Page:The Death-Doctor.djvu/71

Rh "Go on, then," ordered Dr. Lathome; and turning to me, "Mr. d'Escombe, you're in the profession, will you come with me?"

We followed the servant down the fine staircase, into the big hall, along a corridor, and thence up a narrow, winding stairway, evidently built into a circular tower. The man pointed to a door at the top, and then turned and hurried away. He was half crazy with fright.

The doctor knocked at the door, but getting no answer, opened it, and we both entered, to start back aghast.

The man was right—the sight that had met his eye was enough to terrify stronger men than he. On the bed, curled and curved into the most extraordinary and unnatural position, was the body of the handsome and well-set-up young officer who had arrived but a few hours before.

His face, half buried in a pillow, was almost black, his eyes stared wide open, but showed little except the white conjunctivas, and his tongue—half bitten through—protruded from his mouth. His hands were clenched, the nails driven deep into the skin, and his back was curved like a bow. Even the toes themselves were doubled up close to the soles of his