horrible!"

Ste. Marie had dropped upon his knees beside the fallen man, and Mlle.
Nilssen said, over her shoulder:

"Hold his head up from the floor, if you can bear to. He might hurt it."

It was not an easy thing to do, for Ste. Marie had the natural sense of
repulsion in such matters that most people have, and this man's
appearance, as Olga Nilssen had said, was horrible. The face was drawn
hideously, and in the strong, clear light of the electrics it was a
deathly yellow. The eyes were half closed, and the eyeballs turned up so
that only the whites of them showed between the lids. There was froth
upon the distorted mouth, and it clung to the catlike mustache and to
the shallow, sunken chin beneath. But Ste. Marie exerted all his will
power, and took the jerking, trembling head in his hands, holding it
clear of the floor.

"You'd better call the servant," he said. "There may be something that
can be done."

But the woman answered, without looking:

"No, there's nothing that can be done, I believe, except to keep him
from bruising himself. Stimulants--that sort of thing--do more harm than
good. Could you get him on the bed here?"

"Together we might manage it," said Ste. Marie. "Come and help!"

"I can't!" she cried, nervously. "I can't--touch him. Please, I can't do
it."

"Come!" said the man, in a sharp tone. "It's no time for nerves. I don't
like it, either, but it's got to be done."

The woman began a half-hysterical sobbing, but after a moment she turned
and came with slow feet to where Stewart lay.

Ste. Marie slipped his arms under the man's body and began to raise him
from the floor.

"You needn't help, after all," he said. "He's not heavy."

And, indeed, under his skilfully shaped and padded clothes the man was a
mere waif of a man--as unbelievably slight as if he were the victim of a
wasting disease. Ste. Marie held the body in his arms as if it had been
a child, and carried it across and laid it on the bed; but it was many
months before he forgot the horror of that awful thing shaking and
twitching in his hold, the head thumping hideously upon his shoulder,
the arms and legs beating against him. It was the most difficult task he
had ever had to perform. He laid Captain Stewart upon the bed and
straightened the helpless limbs as best he could.

"I suppose," he said, rising again--"I suppose when the man comes out of
this he'll be frightfully exhausted and drop off to sleep, won't he?
We'll