ill in the house. It was her husband; she felt
certain of it at once. Something had happened to him. Without a moment's
pause, she ran across the street, opened the door, and entered. There was
no one in the passage. The dining-room door was wide open--no one was
there. Mr. Pilgrim, then, was already up-stairs. She rushed up at once to
Dempster's room--her own room. The door was open, and she paused in pale
horror at the sight before her, which seemed to stand out only with the
more appalling distinctness because the noonday light was darkened to
twilight in the chamber.

Two strong nurses were using their utmost force to hold Dempster in bed,
while the medical assistant was applying a sponge to his head, and Mr.
Pilgrim was busy adjusting some apparatus in the background. Dempster's
face was purple and swollen, his eyes dilated, and fixed with a look of
dire terror on something he seemed to see approaching him from the iron
closet. He trembled violently, and struggled as if to jump out of bed.

'Let me go, let me go,' he said in a loud, hoarse whisper; 'she's coming
... she's cold ... she's dead ... she'll strangle me with her black hair.
Ah!' he shrieked aloud, 'her hair is all serpents ... they're black
serpents ... they hiss ... they hiss . .. let me go . . . let me go . . .
she wants to drag me with her cold arms ... her arms are serpents ...
they are great white serpents ... they'll twine round me ... she wants to
drag me into the cold water ... her bosom is cold ... it is black ... it
is all serpents ...'

'No, Robert,' Janet cried, in tones of yearning pity, rushing to the side
of the bed, and stretching out her arms towards him, 'no, here is Janet.
She is not dead--she forgives you.'

Dempster's maddened senses seemed to receive some new impression from her
appearance. The terror gave way to rage.

'Ha! you sneaking hypocrite!' he burst out in a grating voice, 'you
threaten me ... you mean to have your revenge on me, do you? Do your
worst! I've got the law on my side ... I know the law ... I'll hunt you
down like a hare ... prove it ... prove that I was tampered with ...
prove that I took the money ... prove it ... you can prove nothing ...
you damned psalm-singing maggots! I'll make a fire under you, and smoke
off the whole pack of you ... I'll sweep you up ... I'll grind you to
powder ... small powder ... (here his voice dropt to a low tone of
shuddering disgust) ... powder on the bed-clothes ... running