e has the carriage gone?" I asked her.

"Why, sir," she said, "William is taking Mr. Hurn to the station."

After a while I had the courage to say cautiously, "I thought Mr. Hurn
was still asleep; I did not hear him come down."

"He came down ten minutes ago," she replied, "and in a great hurry, with
no time for breakfast."

"You saw him?" I cross-examined.

"Yes. The carriage was waiting, and he seemed in a great hurry, though
he did run back to take a letter from the table there."

I was standing between the table and the maid.

"Well, of course you're right," I said, carelessly, and at that moment I
put my hand on the letter. I turned my back and put it in my pocket.

I went hurriedly to the barn. The runabout trap and the mare were out.
Then I finished dressing, and had breakfast. Soon after, William drove
into the yard, and I called from the library window--"Where have you
been?"

"Just to the station, sir."

"What for? Has my freight arrived?"

"Mr. Hurn, for the 11.10,"--he explained respectfully.

"Ah, yes!" I cried, in an overvoice; "I keep forgetting that I have just
waked up. You saw him off? Ah--did he leave any message for me? I
overslept, and did not see him this morning."

"No, sir; I had no message," he replied. "But he's a liberal man, Mr.
Hurn, sir." He grinned and slapped his pocket; then, with a look of
doubt, he straightened out one leg to allow his hand inside; the look
grew more doubting; he stood up and searched systematically, under the
seat, everywhere.

"Guess it rolled out," I said, very much interested. "What was it?"

"A silver dollar," he answered, mournfully.

"Oh, well, I'll make that up," I called, and shut the window.

I took out my watch and made a calculation; Auber's train was probably
at Newark. I could stand it no longer, and I went toward his room,
stamping on the bare floor, whistling nervously, and rattling the
rickety balustrade. I banged open the door and began to shout: "Auber!
you've missed your----"

He did not move. He was lying on his back, with his arms extended evenly
outside the bedclothes, which were tucked close around his breast. He
lay as if in state, with that dull dusty pallor on his face, and that
eyeless vacancy of an effigy on a marble tomb--a voidness of expression,
with masklike indications of duration and immobility. On the
reading-table, at his bedside, I noticed his watch lying face up. It was
two or three minutes of the noon hour.