"
"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, Doctor 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.
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