he horror of my own suspicions. I had
just sense enough to keep out of Mr. Engelman's way until I felt my mind
restored in some degree to its customary balance.

Recovering the power of thinking connectedly, I began to feel ashamed of
the panic which had seized on me.

What conceivable object had the widow to gain by Mr. Keller's death? Her
whole interest in her daughter's future centered, on the contrary, in his
living long enough to be made ashamed of his prejudices, and to give his
consent to the marriage. To kill him for the purpose of removing Fritz
from the influence of his father's authority would be so atrocious an act
in itself, and would so certainly separate Minna and Fritz for ever, in
the perfectly possible event of a discovery, that I really recoiled from
the contemplation of this contingency as I might have recoiled from
deliberately disgracing myself. Doctor Dormann had rashly rushed at a
false conclusion--that was the one comforting reflection that occurred to
me. I threw open my door again in a frenzy of impatience to hear the
decision, whichever way it might turn.

The experiment had been tried in my absence. Mr. Keller had fallen into a
broken slumber. Doctor Dormann was just closing the little bag in which
he had brought his testing apparatus from his own house. Even now there
was no prevailing on him to state his suspicions plainly.

"It's curious," he said, "to see how all mortal speculations on events,
generally resolve themselves into threes. Have we given the emetic too
late? Are my tests insufficient? Or have I made a complete mistake?" He
turned to his elder colleague. "My dear doctor, I see you want a positive
answer. No need to leave the room, Mr. Engelman! You and the young
English gentleman, your friend, must not be deceived for a single moment
so far as I am concerned. I see in the patient a mysterious wasting of
the vital powers, which is not accompanied by the symptoms of any disease
known to me to which I can point as a cause. In plain words, I tell you,
I don't understand Mr. Keller's illness."

It was perhaps through a motive of delicacy that he persisted in making a
needless mystery of his suspicions. In any case he was evidently a man
who despised all quackery from the bottom of his heart. The old doctor
looked at him with a frown of disapproval, as if his frank confession had
violated the unwritten laws of medical etiquette.

"If you will allow me to watch the case," he resu