utes more the watches ticked off; very, very slowly. Neither of
the men had thought, beforehand, of this time of waiting. Big drops of
sweat were forming on both their faces, and in the ears of each the
blood sang madly. A haze, as from the dropping of a shade, seemed to
have formed and hung over the room, and in unison sounds from without
acquired a certain faintness, like that born of distance. Through it
all the two men sat motionless, watching the candle and the time, as
the fascinated bird watches its charmer; as the subject watches the
hypnotist,--as if the passive exercise were the one imperative thing
in the world.

"Thirteen minutes."

Unconsciously, Arnold was counting aloud. The flame was very low, now,
and he started to move his chair closer, then sank back, a smile,
almost ghastly, upon his lips. The blaze had reached the level of the
socket, and was growing smaller and smaller. Two minutes yet to burn!
He had lost.

He tried to turn his eyes away, but they seemed fastened to the spot,
and he powerless. It was as though death, from staring him in the
face, had suddenly gripped him hard. The panorama of his past life
flashed through his mind. The thoughts of the drowning man, of the
miner who hears the rumble of crumbling earth, of the prisoner
helpless and hopeless who feels the first touch of flame,--common
thought of all these were his; and in a space of time which, though
seeming to him endless, was in reality but seconds.

Then came the duller reaction and the events of the last few minutes
repeated themselves, impersonally, spectacularly,--as though they
were the actions of another man; one for whom he felt very sorry. He
even went into the future and saw this same man lying down with a tiny
bottle in his hand, preparing for the sleep from which there would be
no awakening,--the sleep which, in anticipation, seemed so pleasant.

Concomitant with this thought the visionary shaded into the real, and
there came the determination to act at once, this very afternoon, as
soon as Ichabod had gone. He even felt a little relief at the
decision. After all, it was so much simpler than if he had won, for
then--then--He laughed gratingly at the thought. Cursed if he would
have known what to have done, then!

The sound roused him and he looked at his watch. A minute had passed,
fourteen from the first and the flame still sputtered. Was it possible
after all--after he had decided--that he was not to lose, that