t you give me
something to put me out of my misery?"

Curtis was already at work over him.

"No," he said briefly. "I'm going to pull you through. You're wanted."

"You lie!" gasped back Mercer, and said no more.

Some hours after, starting suddenly from fevered sleep, he asked an
abrupt question:

"Does my wife know?"

"Yes, she knows," Curtis answered.

He flung his arms wide with a bitter gesture. "She'll soon be free," he
said.

"Not if I know it," said Curtis, in his quiet, unemotional style.

"You can't make me live against my will," muttered Mercer.

"Don't talk like a fool!" responded Curtis.

Late that night a hand that was not Curtis's smoothed the sick man's
pillow, and presently gave him nourishment. He noticed the difference
instantly, though he could not open his eyes; but he said nothing at the
time, and she fancied he did not know her.

But presently, when she thought him sleeping, he spoke.

"When did you come?"

Even then she was not sure that he was in his right mind. His face was
so swollen and disfigured that it told her nothing. She answered him
very softly:

"I came with Mr. Curtis."

"Why?" That one word told her that he was in full possession of his
senses. He moved his head to and fro on the pillow as one vainly seeking
rest. "Did you want to see me in hell?" he questioned harshly.

She leaned towards him. She was sitting by his bed.

"No," she said, speaking under her breath. "I came because--because it
was the only way out--for us both."

"What?" he said, and the old impatient frown drew his forehead. "You
came to see me die, then?"

"I came," she answered, "to try and make you live."

He drew a breath that was a groan.

"You won't succeed," he said.

"Why not?" she asked.

Again feverishly he moved his head, and she smoothed his pillow afresh
with hands that trembled.

"Don't touch me!" he said sharply. "What was Curtis dreaming of to bring
you here?"

"Mr. Curtis couldn't help it," she answered, with more assurance. "I
came." And then after a moment, "Are you--sorry--I came?"

"Yes," he muttered.

"Oh, why?" she said.

"I would sooner die--without you looking on," he said, forcing out his
words through set teeth.

"Oh, why?" she said again. "Don't you believe--can't you believe--that I
want you to live?"

"No," he groaned.

"Not if I swear it?" she asked, her voice sunk very low.

"No!" He flung the word with something of his ancient ferocity. S