the Will was
a very short one. It was impossible not to notice the only legacy
left; the words crossed the paper, just above the signatures, and only
occupied two lines: "I leave to Zoe, youngest daughter of Mr. John
Gallilee, of Fairfield Gardens, London, everything absolutely of which
I die possessed." Excepting the formal introductory phrases, and the
statement relating to the witnesses--both copied from a handy book of
law, lying open on the table--this was the Will.

The female servants were allowed to go downstairs; after having been
informed that they were to leave the next morning. The footman was
detained in the dining-room.

"I am going to the laboratory," the master said; "and I want a few
things carried to the door."

The big basket for waste paper, three times filled with letters and
manuscripts; the books; the medicine chest; and the stone jar of oil
from the kitchen--these, the master and the man removed together;
setting them down at the laboratory door. It was a still cold starlight
winter's night. The intermittent shriek of a railway whistle in the
distance, was the only sound that disturbed the quiet of the time.

"Good night!" said the master.

The man returned the salute, and walked back to the house, closing the
front door. He was now more firmly persuaded than ever that something
was wrong. In the hall, the women were waiting for him. "What does it
mean?" they asked. "Keep quiet," he said; "I'm going to see."

In another minute he was posted at the back of the house, behind the
edge of the wall. Looking out from this place, he could see the light
of the lamps in the laboratory streaming through the open door, and the
dark figure of the master coming and going, as he removed the objects
left outside into the building. Then the door was shut, and nothing was
visible but the dim glow that found its way to the skylight, through the
white blind inside.

He boldly crossed the open space of ground, resolved to try what his
ears might discover, now that his eyes were useless. He posted himself
at the back of the laboratory, close to one of the side walls.

Now and then, he heard--what had reached his ears when he had been
listening on former occasions--the faint whining cries of animals. These
were followed by new sounds. Three smothered shrieks, succeeding
each other at irregular intervals, made his blood run cold. Had three
death-strokes been dealt on some suffering creatures, with the same
su