s breast
gently, and then thrusting it beneath the fold of the thick pea-jacket.

"It is not delirium; they--"

The doctor hesitated a few moments after drawing back from the couch
once more. Then, with his whole manner changed, he thrust his hand into
the sleeping man's breast, glanced round, and, satisfied that he was not
overlooked, drew forth a good-sized wash-leather bag, simply tied round
the neck with a strip of the same skin.

"Stones," muttered the doctor, with his face agitated and his eyes
glittering; and after balancing the bag in his hand and glancing at the
sleeping man, he placed it upon the table, where the light of the lamp
was upon it full.

Then ensued a period of hesitation, the doctor's fingers worked as he
stood gazing down at the little yellowish-drab bag, and anon at his
patient.

Then the newly awakened curiosity prevailed, and, unable to contain
himself, he rapidly untied the string, drew open the bag, and saw that
it was nearly full of large rough crystals, which sparkled in a feeble
way in the light.

"Why, they must be worth a large sum," muttered the doctor, pouring out
some of the stones into his hand, but pouring them back with a shudder.
"How horrible!"

He did not say what was horrible, but hastily retied the bag and placed
it back in the sleeping man's breast, before hurrying out into the
surgery, and pacing to and fro in an agitated way.

CHAPTER NINE.

THE STRANGE ACCIDENT.

A change seemed to have come over Doctor Chartley. A short time before
he was calm and placid, his movements were slow, and a pleasant
stereotyped professional smile made his handsome face beam. But now all
was changed; the smile had gone, and, as he had passed to and fro, the
light from the gas bracket displayed a countenance puckered with curious
lines and frowns, while the variations of shadow caused by his
constantly-changing position seemed to have altered him into another
man.

He went back into the consulting-room, and looked at his patient, to
find him breathing more easily and plunged into a deep sleep; and as he
bent over him his hand stole toward the prostrate man's breast.

He snatched it away angrily, and returned to the surgery, to resume his
hurried walk, muttering to himself, his thoughts finding utterance in
sound, till he started and looked about him, as if in dread of being
overheard.

Stealing back to the consulting-room, he went to the closet, and took
out the bottle