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EVERY night in the year, four of us sat in the small parlour of the George at Debenhamthe undertaker,

and the landlord, and Fettes, and myself. Sometimes there would be more; but blow high, blow low, come

rain or snow or frost, we four would be each planted in his own particular armchair. Fettes was an old

drunken Scotchman, a man of education obviously, and a man of some property, since he lived in idleness.

He had come to Debenham years ago, while still young, and by a mere continuance of living had grown to be

an adopted townsman. His blue camlet cloak was a local antiquity, like the churchspire. His place in the

parlour at the George, his absence from church, his old, crapulous, disreputable vices, were all things of

course in Debenham. He had some vague Radical opinions and some fleeting infidelities, which he would

now and again set forth and emphasise with tottering slaps upon the table. He drank rumfive glasses

regularly every evening; and for the greater portion of his nightly visit to the George sat, with his glass in his

right hand, in a state of melancholy alcoholic saturation. We called him the Doctor, for he was supposed to

have some special knowledge of medicine, and had been known, upon a pinch, to set a fracture or reduce a

dislocation; but beyond these slight particulars, we had no knowledge of his character and antecedents.

One dark winter nightit had struck nine some time before the landlord joined usthere was a sick man in

the George, a great neighbouring proprietor suddenly struck down with apoplexy on his way to Parliament;

and the great man's still greater London doctor had been telegraphed to his bedside. It was the first time that

such a thing had happened in Debenham, for the railway was but newly open, and we were all

Fettes was far through his third tumblers stupidly fuddled, now nodding over, now staring mazily around

him; but at the last word he seemed to awaken, and repeated the name "Macfarlane" twice, quietly enough the

Fettes became instantly sober; his eyes awoke, his voice became clear, loud, and steady, his language forcible

and earnest. We were all startled by the transformation, as if a man had risen from the dead.

"I beg your pardon," he said. "I am afraid I have not been paying much attention to your talk. Who is this

Wolfe Macfarlane?" And then, when he had heard the landlord out, "It cannot be, it cannot be," he added;

"God forbid!" was the reply. "And yet the name is a strange one; it were too much to fancy two. Tell me,

"Well," said the host, "he's not a young man, to be sure, and his hair is white; but he looks younger than you."

"He is older, though; years older. But," with a slap upon the table, "it's the rum you see in my facerum and

sin. This man, perhaps, may have an easy conscience and a good digestion. Conscience! Hear me speak. You

would think I was some good, old, decent Christian, would you not? But no, not I; I never canted. Voltaire

might have canted if he'd stood in my shoes; but the brains"with a rattling fillip on his bald head"the

"If you know this doctor," I ventured to remark, after a somewhat awful pause, "I should gather that you do

There was another pause, and then a door was closed rather sharply on the first floor, and a step was heard

It was but two steps from the small parlour to the door of the old George Inn; the wide oak staircase landed

almost in the street; there was room for a Turkey rug and nothing more between the threshold and the last

round of the descent; but this little space was every evening brilliantly lit up, not only by the light upon the

stair and the great signallamp below the sign, but by the warm radiance of the barroom window. The George

thus brightly advertised itself to passersby in the cold street. Fettes walked steadily to the spot, and we, who

were hanging behind, beheld the two men meet, as one of them had phrased it, face to face. Dr. Macfarlane

was alert and vigorous. His white hair set off his pale and placid, although energetic, countenance. He was

richly dressed in the finest of broadcloth and the whitest of linen, with a great gold watchchain, and studs

and spectacles of the same precious material. He wore a broadfolded tie, white and speckled with lilac, and

he carried on his arm a comfortable drivingcoat of fur. There was no doubt but he became his years,

breathing, as he did, of wealth and consideration; and it was a surprising contrast to see our parlour

sotbald, dirty, pimpled, and robed in his old camlet cloakconfront him at the bottom of the stairs.

The great doctor pulled up short on the fourth step, as though the familiarity of the address surprised and

The London man almost staggered. He stared for the swiftest of seconds at the man before him, glanced

behind him with a sort of scare, and then in a startled whisper "Fettes!" he said, "you!"

"Ay," said the other, "me! Did you think I was dead too? We are not so easy shut of our acquaintance."

