Well，oneSeptember，asItoldyou，youngArthurcomestoDoncaster，havingdecidedallofasudden，inhishare—brainedway，thathewouldgototheraces。Hedidnotreachthetowntilltowardthecloseofevening，andhewentatoncetoseeabouthisdinnerandbedattheprincipalhotel。Dinnertheywerereadyenoughtogivehim，butasforabed，theylaughedwhenhementionedit。Intherace—weekatDoncasteritisnouncommonthingforvisitorswhohavenotbespokenapartmentstopassthenightintheircarriagesattheinndoors。Asforthelowersortofstrangers，Imyselfhaveoftenseenthem，atthatfulltime，sleepingoutonthedoorstepsforwantofacoveredplacetocreepunder。Richashewas，Arthur’schanceofgettinganight’slodging（seeingthathehadnotwrittenbeforehandtosecureone）
　　wasmorethandoubtful。Hetriedthesecondhotel，andthethirdhotel，andtwooftheinferiorinnsafterthat，andwasmeteverywherewiththesameformofanswer。Noaccommodationforthenightofanysortwasleft。AllthebrightgoldensovereignsinhispocketwouldnotbuyhimabedatDoncasterintherace—week。
　　ToayoungfellowofArthur’stemperament，thenoveltyofbeingturnedawayintothestreetlikeapennilessvagabond，ateveryhousewhereheaskedforalodging，presenteditselfinthelightofanewandhighlyamusingpieceofexperience。Hewentonwithhiscarpet—baginhishand，applyingforabedateveryplaceofentertainmentfortravelersthathecouldfindinDoncaster，untilhewanderedintotheoutskirtsofthetown。
　　Bythistimethelastglimmeroftwilighthadfadedout，themoonwasrisingdimlyinamist，thewindwasgettingcold，thecloudsweregatheringheavily，andtherewaseveryprospectthatitwassoongoingtorain！
　　ThelookofthenighthadratheraloweringeffectonyoungHolliday’sspirits。Hebegantocontemplatethehouselesssituationinwhichhewasplacedfromtheseriousratherthanthehumorouspointofview，andhelookedabouthimforanotherpublichousetoinquireatwithsomethingverylikedownrightanxietyinhismindonthesubjectofalodgingforthenight。
　　Thesuburbanpartofthetowntowardwhichhehadnowstrayedwashardlylightedatall，andhecouldseenothingofthehousesashepassedthem，exceptthattheygotprogressivelysmalleranddirtierthefurtherhewent。Downthewindingroadbeforehimshonethedullgleamofanoillamp，theonefaintlonelylightthatstruggledineffectuallywiththefoggydarknessallroundhim。Heresolvedtogoonasfarasthislamp，andthen，ifitshowedhimnothingintheshapeofaninn，toreturntothecentralpartofthetown，andtotryifhecouldnotatleastsecureachairtositdownonthroughthenightatoneoftheprincipalhotels。
　　Ashegotnearthelampheheardvoices，and，walkingcloseunderit，foundthatitlightedtheentrancetoanarrowcourt，onthewallofwhichwaspaintedalonghandinfadedflesh—color，pointing，withaleanforefinger，tothisinscription：
　　THETWOROBINS。
　　ArthurturnedintothecourtwithouthesitationtoseewhatTheTwoRobinscoulddoforhim。Fourorfivemenwerestandingtogetherroundthedoorofthehouse，whichwasatthebottomofthecourt，facingtheentrancefromthestreet。Themenwerealllisteningtooneotherman，betterdressedthantherest，whowastellinghisaudiencesomething，inalowvoice，inwhichtheywereapparentlyverymuchinterested。
　　Onenteringthepassage，Arthurwaspassedbyastrangerwithaknapsackinhishand，whowasevidentlyleavingthehouse。
　　"No，"saidthetravelerwiththeknapsack，turningroundandaddressinghimselfcheerfullytoafat，sly—looking，bald—headedman，withadirtywhiteapronon，whohadfollowedhimdownthepassage，"no，Mr。Landlord，Iamnoteasilyscaredbytrifles；
　　butIdon’tmindconfessingthatIcan’tquitestand_that_。"
