at this!" objected Silas, pointing to the body. "Here is this
object in my bed: not to be explained, not to be disposed of, not to be
regarded without horror."

"Horror?" replied the Doctor. "No. When this sort of clock has run down,
it is no more to me than an ingenious piece of mechanism, to be
investigated with the bistoury. When blood is once cold and stagnant, it
is no longer human blood; when flesh is once dead, it is no longer that
flesh which we desire in our lovers and respect in our friends. The
grace, the attraction, the terror, have all gone from it with the
animating spirit. Accustom yourself to look upon it with composure; for
if my scheme is practicable you will have to live some days in constant
proximity to that which now so greatly horrifies you."

"Your scheme?" cried Silas. "What is that? Tell me speedily, Doctor;
for I have scarcely courage enough to continue to exist."

Without replying, Dr. Noel turned towards the bed, and proceeded to
examine the corpse.

"Quite dead," he murmured. "Yes, as I had supposed, the pockets empty.
Yes, and the name cut off the shirt. Their work has been done thoroughly
and well. Fortunately, he is of small stature."

Silas followed these words with an extreme anxiety. At last the Doctor,
his autopsy completed, took a chair and addressed the young American
with a smile.

"Since I came into your room," said he, "although my ears and my tongue
have been so busy, I have not suffered my eyes to remain idle. I noted a
little while ago that you have there, in the corner, one of those
monstrous constructions which your fellow-countrymen carry with them
into all quarters of the globe--in a word, a Saratoga trunk. Until this
moment I have never been able to conceive the utility of these
erections; but then I began to have a glimmer. Whether it was for
convenience in the slave-trade, or to obviate the results of too ready
an employment of the bowie-knife, I cannot bring myself to decide. But
one thing I see plainly--the object of such a box is to contain a human
body."

"Surely," cried Silas, "surely this is not a time for jesting."

"Although I may express myself with some degree of pleasantry," replied
the Doctor, "the purport of my words is entirely serious. And the first
thing we have to do, my young friend, is to empty your coffer of all
that it contains."

Silas, obeying the authority of Dr. Noel, put himself at his
disposition. The Saratoga trunk was soon gutted