"Hush, hush!" exclaimed the doctor. "Hush, hush! this meeting is so unexpectedI can see you are

unmanned I hardly knew you, I confess, at first; but I am overjoyedoverjoyed to have this opportunity. For

the present it must be howd'yedo and goodby in one, for my fly is waiting, and I must not fail the train;

but you shalllet me seeyesyou shall give me your address, and you can count on early news of me.

We must do something for you, Fettes. I fear you are out at elbows; but we must see to that for auld lang

"Money!" cried Fettes; "money from you! The money that I had from 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

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

"I do not wish itI 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.

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 yet 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

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 barroom

"God protect us, Mr. Fettes!" said the landlord, coming first into possession of his customary senses. "What

Fettes turned toward us; he looked us each in succession in the face. "See if you can hold your tongues," said

he. "That man Macfarlane is not safe to cross; those that have done so already have repented it too late."

And then, without so much as finishing his third glass, far less waiting for the other two, he bade us goodby

We three turned to our places in the parlour, with the big red fire and four clear candles; and as we

recapitulated what had passed the first chill of our surprise soon changed into a glow of curiosity. We sat late;

it was the latest session I have known in the old George. Each man, before we parted, had his theory that he

was bound to prove; and none of us had any nearer business in this world than to track out the past of our

condemned companion, and surprise the secret that he shared with the great London doctor. It is no great

boast, but I believe I was a better hand at worming out a story than either of my fellows at the George; and

perhaps there is now no other man alive who could narrate to you the following foul and unnatural events.

In his young days Fettes studied medicine in the schools of Edinburgh. He had talent of a kind, the talent that

picks up swiftly what it hears and readily retails it for its own. He worked little at home; but he was civil,

attentive, and intelligent in the presence of his masters. They soon picked him out as a lad who listened

closely and remembered well; nay, strange as it seemed to me when I first heard it, he was in those days well

favoured, and pleased by his exterior. There was, at that period, a certain extramural teacher of anatomy,

whom I shall here designate by the letter K. His name was subsequently too well known. The man who bore

it skulked through the streets of Edinburgh in disguise, while the mob that applauded at the execution of

Burke called loudly for the blood of his employer. But Mr. K was then at the top of his vogue; he

enjoyed a popularity due partly to his own talent and address, partly to the incapacity of his rival, the

university professor. The students, at least, swore by his name, and Fettes believed himself, and was believed

by others, to have laid the foundations of success when he had acquired the favour of this meteorically

famous man. Mr. K was a bon vivant as well as an accomplished teacher; he liked a sly allusion no less

than a careful preparation. In both capacities Fettes enjoyed and deserved his notice, and by the second year

of his attendance he held the halfregular position of second demonstrator or subassistant in his class.

In this capacity, the charge of the theatre and lecturerdom devolved in particular upon his shoulders. He had

to answer for the cleanliness of the premises and the conduct of the other students, and it was a part of his

duty to supply, receive, and divide the various subjects. It was with a view to this lastat that time very

delicate affair that he was lodged by Mr. K in the same wynd, and at last in the same building, with

the dissectingroom. Here, after a night of turbulent pleasures, his hand still tottering, his sight still misty and

confused, he would be called out of bed in the black hours before the winter dawn by the unclean and

desperate interlopers who supplied the table. He would open the door to these men, since infamous

throughout the land. He would help them with their tragic burden, pay them their sordid price, and remain

alone, when they were gone, with the unfriendly relics of humanity. From such a scene he would return to

snatch another hour or two of slumber, to repair the abuses of the night, and refresh himself for the labours of

Few lads could have been more insensible to the impressions of a life thus passed among the ensigns of

mortality. His mind was closed against all general considerations. He was incapable of interest in the fate and

fortunes of another, the slave of his own desires and low ambitions. Cold, light, and selfish in the last resort,

he had that modicum of prudence, miscalled morality, which keeps a man from inconvenient drunkenness or

punishable theft. He coveted, besides, a measure of consideration from his masters and his fellowpupils, and

he had no desire to fail conspicuously in the external parts of life. Thus he made it his pleasure to gain some

distinction in his studies, and day after day rendered unimpeachable eyeservice to his employer, Mr.

K. For his day of work he indemnified himself by nights of roaring, blackguardly enjoyment; and when

that balance had been struck, the organ that he called his conscience declared itself content.