　　ItoccurredtoyoungHolliday，themomentheheardthesewords，thatthestrangerhadbeenaskedanexorbitantpriceforabedatTheTwoRobins，andthathewasunableorunwillingtopayit。
　　Themomenthisbackwasturned，Arthur，comfortablyconsciousofhisownwell—filledpockets，addressedhimselfinagreathurry，forfearanyotherbenightedtravelershouldslipinandforestallhim，tothesly—lookinglandlordwiththedirtyapronandthebaldhead。
　　"Ifyouhavegotabedtolet，"hesaid，"andifthatgentlemanwhohasjustgoneoutwon’tpayyourpriceforit，Iwill。"
　　TheslylandlordlookedhardatArthur。"Willyou，sir？"heasked，inameditative，doubtfulway。
　　"Nameyourprice，"saidyoungHolliday，thinkingthatthelandlord’shesitationsprangfromsomeboorishdistrustofhim。
　　"Nameyourprice，andI’llgiveyouthemoneyatonce，ifyoulike。"
　　"Areyougameforfiveshillings？"inquiredthelandlord，rubbinghisstubbydoublechinandlookingupthoughtfullyattheceilingabovehim。
　　Arthurnearlylaughedintheman’sface；but，thinkingitprudenttocontrolhimself，offeredthefiveshillingsasseriouslyashecould。Theslylandlordheldouthishand，thensuddenlydrewitbackagain。
　　"You’reactingallfairandaboveboardbyme，"hesaid，"and，beforeItakeyourmoney，I’lldothesamebyyou。Lookhere；
　　thisishowitstands。Youcanhaveabedalltoyourselfforfiveshillings，butyoucan’thavemorethanahalfshareoftheroomitstandsin。DoyouseewhatImean，younggentleman？"
　　"OfcourseIdo，"returnedArthur，alittleirritably。"Youmeanthatitisadouble—beddedroom，andthatoneofthebedsisoccupied？"
　　Thelandlordnoddedhishead，andrubbedhisdoublechinharderthanever。Arthurhesitated，andmechanicallymovedbackasteportwotowardthedoor。Theideaofsleepinginthesameroomwithatotalstrangerdidnotpresentanattractiveprospecttohim。Hefeltmorethanhalfinclinedtodrophisfiveshillingsintohispocketandtogooutintothestreetoncemore。
　　"Isityesorno？"askedthelandlord。"Settleitasquickasyoucan，becausethere’slotsofpeoplewantingabedatDoncasterto—nightbesidesyou。"
　　Arthurlookedtowardthecourtandheardtherainfallingheavilyinthestreetoutside。HethoughthewouldaskaquestionortwobeforeherashlydecidedonleavingtheshelterofTheTwoRobins。
　　"Whatsortofmanisitwhohasgottheotherbed？"heinquired。
　　"Isheagentleman？Imean，isheaquiet，well—behavedperson？"
　　"ThequietestmanIevercameacross，"saidthelandlord，rubbinghisfathandsstealthilyoneovertheother。"Assoberasajudge，andasregularasclock—workinhishabits。Ithasn’tstrucknine，nottenminutesago，andhe’sinhisbedalready。I
　　don’tknowwhetherthatcomesuptoyournotionofaquietman：
　　itgoesalongwayaheadofmine，Icantellyou。"
　　"Isheasleep，doyouthink？"askedArthur。
　　"Iknowhe’sasleep，"returnedthelandlord；"and，what’smore，he’sgoneoffsofastthatI’llwarrantyoudon’twakehim。Thisway，sir，"saidthelandlord，speakingoveryoungHolliday’sshoulder，asifhewasaddressingsomenewguestwhowasapproachingthehouse。
　　"Hereyouare，"saidArthur，determinedtobebeforehandwiththestranger，whoeverhemightbe。"I’lltakethebed。"Andhehandedthefiveshillingstothelandlord，whonodded，droppedthemoneycarelesslyintohiswaistcoatpocket，andlightedacandle。
　　"Comeupandseetheroom，"saidthehostofTheTwoRobins，leadingthewaytothestaircasequitebriskly，consideringhowfathewas。
　　Theymountedtothesecondfloorofthehouse。Thelandlordhalfopenedadoorfrontingthelanding，thenstopped，andturnedroundtoArthur。
　　"It’safairbargain，mind，onmysideaswellasonyours，"hesaid。"Yougivemefiveshillings，andIgiveyouinreturnaclean，comfortablebed；andIwarrant，beforehand，thatyouwon’tbeinterferedwith，orannoyedinanyway，bythemanwhosleepsinthesameroomwithyou。"Sayingthosewords，helookedhard，foramoment，inyoungHolliday’sface，andthenledthewayintotheroom。
