I shall have no | look so downeast over such a trifle. I) shall be back again within forty-eight hours or so. And now let us see what manner of person the landlady is. The landlady, Martha Baxter by name, was duly summoned and she promptly made her appearance. AS Norton had said, she w: pntially a motherly-looking woman; frank-eyed, open-faced and plump, as a well pre- served matron of forty-five ought to be. Yet, as she entered, her good- m tured face wore a half-vexed, half-su picious look, which Norton did not fail to notice. “Mrs. Baxter,” he said, proceeding straight to the point, “I have sent for you to beg a favor at your hands with respect to this young lady.” “Indeed, sir!” replied Mrs. Baxter, with a doubtful glance at Zana. “Pray be seated,” continued No ton, politely indicating an arm-cha of a fix. Without entering into details, which are purely personal, I find it | or, ut the latest, on Friday .. . ‘necessary to proceed at once to Lon- don to complete certain formalities in connection with our forthcoming mar- ‘iage.” *“Oh!’ ejaculated the portly dame, with a long-drawn and very unmis-| her finger and threw it througa the takable sigh of relief. “Then the young lady and you are about to be mar- ried?” “Certainly,” assented Norton, “as I have just stated. I shall be absent two or, at the utmost, three days in London, and, upon my return, the cer- | emony will take place.” “Which means, sir,” suggested Mrs. Faxter, with a knowing smile, “that you are going to. procure a special li- cense, seeing you have only just ar- | | rived from foreign parts.” i “You have guessed the situation ex- actly,” said Norton. “Such is precisely the object of my mission. I cannot (for reasons which you will at once see) take her with me. May I leave her in your charge until I come back?” Mrs. Baxter gazed steadily into the young engineer’s handsome face and read therein naught save truth and candor. Then her eyes turned toward the beautiful, graceful girl, standing half-shyly by his side, and her heart went out to them in a flood of woman- ly sympathy. “Leave her in my charge?” she re- peated, with a cheerful laugh. “Why, of course you may, sir, and right glad- ly will 1 do my best to make her com- fortable whilst you are away. So you may both make your minds easy on that score. And now I come to think of it, the young lady cannot do better than have these rooms.” “An excellent idea,” assented Norton, “especially as I shall take but one small portmanteau with me. Zana, | t | notes completed the collection. ! events. Of course I shall lodge the dearest, you can havo your luggage added to mine, and commence your fuepre duties by taking care of the lot.’ “Quite right, sir,” cried Mrs. Baxter, greatly pleased at this conclusive evi- dence of the young man’s bona-fides. “A pride can’t begin too soon to look after her husband’s interests.” “Very well, Lrnest,” said Zana, with far more of cheerfulness than she had hitherto displayed. “That is settled, then,” concluded Norton. “And now, dear, if you will go and put on a jacket, whilst I pack up a few necessaries, you shall accom- pany me to the railway station and see me off.” And so Zana, accompanied by Mrs. Baxter, wert to make the suggested addition to her attire. When she re- turned she brought with her a good- sized morocco bag, which she handed to Ernest, together with the key. “What have we here?’ he asked playfully. “The spoils of Ormus and of Ind’?” “Some money,” answered Zana, sim- ply, “and my mother’s jewels, which my father gave me a year ago. Should they not be placed somewhere for safety?” Norton opened the bag and exam- ined the contents, which caused him to indulge in a low whistle of surprise. Rivieres, necklets, rings, bracelets and other ornaments lay in confusion just as they had been thrown in in the hurry of departure; and from the size and quality of the stones—especially the diamonds and rubies—he knew them at once to be of very great value. A thick roll of £50 Bank of England “Have you any idea of the value of these stones?” he asked presently. “No,” replied Zana; “I do not under- stand much about values. I had some of them sold in the bazaars at Bombay and they realized nearly £3,000, which you will find in the bag. The others must be worth a great deal more.” “Yes,” assented Norton, “they are. I am something of a judge, and I esti- mate them at from £25,000 to £30,000. It is sheer folly to keep such valuables by you, dearest, especially in a hotel. They should be lodged in a bank.” “Then you had better take this bag with you, just as it is,” said Zana quietly, “and lodge it with your Lon- don bankers.” Norton reflected gravely over this suggestion for some moments.