The supply of subjects was a continual trouble to him as well as to his master. In that large and busy class, the

raw material of the anatomists kept perpetually running out; and the business thus rendered necessary was not

only unpleasant in itself, but threatened dangerous consequences to all who were concerned. It was the policy

of Mr. K to ask no questions in his dealings with the trade. "They bring the body, and we pay the price,"

he used to say, dwelling on the alliteration"quid pro quo." And again, and somewhat profanely, "Ask no

questions," he would tell his assistants, "for conscience sake." There was no understanding that the subjects

were provided by the crime of murder. Had that idea been broached to him in words, he would have recoiled

in horror; but the lightness of his speech upon so grave a matter was, in itself, an offence against good

manners, and a temptation to the men with whom he dealt. Fettes, for instance, had often remarked to himself

upon the singular freshness of the bodies. He had been struck again and again by the hangdog, abominable

looks of the ruffians who came to him before the dawn; and putting things together clearly in his private

thoughts, he perhaps attributed a meaning too immoral and too categorical to the unguarded counsels of his

master. He understood his duty, in short, to have three branches: to take what was brought, to pay the price,

One November morning this policy of silence was put sharply to the test. He had been awake all night with a

racking toothachepacing his room like a caged beast or throwing himself in fury on his bedand had

fallen at last into that profound, uneasy slumber that so often follows on a night of pain, when he was

awakened by the third or fourth angry repetition of the concerted signal. There was a thin, bright moonshine;

it was bitter cold, windy, and frosty; the town had not yet awakened, but an indefinable stir already preluded

the noise and business of the day. The ghouls had come later than usual, and they seemed more than usually

eager to be gone. Fettes, sick with sleep, lighted them upstairs. He heard their grumbling Irish voices through

a dream; and as they stripped the sack from their sad merchandise he leaned dozing, with his shoulder

propped against the wall; he had to shake himself to find the men their money. As he did so his eyes lighted

"God Almighty!" he cried. "That is Jane Galbraith!" The men answered nothing, but they shuffled nearer the

"I know her, I tell you," he continued. "She was alive and hearty yesterday. It's impossible she can be dead;

But the other looked Fettes darkly in the eyes, and demanded the money on the spot.

It was impossible to misconceive the threat or to exaggerate the danger. The lad's heart failed him. He

stammered some excuses, counted out the sum, and saw his hateful visitors depart. No sooner were they gone

than he hastened to confirm his doubts. By a dozen unquestionable marks he identified the girl he had jested

with the day before. He saw, with horror, marks upon her body that might well betoken violence. A panic

seized him, and he took refuge in his room. There he reflected at length over the discovery that he had made;

considered soberly the bearing of Mr. K's instructions and the danger to himself of interference in so

serious a business, and at last, in sore perplexity, determined to wait for the advice of his immediate superior,

This was a young doctor, Wolfe Macfarlane, a high favourite among all the reckless students, clever,

dissipated, and unscrupulous to the last degree. He had travelled and studied abroad. His manners were

agreeable and a little forward. He was an authority on the stage, skilful on the ice or the links with skate or

golfclub; he dressed with nice audacity, and, to put the finishing touch upon his glory, he kept a gig and a

strong trottinghorse. With Fettes he was on terms of intimacy; indeed, their relative positions called for

some community of life; and when subjects were scarce the pair would drive far into the country in

Macfarlane's gig, visit and desecrate some lonely graveyard, and return before dawn with their booty to the

On that particular morning Macfarlane arrived somewhat earlier than his wont. Fettes heard him, and met him

on the stairs, told him his story, and showed him the cause of his alarm. Macfarlane examined the marks on

"Do?" repeated the other. "Do you want to do anything? Least said soonest mended, I should say."

"Some one else might recognise her," objected Fettes. "She was as well known as the Castle Rock."

"We'll hope not," said Macfarlane, "and if anybody doeswell, you didn't, don't you see, and there's an end.

The fact is, this has been going on too long. Stir up the mud, and you'll get K into the most unholy

trouble; you'll be in a shocking box yourself. So will I, if you come to that. I should like to know how any one

of us would look, or what the devil we should have to say for ourselves in any Christian witnessbox. For

me, you know there's one thing certainthat, practically speaking, all our subjects have been murdered."