　　ItwaslargerandcleanerthanArthurhadexpecteditwouldbe。
　　Thetwobedsstoodparallelwitheachother，aspaceofaboutsixfeetinterveningbetweenthem。Theywerebothofthesamemediumsize，andbothhadthesameplainwhitecurtains，madetodraw，ifnecessary，allroundthem。
　　Theoccupiedbedwasthebednearestthewindow。Thecurtainswerealldrawnrounditexceptthehalfcurtainatthebottom，onthesideofthebedfurthestfromthewindow。Arthursawthefeetofthesleepingmanraisingthescantyclothesintoasharplittleeminence，asifhewaslyingflatonhisback。Hetookthecandle，andadvancedsoftlytodrawthecurtain——stoppedhalfway，andlistenedforamoment——thenturnedtothelandlord。
　　"Heisaveryquietsleeper，"saidArthur。"Yes，"saidthelandlord，"veryquiet。"YoungHollidayadvancedwiththecandle，andlookedinatthemancautiously。
　　"Howpaleheis，"saidArthur。
　　"Yes，"returnedthelandlord，"paleenough，isn’the？"
　　Arthurlookedcloserattheman。Thebedclothesweredrawnuptohischin，andtheylayperfectlystillovertheregionofhischest。Surprisedandvaguelystartledashenoticedthis，Arthurstoopeddowncloseroverthestranger，lookedathisashy，partedlips，listenedbreathlesslyforaninstant，lookedagainatthestrangelystillface，andthemotionlesslipsandchest，andturnedroundsuddenlyonthelandlordwithhisowncheeksaspaleforthemomentasthehollowcheeksofthemanonthebed。
　　"Comehere，"hewhispered，underhisbreath。"Comehere，forGod’ssake！Theman’snotasleep——heisdead。"
　　"YouhavefoundthatoutsoonerthanIthoughtyouwould，"saidthelandlord，composedly。"Yes，he’sdead，sureenough。Hediedatfiveo’clockto—day。"
　　"Howdidhedie？Whoishe？"askedArthur，staggeredforthemomentbytheaudaciouscoolnessoftheanswer。
　　"Astowhoishe，"rejoinedthelandlord，"Iknownomoreabouthimthanyoudo。Therearehisbooks，andletters，andthingsallsealedupinthatbrownpaperparcelforthecoroner’sinquesttoopento—morrowornextday。He’sbeenhereaweek，payinghiswayfairlyenough，andstoppingindoors，forthemostpart，asifhewasailing。Mygirlbroughthimuphisteaatfiveto—day，andashewaspouringofitout，hefelldowninafaint，orafit，oracompoundofboth，foranythingIknow。Wecouldn’tbringhimto，andIsaidhewasdead。And，thedoctorcouldn’tbringhimto，andthedoctorsaidhewasdead。Andthereheis。Andthecoroner’sinquest’scomingassoonasitcan。Andthat’sasmuchasIknowaboutit。"
　　Arthurheldthecandleclosetotheman’slips。Theflamestillburnedstraightupassteadilyasever。Therewasamomentofsilence，andtherainpattereddrearilythroughitagainstthepanesofthewindow。
　　"Ifyouhaven’tgotnothingmoretosaytome，"continuedthelandlord，"IsupposeImaygo。Youdon’texpectyourfiveshillingsback，doyou？There’sthebedIpromisedyou，cleanandcomfortable。There’sthemanIwarrantednottodisturbyou，quietinthisworldforever。Ifyou’refrightenedtostopalonewithhim，that’snotmylookout。I’vekeptmypartofthebargain，andImeantokeepthemoney。I’mnotYorkshiremyself，younggentleman，butI’velivedlongenoughinthesepartstohavemywitssharpened，andIshouldn’twonderifyoufoundoutthewaytobrightenupyoursnexttimeyoucomeamongus。"
　　Withthesewordsthelandlordturnedtowardthedoor，andlaughedtohimselfsoftly，inhighsatisfactionathisownsharpness。
　　Startledandshockedashewas，Arthurhadbythistimesufficientlyrecoveredhimselftofeelindignantatthetrickthathadbeenplayedonhim，andattheinsolentmannerinwhichthelandlordexultedinit。
　　"Don’tlaugh，"hesaidsharply，"tillyouarequitesureyouhavegotthelaughagainstme。Youshan’thavethefiveshillingsfornothing，myman。I’llkeepthebed。"
