nearly sickened me. The light streaming down on his eyes showed but two dull white masses, for the eyeballs had passed into the head. Driving away the cat, which had been trying to wake him from his deadly sleep, I told him to rise, and the voice that came from my lips was as that of a stranger. He moved not.

Again and again I spoke; still he sat there, like a dead thing, so that the notary who had crept in called out, Mon Dieu! you have killed him!' You can guess how that alarmed me. I sent Mons. Poncard away, and shuddering laid my hands on his forehead, then passed them to and fro, flicked my handkerchief in his face, and blew on him. Then the eyeballs slowly descended, and I feared he might have come too far round, but his vacant look reassured me. As the eyeballs came back, I felt in me a strange feeling of double consciousness, as if I had two minds in I told him to rise, and slowly the head came forward, the body straightened, the legs moved, and he got up.

me.

A strange and repulsive idea came over me that the feeling of double consciousness was true; that, in fact, his will had passed into me, and though his muscles obeyed his will, it was subordinate to mine, for it was in me, and so he seemed part of me, and I felt as if his guilt was my guilt.

This idea so shocked me that I drew back from the gigantic upright figure, the monster who seemed part of me, and ran to Mons. Poncard. He said that it was fancy, and advised me to bathe my head, which I hurriedly did. I came back feeling calmer, but in no wise relieved of my idea.

I stood opposite to him, took his cold dead hand in mine, and said, 'Do you remember the 3rd of February?' Slowly the jaw opened, and in a harsh, colourless voice came the word 'Yes.' Tell me what you did that day.' In so blundering a way did he begin to speak, and so fiercely did he struggle to keep silent (I felt the struggle, for it seemed to take place in me), that I began to fear I should get no account from him.

Ask him questions only requiring "yes" or "no," "' said the notary. How his voice startled me! for I had become so absorbed in my victim as to have forgotten him.

'Did you quarrel with Mons. Dumont?' 'Yes.' 'About cards?' 'Yes.' 'You owed him money?' 'Yes.' 'Was that all?' 'No.'

'Did he find you out in cheating, you scoundrel ?' called out the notary. No answer. Again and again came the question. No answer.

Every one of my questions had been echoed in my breast, and in me was a fierce fight of my will to make him answer, and his to

resist. The notary's question I only seemed to hear with my ears, and there was no mental echo.

Then I put the question, and got the answer 'Yes.' Slowly I dragged out the horrid tale, till I came to the question, ‘Did you cut his throat?' Then came so fierce a struggle in me that I began to fear failure, and faint and exhausted I sank down on a chair. After ten minutes' rest I began again with greater strength, and made him confess.

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We then came to the most important questions, Had he destroyed the locket?' No. Was it in the house?' 6 No. 'Where was it?' It was in vain that at first I tried to get an answer, but after a rest I put the question, and there came the words as if torn out of his and my heart, 'Under a stone at Carnac.'

Mons. Poncard and I gazed at one another nearly stupefied. This was the cause of his interest in Carnac ; this explained his long late walks. In vain did I try to get from him an intelligible explanation of the position of the stone; he fought every question, and was aided by the fact that it was a difficult thing to explain. At last, wearied and despairing, I gave up the task. What was to be done? We could not convict on a confession so strangely obtained without any corroborative evidence, and a confession which would surely be denied. To dig up the 1,500 stones would be a herculean task; probably it would not be allowed; and even if it were, he could not be kept under arrest the while. For some time we thought in vain.

Suddenly I said, 'Let us take him to Carnac with us now, and make him show us the stone.'

Straightway we went to his stable, and put his black English mare in the dog-cart. Mons. Poncard got up behind; I took the reins, and made the murderer sit beside me.

Off we went. What a drive! through the wild windy night, now almost light as day, and now almost pitch-dark, as the black clouds, fast driven by the howling wind, passed in front of the full moon and then fled on again; drawn by the restless mare, sitting in contact with the unconscious monster whose will was now so strangely and horribly tied up in mine.

Rapidly we drove till the mare, who seemed frightened by the wind, bolted. On we rushed, passing Plouharnel, flying ourselves like the wind; till suddenly the notary shrieked through the storm, 'The wind will be driving the sea over the peninsula! we are lost! give her the reins.' Almost at once the mare knew her master's hand, and quickly did his great strength stop her; then we turned back, came to Plouharnel, and turned to the left down the road to Carnac. Three parts of the way had we gone when he pulled up

and got down. Silently we followed. He fastened up the mare and turned to the left. His mind seemed to have changed, and instead of opposing me I felt that he had a wild desire, stronger than my own, to see the locket.

