n:

"I lowered him again, not daring to think that he was alive, knowing
that the sound might have been caused by the escape of a little air from
the cavity of the chest. For a few minutes I was sure that this was so,
and my hopes were all dashed again. People have called me a learned
man, Malcolm; but, before a difficulty like that, I was a poor,
helpless, ignorant child.

"Mastering myself, though, at last, I thrust my hand into his breast;
but I could feel nothing. I fancied there was a pulsation, but could
not tell but that it might be caused by my own throbbing arteries. I
tried the wrists, and then, tearing open the collar of his shirt, thrust
my hand in there, and the pulsation was plain now. More, I distinctly
felt a throb, as a low moan once more escaped from the man's lips."

"Not dead?" gasped Stratton. "Her husband! Living? Great Heavens!"

He sank back into his chair, staring wildly; and then, in a hoarse
whisper:

"Go on!" he panted, "go on!"

"The way of escape was open widely now," cried Brettison, reaching over
to clutch his companion's wrist, "and I could see my way clearly. It
was madness to attempt to move the body of a dead man through the
streets, boy--detection was certain; but to take a sick or injured man
from one place to another was simplicity itself, and I breathed freely.
I could act."

"Not dead--not dead!" muttered Stratton, who looked as if he had
received some terrible mental blow, which had confused his faculties and
made the effort of following his old friend's narrative almost beyond
his powers.

"I closed that door at once, in dread now lest the moans should have
been heard; and, able to grasp the position, I could work coolly enough.
Going down on my knees with sponge and basin, I soon found that there
was a small orifice behind the right ear. This had bled freely, but it
had ceased; and, grasping at once that the bullet had gone upward, I
examined next to find its place of exit.

"There was none. The bullet was, in all probability, still in the head.

"He moaned a little as I bathed away all traces of the injury; and when
I had done, save that tiny orifice just behind the ear, there was
nothing to show that he was not sleeping, for the face was quite
composed.

"What to do next? Not a moment, I felt, must be lost, if I wished to
save his life; and, with a feeling of grim cynicism, I asked myself
whether I did. For I was in a dilemma. On the one hand, if