　　"Willyou？"saidthelandlord。"ThenIwishyouagoodnight’srest。"Withthatbrieffarewellhewentoutandshutthedoorafterhim。
　　Agoodnight’srest！Thewordshadhardlybeenspoken，thedoorhadhardlybeenclosed，beforeArthurhalfrepentedthehastywordsthathadjustescapedhim。Thoughnotnaturallyover—sensitive，andnotwantingincourageofthemoralaswellasthephysicalsort，thepresenceofthedeadmanhadaninstantaneouslychillingeffectonhismindwhenhefoundhimselfaloneintheroom——alone，andboundbyhisownrashwordstostaytheretillthenextmorning。Anoldermanwouldhavethoughtnothingofthosewords，andwouldhaveacted，withoutreferencetothem，ashiscalmersensesuggested。ButArthurwastooyoungtotreattheridiculeevenofhisinferiorswithcontempt——tooyoungnottofearthemomentaryhumiliationoffalsifyinghisownfoolishboastmorethanhefearedthetrialofwatchingoutthelongnightinthesamechamberwiththedead。
　　"Itisbutafewhours，"hethoughttohimself，"andIcangetawaythefirstthinginthemorning。"
　　Hewaslookingtowardtheoccupiedbedasthatideapassedthroughhismind，andthesharp，angulareminencemadeintheclothesbythedeadman’supturnedfeetagaincaughthiseye。Headvancedanddrewthecurtains，purposelyabstaining，ashedidso，fromlookingatthefaceofthecorpse，lesthemightunnervehimselfattheoutsetbyfasteningsomeghastlyimpressionofitonhismind。Hedrewthecurtainverygently，andsighedinvoluntarilyasheclosedit。
　　"Poorfellow，"hesaid，almostassadlyasifhehadknowntheman。"Ah！poorfellow！"
　　Hewentnexttothewindow。Thenightwasblack，andhecouldseenothingfromit。Therainstillpatteredheavilyagainsttheglass。Heinferred，fromhearingit，thatthewindowwasatthebackofthehouse，rememberingthatthefrontwasshelteredfromtheweatherbythecourtandthebuildingsoverit。
　　Whilehewasstillstandingatthewindow——foreventhedrearyrainwasarelief，becauseofthesounditmade；arelief，also，becauseitmoved，andhadsomefaintsuggestion，inconsequence，oflifeandcompanionshipinit——whilehewasstandingatthewindow，andlookingvacantlyintotheblackdarknessoutside，heheardadistantchurchclockstriketen。Onlyten！Howwashetopassthetimetillthehousewasastirthenextmorning？
　　Underanyothercircumstanceshewouldhavegonedowntothepublic—houseparlor，wouldhavecalledforhisgrog，andwouldhavelaughedandtalkedwiththecompanyassembledasfamiliarlyasifhehadknownthemallhislife。Buttheverythoughtofwhilingawaythetimeinthismannerwasnowdistastefultohim。
　　Thenewsituationinwhichhewasplacedseemedtohavealteredhimtohimselfalready。Thusfarhislifehadbeenthecommon，trifling，prosaic，surface—lifeofaprosperousyoungman，withnotroublestoconquerandnotrialstoface。Hehadlostnorelationwhomheloved，nofriendwhomhetreasured。Tillthisnight，whatsharehehadoftheimmortalinheritancethatisdividedamongusallhadlaindormantwithinhim。Tillthisnight，Deathandhehadnotoncemet，eveninthought。
　　Hetookafewturnsupanddowntheroom，thenstopped。Thenoisemadebyhisbootsonthepoorly—carpetedfloorjarredonhisear。
　　Hehesitatedalittle，andendedbytakingthebootsoff，andwalkingbackwardandforwardnoiselessly。
　　Alldesiretosleeportoresthadlefthim。Thebarethoughtoflyingdownontheunoccupiedbedinstantlydrewthepictureonhismindofadreadfulmimicryofthepositionofthedeadman。
　　Whowashe？Whatwasthestoryofhispastlife？Poorhemusthavebeen，orhewouldnothavestoppedatsuchaplaceastheTwoRobinsInn；andweakened，probably，bylongillness，orhecouldhardlyhavediedinthemannerwhichthelandlordhaddescribed。Poor，ill，lonely——deadinastrangeplace——dead，withnobodybutastrangertopityhim。Asadstory；truly，onthemerefaceofit，averysadstory。
