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 bromidia I had given him would produce deeper and deeper slumber as the hours went by. There was a possibility also that he might awake calm, self-possessed, and in his right mind once more.

I sat on by the fire, and my thoughts wandered back to the tragic events of the last few days. The house was intensely quiet, but a bright light burnt in the hall, where the coffin on its daïs of flowers lay, the central object of attraction. There lay the bride, and here was I taking care of the bridegroom.

All of a sudden I felt an intense desire to look once again on the face of the dead girl. I felt almost a sense of shock as this wish came over me. Why should I disturb the peaceful dead? Why not respect poor Raymond's desire that no eyes should look on his wife after death but his? I banished the thought almost as soon as it came, but not effectually, for it returned again, again, and yet again. Then, to add force to my wish, I recalled Raymond's words.

"After death she was warm—she grew cold later on, but was never icy."

"Good God!" I said to myself, springing to my feet in my agitation, "and no medical man, not even a professional nurse, saw this poor soul after death. No one expected her death. When I saw her last she was hysterical, nervous, over-wrought.

"There was no doubt that she was either partly or wholly insane. She was suffering from shock, and shock might lead to—to—to catalepsy! How do I know that she is dead? I will not rest until I find out for myself whether the spirit has really left this body." I felt painfully excited; but with the excitement came also an accompanying coolness and steadiness of nerve.

"What an ass Grey was not to see Mrs. Raymond," I said to myself. "Certainly death certificates ought to be altered—no medical man ought to be allowed to give one unless he has first seen the body, and testified with his own eyes to the presence of death. In this case, no one capable of judging saw that poor girl. Her husband lost his self-control—his mind was over=balanced—he became possessed with a desire, which was absolute insanity, to bring her here without a moment's delay. She was put into her coffin far too soon. Why did not I see her when I arrived at Llanmordaff late yesterday evening? God grant she has not died from suffocation. Anyhow, there is no peace for me until I solve this question."

I went softly into the hall and, ringing a bell, summoned Jasper on the scene.

For every reason it was well I should have a witness of my actions, and also someone to render me assistance if necessary. I much wondered, however, if the old man had nerve to witness my performance. Thank God, at least Raymond was sleeping. Suppose, however, that he awakened suddenly, that he came into the hall? I turned my mind resolutely from this contingency. Jasper was standing before me with the scared look still very manifest on his white old face. For some reason I preferred his assistance to that of Berring, the steward.

"Fetch me a screw-driver," I said, when the old man appeared. I spoke as sharply and incisively as I could. "Be quick about it," I continued, "don't make any noise."

Jasper pottered away in some bewilderment. He returned with the necessary instrument in the course of a few minutes.

"Now," I said, "I want you to do something for me."

"Certainly, doctor."

"I want you, whatever happens, to keep your nerve. I am anxious, for reasons which I need not explain to you, to open the coffin."

"Good Lord!" cried the man, falling back.

"Keep quiet," I said, sternly; "you can control yourself if you wish. I intend to open the shell in which Mrs. Raymond has been placed. It so happens that no medical man has seen her since her death. This, in my opinion, ought never to be allowed—there are cases on record where inexperienced people have mistaken a disease called catalepsy for actual death. In order to satisfy my own mind, I mean now to look at the body. In case, however—as, alas, is most probable—Mrs. Raymond is really dead, I do not wish your master to know anything of this, either now or at any time in the future. Can I trust you with so grave a secret?"

"You can, doctor, you can."

"Thank you," I answered. "I felt sure that your courage would rise to the occasion. Remember, too, that I am your master's friend as well as his medical adviser."

"Be you Dr. Halifax, sir?"

"Yes."

A look of relief passed over the man's face.

"That's all right, then," he said. "We all know what Mr. Raymond thinks of you, sir. I'll do anything you want me to do, Dr. Halifax, only it isn't necessary for me to see the poor missus too, sir?"

"Certainly not. I wish you to stand by that study door with your hand on the key.