my birthday I shall see her again, and see her for the last
time."

"Do you mean that she will kill you?"

"I mean that, sir, she will kill me--with the knife."

"And with Rigobert in the room to protect you?"

"I am a doomed man. Fifty Rigoberts couldn't protect me."

"And you wanted somebody to sit up with you?"

"Mere weakness, sir. I don't like to be left alone on my deathbed."

I looked at the surgeon. If he had encouraged me, I should certainly, out
of sheer compassion, have confessed to Francis Raven the trick that we
were playing him. The surgeon held to his experiment; the surgeon's face
plainly said--"No."

The next day (the twenty-ninth of February) was the day of the "Silver
Wedding." The first thing in the morning, I went to Francis Raven's room.
Rigobert met me at the door.

"How has he passed the night?" I asked.

"Saying his prayers, and looking for ghosts," Rigobert answered. "A
lunatic asylum is the only proper place for him."

I approached the bedside. "Well, Francis, here you are, safe and sound, in
spite of what you said to me last night."

His eyes rested on mine with a vacant, wondering look.

"I don't understand it," he said.

"Did you see anything of your wife when the clock struck two?"

"No, sir."

"Did anything happen?"

"Nothing happened, sir."

"Doesn't _this_ satisfy you that you were wrong?"

His eyes still kept their vacant, wondering look. He only repeated the
words he had spoken already: "I don't understand it."

I made a last attempt to cheer him. "Come, come, Francis! keep a good
heart. You will be out of bed in a fortnight."

He shook his head on the pillow. "There's something wrong," he said. "I
don't expect you to believe me, sir. I only say there's something
wrong--and time will show it."

I left the room. Half an hour later I started for Mr. Beldheimer's house;
leaving the arrangements for the morning of the first of March in the
hands of the doctor and my wife.

XVI

The one thing which principally struck me when I joined the guests at the
"Silver Wedding" is also the one thing which it is necessary to mention
here. On this joyful occasion a noticeable lady present was out of
spirits. That lady was no other than the heroine of the festival, the
mistress of the house!

In the course of the evening I spoke to Mr. Beldheimer's eldest son on the
subject of his mother. As an old friend of the family, I had a claim on
his confidence which the young