　　Whilethesethoughtswerepassingthroughhismind，hehadstoppedinsensiblyatthewindow，closetowhichstoodthefootofthebedwiththeclosedcurtains。Atfirsthelookedatitabsently；thenhebecameconsciousthathiseyeswerefixedonit；andthenaperversedesiretookpossessionofhimtodotheverythingwhichhehadresolvednottodouptothistime——tolookatthedeadman。
　　Hestretchedouthishandtowardthecurtains，butcheckedhimselfintheveryactofundrawingthem，turnedhisbacksharplyonthebed，andwalkedtowardthechimney—piece，toseewhatthingswereplacedonit，andtotryifhecouldkeepthedeadmanoutofhismindinthatway。
　　Therewasapewterinkstandonthechimney—piece，withsomemildewedremainsofinkinthebottle。Thereweretwocoarsechinaornamentsofthecommonestkind；andtherewasasquareofembossedcard，dirtyandfly—blown，withacollectionofwretchedriddlesprintedonit，inallsortsofzigzagdirections，andinvariouslycoloredinks。Hetookthecardandwentawaytoreaditatthetableonwhichthecandlewasplaced，sittingdownwithhisbackresolutelyturnedtothecurtainedbed。
　　Hereadthefirstriddle，thesecond，thethird，allinonecornerofthecard，thenturneditroundimpatientlytolookatanother。Beforehecouldbeginreadingtheriddlesprintedherethesoundofthechurchclockstoppedhim。
　　Eleven。
　　Hehadgotthroughanhourofthetimeintheroomwiththedeadman。
　　Oncemorehelookedatthecard。Itwasnoteasytomakeoutthelettersprintedonitinconsequenceofthedimnessofthelightwhichthelandlordhadlefthim——acommontallowcandle，furnishedwithapairofheavyold—fashionedsteelsnuffers。Uptothistimehismindhadbeentoomuchoccupiedtothinkofthelight。Hehadleftthewickofthecandleunsnuffedtillithadrisenhigherthantheflame，andhadburnedintoanoddpent—houseshapeatthetop，fromwhichmorselsofthecharredcottonfellofffromtimetotimeinlittleflakes。Hetookupthesnuffersnowandtrimmedthewick。Thelightbrighteneddirectly，andtheroombecamelessdismal。
　　Againheturnedtotheriddles，readingthemdoggedlyandresolutely，nowinonecornerofthecard，nowinanother。Allhisefforts，however，couldnotfixhisattentiononthem。Hepursuedhisoccupationmechanically，derivingnosortofimpressionfromwhathewasreading。Itwasasifashadowfromthecurtainedbedhadgotbetweenhismindandthegaylyprintedletters——ashadowthatnothingcoulddispel。Atlasthegaveupthestruggle，threwthecardfromhimimpatiently，andtooktowalkingsoftlyupanddowntheroomagain。
　　Thedeadman，thedeadman，the_hidden_deadmanonthebed！
　　Therewastheonepersistentideastillhauntinghim。Hidden！Wasitonlythebodybeingthere，orwasitthebodybeingthere_concealed，_thatwaspreyingonhismind？Hestoppedatthewindowwiththatdoubtinhim，oncemorelisteningtothepatteringrain，oncemorelookingoutintotheblackdarkness。
　　Stillthedeadman！
　　Thedarknessforcedhismindbackuponitself，andsethismemoryatwork，revivingwithapainfullyvividdistinctnessthemomentaryimpressionithadreceivedfromhisfirstsightofthecorpse。Beforelongthefaceseemedtobehoveringoutinthemiddleofthedarkness，confrontinghimthroughthewindow，withthepalenesswhiter——withthedreadfuldulllineoflightbetweentheimperfectly—closedeyelidsbroaderthanhehadseenit——withthepartedlipsslowlydroppingfurtherandfurtherawayfromeachother——withthefeaturesgrowinglargerandmovingcloser，tilltheyseemedtofillthewindow，andtosilencetherain，andtoshutoutthenight。
　　Thesoundofavoiceshoutingbelowstairswokehimsuddenlyfromthedreamofhisowndistemperedfancy。Herecognizeditasthevoiceofthelandlord。
　　"Shutupattwelve，Ben，"hehearditsay。"I’mofftobed。"
