change. The
reading-stand lay unobserved upon the floor: he had forgotten to "put it
to rights." He looked all about the room, dispersing the deeper shadows
by movements of the candle in his hand, and crossing over to the door
tested it by turning and pulling the knob with all his strength. It did
not yield and this seemed to afford him a certain satisfaction; indeed,
he secured it more firmly by a bolt which he had not before observed.
Returning to his chair, he looked at his watch; it was half-past nine.
With a start of surprise he held the watch at his ear. It had not
stopped. The candle was now visibly shorter. He again extinguished it,
placing it on the floor at his side as before.

Mr. Jarette was not at his ease; he was distinctly dissatisfied with his
surroundings, and with himself for being so. "What have I to fear?" he
thought. "This is ridiculous and disgraceful; I will not be so great a
fool." But courage does not come of saying, "I will be courageous," nor
of recognizing its appropriateness to the occasion. The more Jarette
condemned himself, the more reason he gave himself for condemnation; the
greater the number of variations which he played upon the simple theme
of the harmlessness of the dead, the more insupportable grew the discord
of his emotions. "What!" he cried aloud in the anguish of his spirit,
"what! shall I, who have not a shade of superstition in my nature--I,
who have no belief in immortality--I, who know (and never more clearly
than now) that the after-life is the dream of a desire--shall I lose at
once my bet, my honor and my self-respect, perhaps my reason, because
certain savage ancestors dwelling in caves and burrows conceived the
monstrous notion that the dead walk by night?--that--" Distinctly,
unmistakably, Mr. Jarette heard behind him a light, soft sound of
footfalls, deliberate, regular, successively nearer!

IV

Just before daybreak the next morning Dr. Helberson and his young
friend Harper were driving slowly through the streets of North Beach in
the doctor's coupe.

"Have you still the confidence of youth in the courage or stolidity of
your friend?" said the elder man. "Do you believe that I have lost this
wager?"

"I _know_ you have," replied the other, with enfeebling emphasis.

"Well, upon my soul, I hope so."

It was spoken earnestly, almost solemnly. There was a silence for a few
moments.

"Harper," the doctor resumed, looking very serious in the shifting
half-li