- “I think it will be the wisest course,” he rejoined, “for the present at all jewels in your name, and open a credit account for you with the notes.” “No,” protested Zana. “Put every- thing in your own name. I am sorry my dowry is no larger, but I have brought you everything I could fairly call my own, and I dared not ask my r for more.” onsense, child,” retorted her lover. “I am already quite rich enough to keep us both in comfort ,and shail in- sist wpon your property being settled on yourself. It shall néver be said that Ernest Norton eloped with his host's daughter for the sake of her wealth. Come, I shall carry this precious bag myself, and we'll make a move toward the station..... Waiter, put that portmanteau in a cab.” Zana bore up bravely enough until Norton had secured his seat in the Lon- don express; but, as the moment of separation drew nigh, she fairly broke down. “I don’t like your going alone, Ern- est,” she almost wailed. “See, the ruby in-this ring I wear looks pale! It is a charm-stone and bodes misfortune when it changes color .... I have a presentiment of evil! .... Let me go with you!” “Impossible, Zana,” replied Norton, firmly. ‘What should I do with you in a r. | Why not Give up These Researches. | “Well. the fact is, I am in a little bit} London? Come, be braye, dearest. I shall be back the day after to-morrow, . Now, good-bye, darling!” “Good-bye!” echoed Zana, tearfully, as the engine whistled and the train moved. Then, obeying some sudden impulse, she tore the ruby ring from window into the carriage. Norton | picked it up and slipped it upon his lit- tle finger as he leaned out to get a last look at his sweetheart. } “Poor child,” he muttered, settling down into a corner seat when a bend in the line hid her from his view. | “Phere is nothing half-hearted in her | love. I. pray heaven I may prove worthy of it.” CHAPTER It. A Disastrous Experiment. Tpon the evening of the same day, Dr. Richard Somerville ‘sat in his study, moodily staring at thefire; for, although the month was May, the weather was chilly. In appearance, be was a distinctly striking-looking man, about thirty-two years of age. His pale, thoughtful face told unmistaka- bly of the student, and there was that in the whole expressicn of the features which denoted intelligence of no or- Ginary standard. ‘ke eyes were most distinctive of all. Deep-set and lust- rous, they shone with the glitter of blue-gray steel, and usually impressed strangers with an almost uncomforta- ble feeling of power aud determination. Well might Richard Somerville stare | m-oodily at the fire; for things had net | past. | Dr. gone well with him for many years past, and now he was being dunned end harrassed by cveditors on all sides. His wife, a slight, fragile-looking, fad- ed woman of thirty, was seated at a ta- ble, ve ane over a huge pile of unre- ceipted bills, many of them accompa- nied by more or less threatening mem- oranda, At last, wearying of the protit- less inspection, she luid them sside, drew a low chair clese to her husband, and, like him, fell to studying the fan- ae shapes taken by the glowing coal. “It's no use fightins any Icnger. Hel- en,” said he, presently. “The landlord absolutely refuses te give any further time, and all the tradespeople have taken their cue from him. Next week will see us sold up, and I see nothing for it but to accept that miserable Manchester appointment. Surely, it is enough to make one curse one’s fel- low men! Not centent with hounding “Great Heaven! What Can Be the Matter?” me from one practice to another, from Harley street to Camden Town, the medical press, egged on by wy fellow- practitioners, have fellowed me even down here. They might have left me alone in the obscurity of Twickenham. But no! I am still the stock illustra- tion of the medical charlatan. Be- cause, forsooth, I have powers denied to other men, and have called in the aid of science to assist those powers, they call me a quack! Yet, there is not one amongst them who dare to put me to the test—not one whose miserable soul I could not turn inside out, had he but courage to see me for five minutes alone in this room!” “Richard, dear,” urged his wife, pleadingly, “why not give up these re- searches ,which have proved so fatal to your professional career? Can you not see that the people are easily per- ed to regard your methods as unnat- ural, if not supernatura For Heay- en’s sake, give up hypnotis d phys- ic your patients in the old way, asother physicians do!” “No, Helen, I will not!’ exclaimed Somerville, his steely eyes flashing an- gvily. “I am