　　Hewipedawaythedampthathadgatheredonhisforehead，reasonedwithhimselfforalittlewhile，andresolvedtoshakehismindfreeoftheghastlycounterfeitwhichstillclungtoitbyforcinghimselftoconfront，ifitwasonlyforamoment，thesolemnreality。Withoutallowinghimselfaninstanttohesitate，hepartedthecurtainsatthefootofthebed，andlookedthrough。
　　Therewasthesad，peaceful，whiteface，withtheawfulmysteryofstillnessonit，laidbackuponthepillow。Nostir，nochangethere！Heonlylookedatitforamomentbeforeheclosedthecurtainsagain，butthatmomentsteadiedhim，calmedhim，restoredhim——mindandbody——tohimself。Hereturnedtohisoldoccupationofwalkingupanddowntheroom，perseveringinitthistimetilltheclockstruckagain。
　　Twelve。
　　Asthesoundoftheclock—belldiedaway，itwassucceededbytheconfusednoisedownstairsofthedrinkersinthetaproomleavingthehouse。Thenextsound，afteranintervalofsilence，wascausedbythebarringofthedoorandtheclosingoftheshuttersatthebackoftheinn。Thenthesilencefollowedagain，andwasdisturbednomore。
　　Hewasalonenow——absolutely，hopelesslyalonewiththedeadmantillthenextmorning。
　　Thewickofthecandlewantedtrimmingagain。Hetookupthesnuffers，butpausedsuddenlyontheverypointofusingthem，andlookedattentivelyatthecandle——thenback，overhisshoulder，atthecurtainedbed——thenagainatthecandle。Ithadbeenlightedforthefirsttimetoshowhimthewayupstairs，andthreepartsofit，atleast，werealreadyconsumed。Inanotherhouritwouldbeburnedout。Inanotherhour，unlesshecalledatoncetothemanwhohadshutuptheinnforafreshcandle，hewouldbeleftinthedark。
　　Stronglyashismindhadbeenaffectedsincehehadenteredtheroom，hisunreasonabledreadofencounteringridiculeandofexposinghiscouragetosuspicionhadnotaltogetherlostitsinfluenceoverhimevenyet。
　　Helingeredirresolutelybythetable，waitingtillhecouldprevailonhimselftoopenthedoor，andcallfromthelanding，tothemanwhohadshutuptheinn。Inhispresenthesitatingframeofmind，itwasakindofrelieftogainafewmomentsonlybyengaginginthetriflingoccupationofsnuffingthecandle。
　　Hishandtrembledalittle，andthesnufferswereheavyandawkwardtouse。Whenheclosedthemonthewick，heclosedthemahair—breadthtoolow。Inaninstantthecandlewasout，andtheroomwasplungedinpitchdarkness。
　　Theoneimpressionwhichtheabsenceoflightimmediatelyproducedonhismindwasdistrustofthecurtainedbed——distrustwhichshapeditselfintonodistinctidea，butwhichwaspowerfulenough，initsveryvagueness，tobindhimdowntohischair，tomakehisheartbeatfast，andtosethimlisteningintently。Nosoundstirredintheroom，butthefamiliarsoundoftherainagainstthewindow，louderandsharpernowthanhehadheardityet。
　　Stillthevaguedistrust，theinexpressibledreadpossessedhim，andkepthiminhischair。Hehadputhiscarpet—bagonthetablewhenhefirstenteredtheroom，andhenowtookthekeyfromhispocket，reachedouthishandsoftly，openedthebag，andgropedinitforhistravelingwriting—case，inwhichheknewthattherewasasmallstoreofmatches。Whenhehadgotoneofthematcheshewaitedbeforehestruckitonthecoarsewoodentable，andlistenedintentlyagainwithoutknowingwhy。Stilltherewasnosoundintheroombutthesteady，ceaselessrattlingsoundoftherain。
　　Helightedthecandleagainwithoutanothermomentofdelay，and，ontheinstantofitsburningup，thefirstobjectintheroomthathiseyessoughtforwasthecurtainedbed。
　　Justbeforethelighthadbeenputouthehadlookedinthatdirection，andhadseennochange，nodisarrangementofanysortinthefoldsoftheclosely—drawncurtains。
　　Whenhelookedatthebednow，hesawhangingoverthesideofitalongwhitehand。