"And proof another. Yes, I know; and I'm as sorry as you are this should have come here," tapping the body

with his cane. "The next best thing for me is not to recognise it; and," he added coolly, "I don't. You may, if

you please. I don't dictate, but I think a man of the world would do as I do; and I may add, I fancy that is what

K would look for at our hands. The question is, Why did he choose us two for his assistants? And I

This was the tone of all others to affect the mind of a lad like Fettes. He agreed to imitate Macfarlane. The

body of the unfortunate girl was duly dissected, and no one remarked or appeared to recognize her.

One afternoon, when his day's work was over, Fettes dropped into a popular tavern and found Macfarlane

sitting with a stranger. This was a small man, very pale and dark, with coalblack eyes. The cut of his

features gave a promise of intellect and refinement which was but feebly realised in his manners, for he

proved, upon a nearer acquaintance, coarse, vulgar, and stupid. He exercised, however, a very remarkable

control over Macfarlane; issued orders like the Great Bashaw; became inflamed at the least discussion or

delay, and commented rudely on the servility with which he was obeyed. This most offensive person took a

fancy to Fettes on the spot, plied him with drinks, and honoured him with unusual confidences on his past

career. If a tenth part of what he confessed were true, he was a very loathsome rogue; and the lad's vanity was

"I'm a pretty bad fellow myself," the stranger remarked, "but Macfarlane is the boyToddy Macfarlane, I

call him. Toddy, order your friend another glass." Or it might be, "Toddy, you jump up and shut the door."

"Hear him! Did you ever see the lads play knife? He would like to do that all over my body," remarked the

"We medicals have a better way than that," said Fettes. "When we dislike a dead friend of ours, we dissect

The afternoon passed. Gray, for that was the stranger's name, invited Fettes to join them at dinner, ordered a

feast so sumptuous that the tavern was thrown in commotion, and when all was done commanded Macfarlane

to settle the bill. It was late before they separated; the man Gray was incapably drunk. Macfarlane, sobered by

his fury, chewed the cud of the money he had been forced to squander and the slights he had been obliged to

swallow. Fettes, with various liquors singing in his head, returned home with devious footsteps and a mind

entirely in abeyance. Next day Macfarlane was absent from the class, and Fettes smiled to himself as he

imagined him still squiring the intolerable Gray from tavern to tavern. As soon as the hour of liberty had

struck he posted from place to place in quest of his last night's companions. He could find them, however,

nowhere; so returned early to his rooms, went early to bed, and slept the sleep of the just.

At four in the morning he was awakened by the wellknown signal. Descending to the door, he was filled

with astonishment to find Macfarlane with his gig, and in the gig one of those long and ghastly packages with

But Macfarlane silenced him roughly, bidding him turn to business. When they had got the body upstairs and

laid it on the table, Macfarlane made at first as if he were going away. Then he paused and seemed to

hesitate; and then, "You had better look at the face," said he, in tones of some constraint. "You had better," he

Fettes was staggered; strange doubts assailed him. He looked from the young doctor to the body, and then

back again. At last, with a start, he did as he was bidden. He had almost expected the sight that met his eyes,

and yet the shock was cruel. To see, fixed in the rigidity of death and naked on that coarse layer of sackcloth,

the man whom he had left well clad and full of meat and sin upon the threshold of a tavern, awoke, even in

the thoughtless Fettes, some of the terrors of the conscience. It was a cras tibi which re echoed in his soul,

that two whom he had known should have come to lie upon these icy tables. Yet these were only secondary

thoughts. His first concern regarded Wolfe. Unprepared for a challenge so momentous, he knew not how to

look his comrade in the face. He durst not meet his eye, and he had neither words nor voice at his command.

It was Macfarlane himself who made the first advance. He came up quietly behind and laid his hand gently

Now Richardson was a student who had long been anxious for that portion of the human subject to dissect.

There was no answer, and the murderer resumed: "Talking of business, you must pay me; your accounts, you

Fettes found a voice, the ghost of his own: "Pay you!" he cried. "Pay you for that?"

