ind."

I sat for some time lost in amazement, and staring at my companion. My
curiosity was powerfully stimulated, and the desire to learn more was
very strong within me.

"Had your master any personal defect," I inquired, "which might have made
it distressing to him to see his own image reflected?"

"By no means, sir," said the old man. "He was as handsome a gentleman as
you would wish to see: a little delicate-looking and careworn, perhaps,
with a very pale face; but as free from any deformity as you or I, sir.
No, sir, no; it was nothing of that."

"Then what was it? What is it?" I asked, desperately. "Is there no one
who is, or has been, in your master's confidence?"

"Yes, sir," said the old fellow, with his eyes turning to that window
opposite. "There is one person who knows all my master's secrets, and
this secret among the rest."

"And who is that?"

The old man turned round and looked at me fixedly. "The doctor here," he
said. "Dr. Garden. My master's very old friend."

"I should like to speak with this gentleman," I said, involuntarily.

"He is with my master now," answered Masey. "He will be coming out
presently, and I think I may say he will answer any question you may like
to put to him." As the old man spoke, the door of the house opened, and
a middle-aged gentleman, who was tall and thin, but who lost something of
his height by a habit of stooping, appeared on the step. Old Masey left
me in a moment. He muttered something about taking the doctor's
directions, and hastened across the road. The tall gentleman spoke to
him for a minute or two very seriously, probably about the patient
up-stairs, and it then seemed to me from their gestures that I myself was
the subject of some further conversation between them. At all events,
when old Masey retired into the house, the doctor came across to where I
was standing, and addressed me with a very agreeable smile.

"John Masey tells me that you are interested in the case of my poor
friend, sir. I am now going back to my house, and if you don't mind the
trouble of walking with me, I shall be happy to enlighten you as far as I
am able."

I hastened to make my apologies and express my acknowledgments, and we
set off together. When we had reached the doctor's house and were seated
in his study, I ventured to inquire after the health of this poor
gentleman.

"I am afraid there is no amendment, nor any prospect of amendment," said
the doctor