　　Itlayperfectlymotionlessmidwayonthesideofthebed，wherethecurtainattheheadandthecurtainatthefootmet。Nothingmorewasvisible。Theclingingcurtainshideverythingbutthelongwhitehand。
　　Hestoodlookingatit，unabletostir，unabletocallout——feelingnothing，knowingnothing——everyfacultyhepossessedgatheredupandlostintheoneseeingfaculty。Howlongthatfirstpanicheldhimhenevercouldtellafterward。Itmighthavebeenonlyforamoment——itmighthavebeenformanyminutestogether。Howhegottothebed——whetherherantoitheadlong，orwhetherheapproacheditslowly；howhewroughthimselfuptounclosethecurtainsandlookin，heneverhasremembered，andneverwillremembertohisdyingday。Itisenoughthathedidgotothebed，andthathedidlookinsidethecurtains。
　　Themanhadmoved。Oneofhisarmswasoutsidetheclothes；hisfacewasturnedalittleonthepillow；hiseyelidswerewideopen。Changedastopositionandastooneofthefeatures，thefacewasotherwisefearfullyandwonderfullyunaltered。Thedeadpalenessandthedeadquietwereonitstill。
　　OneglanceshowedArthurthis——oneglancebeforeheflewbreathlesslytothedoorandalarmedthehouse。
　　Themanwhomthelandlordcalled"Ben"wasthefirsttoappearonthestairs。InthreewordsArthurtoldhimwhathadhappened，andsenthimforthenearestdoctor。
　　I，whotellyouthisstory，wasthenstayingwithamedicalfriendofmine，inpracticeatDoncaster，takingcareofhispatientsforhimduringhisabsenceinLondon；andI，forthetimebeing，wasthenearestdoctor。Theyhadsentformefromtheinnwhenthestrangerwastakenillintheafternoon，butIwasnotathome，andmedicalassistancewassoughtforelsewhere。
　　WhenthemanfromTheTwoRobinsrangthenight—bell，Iwasjustthinkingofgoingtobed。Naturallyenough，Ididnotbelieveawordofhisstoryabout"adeadmanwhohadcometolifeagain。"
　　However，Iputonmyhat，armedmyselfwithoneortwobottlesofrestorativemedicine，andrantotheinn，expectingtofindnothingmoreremarkable，whenIgotthere，thanapatientinafit。
　　Mysurpriseatfindingthatthemanhadspokentheliteraltruthwasalmost，ifnotquite，equaledbymyastonishmentatfindingmyselffacetofacewithArthurHollidayassoonasIenteredthebedroom。Itwasnotimethenforgivingorseekingexplanations。
　　Wejustshookhandsamazedly，andthenIorderedeverybodybutArthuroutoftheroom，andhurriedtothemanonthebed。
　　Thekitchenfirehadnotbeenlongout。Therewasplentyofhotwaterintheboiler，andplentyofflanneltobehad。Withthese，withmymedicines，andwithsuchhelpasArthurcouldrenderundermydirection，Idraggedthemanliterallyoutofthejawsofdeath。InlessthananhourfromthetimewhenIhadbeencalledin，hewasaliveandtalkinginthebedonwhichhehadbeenlaidouttowaitforthecoroner’sinquest。
　　Youwillnaturallyaskmewhathadbeenthematterwithhim，andImighttreatyou，inreply，toalongtheory，plentifullysprinkledwithwhatthechildrencallhardwords。Iprefertellingyouthat，inthiscase，causeandeffectcouldnotbesatisfactorilyjoinedtogetherbyanytheorywhatever。Therearemysteriesinlifeandtheconditionsofitwhichhumansciencehasnotfathomedyet；andIcandidlyconfesstoyouthat，inbringingthatmanbacktoexistence，Iwas，morallyspeaking，gropinghaphazardinthedark。Iknow（fromthetestimonyofthedoctorwhoattendedhimintheafternoon）thatthevitalmachinery，sofarasitsactionisappreciablebyoursenses，had，inthiscase，unquestionablystopped，andIamequallycertain（seeingthatIrecoveredhim）thatthevitalprinciplewasnotextinct。WhenIaddthathehadsufferedfromalongandcomplicatedillness，andthathiswholenervoussystemwasutterlyderanged，IhavetoldyouallIreallyknowofthephysicalconditionofmydead—alivepatientattheTwoRobinsInn。