"Why, yes, of course you must. By all means and on every possible account, you must," returned the other. "I

dare not give it for nothing, you dare not take it for nothing; it would compromise us both. This is another

case like Jane Galbraith's. The more things are wrong the more we must act as if all were right. Where does

There was an instant's hesitation, and the die was cast. Macfarlane could not suppress a nervous twitch, the

infinitesimal mark of an immense relief, as he felt the key between his fingers. He opened the cupboard,

brought out pen and ink and a paperbook that stood in one compartment, and separated from the funds in a

"Now, look here," he said, "there is the payment madefirst proof of your good faith: first step to your

security. You have now to clinch it by a second. Enter the payment in your book, and then you for your part

The next few seconds were for Fettes an agony of thought; but in balancing his terrors it was the most

immediate that triumphed. Any future difficulty seemed almost welcome if he could avoid a present quarrel

with Macfarlane. He set down the candle which he had been carrying all this time, and with a steady hand

"And now," said Macfarlane, "it's only fair that you should pocket the lucre. I've had my share already. By

the bye, when a man of the world falls into a bit of luck, has a few shillings extra in his pocketI'm ashamed

to speak of it, but there's a rule of conduct in the case. No treating, no purchase of expensive classbooks, no

"Macfarlane," began Fettes, still somewhat hoarsely, "I have put my neck in a halter to oblige you."

"To oblige me?" cried Wolfe. "Oh, come! You did, as near as I can see the matter; what you downright had to

do in selfdefence. Suppose I got into trouble, where would you be? This second little matter flows clearly

from the first. Mr. Gray is the continuation of Miss Galbraith. You can't begin and then stop. If you begin,

A horrible sense of blackness and the treachery of fate seized hold upon the soul of the unhappy student.

"My God!" he cried, "but what have I done? and when did I begin? To be made a class assistantin the

name of reason, where's the harm in that? Service wanted the position; Service might have got it. Would he

"My dear fellow," said Macfarlane, "what a boy you are! What harm has come to you? What harm can come

to you if you hold your tongue? Why, man, do you know what this life is? There are two squads of usthe

lions, and the lambs. If you're a lamb, you'll come to lie upon these tables like Gray or Jane Galbraith; if

you're a lion, you'll live and drive a horse like me, like K, like all the world with any wit or courage.

You're staggered at the first. But look at K! My dear fellow, you're clever, you have pluck. I like you,

and K likes you. You were born to lead the hunt; and I tell you, on my honour and my experience of

life, three days from now you'll laugh at all these scarecrows like a highschool boy at a farce."

And with that Macfarlane took his departure and drove off up the wynd in his gig to get under cover before

daylight. Fettes was thus left alone with his regrets. He saw the miserable peril in which he stood involved.

He saw, with inexpressible dismay, that there was no limit to his weakness, and that, from concession to

concession, he had fallen from the arbiter of Macfarlane's destiny to his paid and helpless accomplice. He

would have given the world to have been a little braver at the time, but it did not occur to him that he might

still be brave. The secret of Jane Galbraith and the cursed entry in the daybook closed his mouth.

Hours passes; the class began to arrive; the members of the unhappy Gray were dealt out to one and to

another, and received without remark. Richardson was made happy with the head; and before the hour of

freedom rang Fettes trembled with exultation to perceive how far they had already gone toward safety.

For two days he continued to watch, with increasing joy, the dreadful process of disguise.

On the third day Macfarlane made his appearance. He had been ill, he said; but he made up for lost time by

the energy with which he directed the students. To Richardson in particular he extended the most valuable

assistance and advice, and that student, encouraged by the praise of the demonstrator, burned high with

Before the week was out Macfarlane's prophecy had been fulfilled. Fettes had outlived his terrors and had

forgotten his baseness. He began to plume himself upon his courage, and had so arranged the story in his

mind that he could look back on these events with an unhealthy pride. Of his accomplice he saw but little.

They met, of course, in the business of the class; they received their orders together from Mr. K. At

times they had a word or two in private, and Macfarlane was from first to last particularly kind and jovial.

