all about the little treasure with which he had set out, how
hardly it had been gathered together, what had been already fruitlessly
expended, and just how much remained,--he told it all as he had told it
in the first instance, but with what different effect!

Dr. Killmany never touched any case for a sum like that! Indeed, his
services were in such requisition, it was almost impossible to obtain
them on any terms; but he, the decoy, for reasons which he did not
state, would exert to the utmost his own personal influence in Hobert's
favor. "I cannot promise you a favorable answer," he said; "there is
just a possibility, and that is all. A man like Dr. Killmany, sir, can't
be haggling about dollars and cents!" And then he intimated that such
things might be well enough for Dr. Shepard and his sort of practice.

There was some further talk, and the time ran by, and it was night.
Against his will almost, Hobert had been persuaded. He was to sleep in
the Doctor's office that night, and his case was to be the first
attended to in the morning. "You can rest very well on the floor, I
suppose," the decoy had said, "taking your saddle-bags for a pillow. The
whole thing will be over in half an hour, and I myself will see you
aboard the Arrow before ten o'clock, and so you need take no more
thought for yourself."

That night, when at last Hobert made a pillow of his saddle-bags and
coiled himself together, he felt as if a circle of fire were narrowing
around him, and yet utter inability to escape.

"You need take no more thought for yourself." These words kept ringing
in his ears like a knell, and the mistletoe striking through his bosom,
and the beak of the raven in his heart,--these were the sensations with
which, long after midnight, he drowsed into sleep.

When he awoke, there was a rough hand on his shoulder and a harsh voice
in his ear. The room was light with the light of morning, but dark with
the shadow of coming doom. There came upon him a strange and great
calmness when he found himself in the operating-room. There were all the
frightful preparations,--the water, the sponges, the cloths and
bandages, the Doctor with his case of instruments before him, and
looking more like a murderer than a surgeon. Almost his heart misgave
him as he looked around, and remembered Jenny and the little ones at
home; but the carriage that was to take him aboard the Arrow already
waited at the door, and the sight of it reassured him.