neither a liar nor a hyp- ocrite. Have I not seen the entire mis- erable trickery from behind the scenes? | Do I not know that nine-tenths of the fees pocketed by West End phy are the proceeds of deliberate fraud?” “Fraud, Richard?” repeated the wife, with some show of spirit, for, herself a doctor's daughter, she resented the | sweeping charge. “Surely, patients only consult a physician when they feel all, and he endeavors to cure them to the best of his ability. There is no fraud in that.” “For goodness’ sak Helen,” re- joined her husband, irritably, “do not dogmatize upon matters you know nothing about. I tell you that, in the vast majority of cases, the physician diagnoses by mere guess-work; that the same patient, who may consult six physicians separately, will be treated for half-a-dozen different complaints. The Alpha-Omega of medical practice is to keep a patient on the books, not to cure him. The patient bimself a in the deception; not one in ten wiil truthfully answer a doctor's questions as to his past life, and without such knowledge, the doctor is groping in the dark. But to me the patient cannot lie, for I can master his will and extract the most deeply-buried secrets of his And for this I am branded a charlatan by the very men who are often glad, in urgent cases, to invoke as doubtless a satisfaction to Somerville to ride his hobby and ventilate his grievances, and he said much more in the same strain, until ; the sound ef wheels upon the gravel | s outside, followed by a loud peal of the door bell, arrested the flow of his clo- | quence. Hastily brushing past the servant who opened the study door to announce him, Ernest Norton strode into the room and boisterously greeted iis for- | | mer friend. The surprise was to the full as great as he had anticipated “You are about the last person I | should have expected to see, Ern st.” remarked Somerville, presently. hought you were still working away patiently at that mythical gold-mine your uncle left you.” “It proved to be no myth, after all,” replied Norton, laughing; “though I confess that, during the first few years, the results were not very d ing. However, it turned up trumps at last, and I have come back with my pockets i i y-well lined. If I succeed in float. ing it into a company (which my bank- | ers wrote it would be an easy thing to do) I shall be quite a Croesus in a small way.” Naturally enough, the young engineer gave a lengthy account of his Indian experiences, which have, however, nothing to do with this tory. He made no mention whatever of Zana, merely stating that he had very important business to transact next day. “And, by the way, Dick,” he added, “if you have a safe upon the premises, I will ask you to lock away certain val- uables that I have brought with me to deposit in the bank. In this bag are jewels worth a king’s ransom—not mine, but entrusted to me by a friend. I have, besides, nearly £5,000 in Bank of England notes. The rest of the money lies to my credit upon these drafts on the London and Westminster bank.” “Why, you’re quite a millionaire, Mr. Norton!” exclaimed Mrs. Somerville, with, perhaps a-tinge of in her tone, as she reflected upon her hus- band’s involved affairs. “Well, not exactly that,” lauzhed Norton; “but stiN I have something to show for my five years’ exile, and I shall feel easier when all this stuff is under lock and key ” “There's the lock, Ernest,” remerked Somerville, pointing to a small iron safe in a corner of the room, “and here’s the key. So make your mind easy at once.” Norton placed his bag and pocket- book in the safe, and, at his hest’s re- quest, retained the key. “There's nothing of mine of any value inside,” auoth the doctor. drily. ns } “y | Then, in reply to a question of Mrs. Somerville, Norton gaily expressed his entire readiness to have some supper. which that lady forthwith proceeded to see to--not withort some misgivings, probably, as to the contents of her larder. 