he's better, Ma'am, as we hope.'

'Oh! Mr. Moore, it's you,' sobbed the poor woman, holding fast by the
sleeve of the barber, who that moment, with many reverences and 'your
servant, Ma'am,' had mounted to the lobby with the look of awestruck
curiosity, in his long, honest face, which the solemn circumstance of
his visit warranted.

'You're the man we sent for?' demanded Dillon, gruffly.

''Tis good Mr. Moore,' cried trembling little Mrs. Sturk, deprecating
and wheedling him instinctively to make him of her side, and lead him to
take part with her and resist all violence to her husband--flesh of her
flesh, and bone of her bone.

'Why don't you spake, Sor-r-r? Are you the barber we sent for or no?
What ails you, man?' demanded the savage Doctor Dillon, in a suppressed
roar.

'At your sarvice, Ma'am--Sir,' replied Moore, with submissive alacrity.

'Come in here, then. Come in, will you?' cried the doctor, hauling him
in with his great red hand.

'There now--there now--there--there,' he said gruffly, extending his
palm to keep off poor Mrs. Sturk.

So he shut the door, and poor Mrs. Sturk heard him draw the bolt, and
felt that her Barney had passed out of her hands, and that she could do
nothing for him now but clasp her hands and gasp up her prayers for his
deliverance; and so great indeed was her anguish and panic, that she had
not room for the feminine reflection how great a brute Doctor Dillon
was.

So she heard them walking this way and that, but could not distinguish
what they said, only she heard them talking; and once or twice a word
reached her, but not very intelligible, such as--

''Twas Surgeon Beauchamp's--see that'

'Mighty curious.'

Then a lot of mumbling, and

'Cruciform, of course.'

This was said by Doctor Dillon, near the door, where he had come to take
an additional candle from the table that stood there; as he receded it
lost itself in mumble again, and then she heard quite plainly--

'Keep your hand there.'

And a few seconds after,

'Hold it there and don't let it drip.'

And then a little more mumbled dialogue, and she thought she heard--

'Begin now.'

And there was a dead silence of many seconds; and Mrs. Sturk felt as if
she must scream, and her heart beat at a gallop, and her dry, white
lips silently called upon her Maker for help, and she felt quite wild,
and very faint; and heard them speak brief, and low together, and then
another long silence; and then a loud voic