attempting to read the inscrutable countenance of Etwald. As for this latter, he sat smoking, with his brilliant eyes steadily fixed upon Maurice. The young man felt uneasy under the mesmeric gaze of the doctor, and kept twisting and turning in his seat. Finally he broke out impatiently in the midst of the major's babble, and asked Etwald a direct question.

"Does my face remind you of anyone?" he demanded rather sharply.

"Yes, Mr. Alymer," replied Etwald, deliberately, "it reminds me of a man who died."

"Dear me!" said Jen, with a sympathetic look.

"Was he a friend of yours, doctor?"

"Well, no, major, I can't say that he was. In fact," added Etwald, with the air of a man making a simple statement, "I hated him!"

"I hope you don't hate me?" said Maurice, rather annoyed.

"No, Mr. Alymer, I don't hate you," replied the doctor, in a colorless tone. "Do you believe in palmistry?" he asked, suddenly.

"No!" said Maurice, promptly,

"All rubbish!" added the major, selecting a fresh cigar.

"What do you say, Mr. Sarby?" asked Etwald, turning to the lawyer.

"I am a skeptic, also," said David, with a laugh. "And you?"

"I am a believer."

Here Etwald rose and crossed over to where Maurice was sitting. The young man, guessing his errand, held out his left hand with a smile. Etwald scrutinized it closely, and returned to his seat.

"Life in death!" he said calmly. "Read that riddle, Mr. Alymer. Life in death."

 

 

 

 

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