3 Left tc themselves, the two friends chatted away about old times and pres- ent’ prospects, and, of course, Norton came in for a full account of the dec- tor’s discoveries in hypnotism and of his grievances. “Neyer mind, old_ chaj he ex- claimed, warmly. “If has frowned on you, she has smiled on me: and you must let me be your banker until matters come round a bit. There must be no cerenwny between old chums like us.” Dr. Somerville’s hard eyes softened. “It is ill mixing up friendship with money,’ ’he remarked, with a quaint smile; “but since you insist upon play- ing the part of Lord Bountiful, I shalt not baulk yout generous proposal to the extent of a couple of hundreds.” + “Nonsense!” rejoined Norton. “I'll lend you a thousand—more, if you need it. There, there, old fellow! No pro- tests, and no thanks. You'd do exactly the same by me, were our positions re- versed. But I say, you know, J can’t quite see the policy of sticking to these hypnotic experiments in the teeth of the whole profession. Are you quite sure of your ground?” “Quite sure,” assented Somerville. “T have never yet come across a sub- ject beyond my control.” “Do you mean to tell me,” said Nor- ton, curiously, “that you corld extract information from me, for instance, against my will?” “Most certainly I could, was the in- mply don’t believe i torted Norton, laughing. “You m! perhaps, succeed with some neryous old lady, and I'll bet you a new hat you would fail with me.” The doctor w somewhat nettled; disbelief in his powers was a very sore polat with him. “Shall I try?” he inquired, dril, “All right!” replied Norton. away! long will your experi- ra: 9S ten minutes,” said Somer- ville. “How are your nerves? Good? Because I use the zlectric current to ist me.” “Oh, my nerves are good enoug laughed Norton. “What am I to do “Sit down in that operating chai rejoined his friend, “and as soon as you feel the current at work fix your eyes upon mine.” Norton obeyed these’ instructions, and the experiment preceeded. “He's like the res muttered Som- | erville to himself, as his patient pa’ swiftly under his influence. one believes himself to be invincible. Now then, Ernest Norton, where do you think you are?” “I don't know,” was the reply, ut- tered in a strange, submissive tone. “Well. you're in your Indian bu low. J describe it, roughly, ple of the with spe reference to any orton did so, and the doctor made some notes of his description. | “Very good,” he proceeded. “Now, then, let me see—tell me something, anything you please, that you not care to have generally “About my business affai Norton, meekly. * assented his friend. an oversight. I indorsed one of the drafts for £2,560," id Norton, “and, as these are all payable to my order, if I chanced to lose it on the , the finder could have negoti- voya ated it. Moreover, the signature which I ¢ | | to he sent from my Bombay bankers to | their London agents different to the signature I habitually e. They sug- gested this precaution in addit question to be asked and answered the London and Westminster establish my identity. This mig erwise be hard to establish, for 1 know no one in London except Dick Somer- yille, and he may ve changed his ad- | dress.” ‘ell me the question and the an- er.” commanded Dr. Somerville. “The question i: ‘How much in gold? And the answer, ‘Forty-eight.’ ” | “That will do,” said Somerville. | “Now, Ernest Norton, you may close | your eyes and resume your own will j again.” Norton closed his yes, as bidden, j and the dcctor waited, with a quiet | sinile of satisfaction for him to recover his senses. “Come, wake up, old fellow-” he ex- claimed, presently, “and let us see if ; You recogni the truth of your own | confessions.” But Norton ve Lo | signs of returning consciousness. Then } the doctor shook him and pressed the palm of his hand agairst his ferehead; but still the patient remained moticn- | less. A deadly pallor had gradually | come over his face; his hands were cold, and the fingers curved, like the ws of a frozen bird. Dr. Somerville to yet stronger restorative Without ‘vail, and finally | lifted him bodily out of the chair. It | was as though he were raising a } corpse. With an ejaculation of sur- | prise and dismay, he laid him upon the ; sofa, raising the eyelids, causing the | full glare of the lamp to fall upon the vacant, staring eyes. “Great heavens!’ he exclaimed. “What can be the matter?” In an instant he had uncorked a small bottle, which he applied to the patient's nostrils. This was the most powerful restorative he possessed— used only in emergencies—but it pro- ; duced no effect whatever. In despera- | tion he rushed for a lancet, and made a puncture in Norton’s arm. A slug- | gish ,clammy ooze of blood, scadely amounting to a drop, was all that fol- Jowed. In short, not to-dwell upon the painful scene, the horror-stricken doe- tor was soon convinced that Ernest Norton had succumbed under the ex- periment, and was stone-dead! At the moment of this awful discoy- ery his wife returned to announce that “Why, Richard. what with Mr. Norton?” she FS erg peed serving the still ie Uy “He has fainted” replie ee oe band, in agitated t eontriving to interpose his ren the light and the face. “Sudden. failure of the heart’s action. . . . Supper is out of the Leave him to me, up for me. I shall Pen cont sit p —