Over the glorious red heather he strode, so fast that we had to half run to keep up with him, crushing the beautiful blue gentians which with the red heather make the glorious carpet of the moor; neither to right nor left, nor up nor down, did he look, yet he avoided the stones and holes; over the wall of the wild farm three parts of a mile from Carnac Church he leaped, always looking on, as if drawn to his doom by some invisible rope.

At the end of some minutes we came to a solitary dolmenthree large stones standing as if upside down, and supporting a fourth. Here he stopped suddenly, and I felt that his desire to see the locket was gone. I stooped down, entered, and turned my lamp's light on the ground. No sign of earth disturbance. Then I gazed on him and bade him find the locket. He pushed me aside, crept in, put his right hand against one side of the roofstone and pushed it slowly up, then stretched his left hand across in front of his face, felt in a hole in the supporting stone, took out something, and dropped the roof.

Half a minute he crouched there before my excitement would let me call him out. Slowly he came, and there, as I turned the light on his hand, I saw the locket! Then came a mad idea to me to wake him to show him his detection. Awake, monster,' I cried, and see your fate!' Then I flashed the light in his face. Slowly a great weight seemed lifted off my heart, and the life came back to his eyes. For a moment he was dazed, then his eyes fell on the locket; with a yell he leaped forward, knocked me yards away, drew his pistols and fired at each of us. The false cartridges saved us. Seeing us unwounded he turned and fled; after him we ran as fast as we could. Fast though we ran he gained easily, so we stopped and fired, but in vain. Apparently accustomed to leave his dog-cart in the place in which we had left it, he ran straight towards the spot; he had gained 300 yards and seemed to have escaped, when suddenly he fell, and a fearful oath rang out.

Fearing some trick, we reloaded our pistols and ran up. There he lay screaming and cursing, his ankle broken: he had caught his foot in a hole and fallen heavily. Threatening him with our pistols, we handcuffed him and took the locket away. Startled by the pistol-shots, a peasant had come from the neighbouring farm, and with his aid we carried him back to the dog-cart and drove into the town.

The excitement caused was tremendous, so great that even

Paris for some days talked of nothing else, and I found myself famous. The trial was attended by every one of fashion, and, in accordance with the public interest rather than its difficulty, lasted several days. The last day was certainly exciting. Le Theuff, who had been fighting the evidence, finding the case hopeless, gave a minute confession in court. He explained that, rejected in a dishonourable suit by Madame Dumont, and fearing exposure of his dishonest play by her husband, he had resolved to murder the banker and throw the suspicion on the friend. He gave a full account of the way the deed was done, and concluded with a charitable wish for a private interview with me. The jury found him guilty, and next day the jailer found him dead: he had taken poison. The widow did not long resist my client's suit; on the wedding day Mons. Goudin gave me a cheque for twice the sum he had promised. The name the case earned for me brought so many clients that my position soon became too good for it to be necessary for me to engage in any more of such desperate enterprises.

E. F. SPENCE.

6.66

Happy is the man that hath his quiver full of them." So say I; but then don't let him discharge his quiver upon us that are weaponless; let them be arrows, but not to gall and stick us.'-ELIA.

I THINK it's cowardly, too,' said Norah, who held some strong opinions, and expressed them strongly on provocation. The provocation in the present instance came from Carrie, who was ridiculing Norah's objection to coursing-the amusement proposed for the day by Mr. Summers. It was Monday morning, breakfast was over, and Mr. Summers, standing upon the hearthrug, had some time before suggested that not only Miles and his son, but his daughters and Norah, should spend a pleasant morning in watching a hare hunted to death in the neighbourhood. Carrie was in high delight at the prospect, because she liked to see not only the hunt, but the hunters; perhaps, Mr. Chillingham among the rest. She described with great spirit to Norah the last hunt she had attended, in which, she said, 'the hare was run to a jelly.' Whereupon Norah mildly remarked that she thought it very

cruel.'

'Then of course you won't come to-day,' said Carrie sarcastically, thinking Norah's comment cant, and never imagining for a moment that she could decline such a treat.

'No, thank you.'

'Do you really mean to stay at home?' incredulously.
'Yes; if you don't mind.'

'What a ridiculous notion!' cried Carrie derisively.

'But it is cruel,' repeated Norah, nettled a little by Carrie's offensive tone, and I think it's cowardly too.'

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VOL. LIII. NO. CCX I.

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