om you is
lying where I cast it in the rain."

Dr. Macfarlane had talked himself into some measure of superiority and
confidence, but the uncommon energy of this refusal cast him back into
his first confusion.

A horrible, ugly look came and went across his almost venerable
countenance. "My dear fellow," he said, "be it as you please; my last
thought is to offend you. I would intrude on none. I will leave you my
address, however--"

"I do not wish it--I do not wish to know the roof that shelters you,"
interrupted the other. "I heard your name; I feared it might be you; I
wished to know if, after all, there were a God; I know now that there is
none. Begone!"

He still stood in the middle of the rug, between the stair and doorway;
and the great London physician, in order to escape, would be forced to
step to one side. It was plain that he hesitated before the thought of
this humiliation. White as he was, there was a dangerous glitter in his
spectacles; but while he still paused uncertain, he became aware that
the driver of his fly was peering in from the street at this unusual
scene and caught a glimpse at the same time of our little body from the
parlour, huddled by the corner of the bar. The presence of so many
witnesses decided him at once to flee. He crouched together, brushing on
the wainscot, and made a dart like a serpent, striking for the door. But
his tribulation was not entirely at an end, for even as he was passing
Fettes clutched him by the arm and these words came in a whisper, and
yet painfully distinct, "Have you seen it again?"

The great rich London doctor cried out aloud with a sharp, throttling
cry; he dashed his questioner across the open space, and, with his hands
over his head, fled out of the door like a detected thief. Before it had
occurred to one of us to make a movement the fly was already rattling
toward the station. The scene was over like a dream, but the dream had
left proofs and traces of its passage. Next day the servant found the
fine gold spectacles broken on the threshold, and that very night we
were all standing breathless by the bar-room window, and Fettes at our
side, sober, pale, and resolute in look.

"God protect us, Mr. Fettes!" said the landlord, coming first into
possession of his customary senses. "What in the universe is all this?
These are strange things you have been saying."

Fettes turned toward us; he looked us each in succession in the face.
"See if you can hol