But it was plain that he avoided any reference to their common secret; and even when Fettes whispered to

him that he had cast in his lot with the lions and forsworn the lambs, he only signed to him smilingly to hold

At length an occasion arose which threw the pair once more into a closer union. Mr. K was again short

of subjects; pupils were eager, and it was a part of this teacher's pretensions to be always well supplied. At

the same time there came the news of a burial in the rustic graveyard of Glencorse. Time has little changed

the place in question. It stood then, as now, upon a cross road, out of call of human habitations, and buried

fathoms deep in the foliage of six cedar trees. The cries of the sheep upon the neighbouring hills, the

streamlets upon either hand, one loudly singing among pebbles, the other dripping furtively from pond to

pond, the stir of the wind in mountainous old flowering chestnuts, and once in seven days the voice of the

bell and the old tunes of the precentor, were the only sounds that disturbed the silence around the rural

church. The Resurrection Manto use a byname of the periodwas not to be deterred by any of the

sanctities of customary piety. It was part of his trade to despise and desecrate the scrolls and trumpets of old

tombs, the paths worn by the feet of worshippers and mourners, and the offerings and the inscriptions of

bereaved affection. To rustic neighbourhoods, where love is more than commonly tenacious, and where some

bonds of blood or fellowship unite the entire society of a parish, the bodysnatcher, far from being repelled

by natural respect, was attracted by the ease and safety of the task. To bodies that had been laid in earth, in

joyful expectation of a far difFerent awakening, there came that hasty, lamplit, terrorhaunted resurrection

of the spade and mattock. The coffin was forced, the cerements torn, and the melancholy relics, clad in

sackcloth, after being rattled for hours on moonless byways, were at length e~posed to uttermost indignities

Somewhat as two vultures may swoop upon a dying lamb, Fettes and Macfarlane were to be let loose upon a

grave in that green and quiet restingplace. The wife of a farmer, a woman who had lived for sixty years, and

been known for nothing but good butter and a godly conversation, was to be rooted from her grave at

midnight and carried, dead and naked to that faraway city that she had always honoured with her Sunday's

best; the place beside her family was to be empty till the crack of doom; her innocent and almost venerable

Late one afternoon the pair set forth, well wrapped in cloaks and furnished with a formidable bottle. It rained

without remissiona cold, dense, lashing rain. Now and again there blew a puff of wind, but these sheets of

falling water kept it down. Bottle and all, it was a sad and silent drive as far as Penicuik, where they were to

spend the evening. They stopped once, to hide their implements in a thick bush not far from the churchyard,

and once again at the Fisher's Tryst, to have a toast before the kitchen fire and vary their nips of whisky with

a glass of ale. When they reached their journey's end the gig was housed, the horse was fed and comforted,

and the two young doctors in a private room sat down to the best dinner and the best wine the house afforded.

The lights, the fire, the beating rain upon the window, the cold, incongruous work that lay before them, added

zest to their enjoyment of the meal. With every glass their cordiality increased. Soon Macfarlane handed a

"A compliment," he said. "Between friends these little dd accommodations ought to fly like

Fettes pocketed the money, and applauded the sentiment to the echo. "You are a philosopher," he cried. "I

was an ass till I knew you. You and K between you, by the Lord Harry! but you'll make a man of me."

"Of course, we shall," applauded Macfarlane. "A man? I tell you, it required a man to back me up the other

morning. There are some big, brawling, fortyyearold cowards who would have turned sick at the look of

"It was no affair of mine. There was nothing to gain on the one side but disturbance, and on the other I could

count on your gratitude, don't you see?" And he slapped his pocket till the gold pieces rang.

Macfarlane somehow felt a certain touch of alarm at these unpleasant words. He may have regretted that he

had taught his young companion so successfully, but he had no time to interfere, for the other noisily

"The great thing is not to be afraid. Now, between you and me, I don't want to hangthat's practical; but for

all cant, Macfarlane, I was born with a contempt. Hell, God, Devil, right, wrong, sin, crime, and all the old

gallery of curiosities they may frighten boys, but men of the world, like you and me, despise them. Here's

It was by this time growing somewhat late. The gig, according to order, was brought round to the door with

both lamps brightly shining, and the young men had to pay their bill and take the road. They announced that

they were bound for Peebles, and drove in that direction till they were clear of the last houses of the town;

then, extinguishing the lamps, returned upon their course, and followed a byroad toward Glencorse. There

was no sound but that of their own passage, and the incessant, strident pouring of the rain. It was pitch dark;

here and there a white gate or a white stone in the wall guided them for a short space across the night; but for

the most part it was at a foot pace, and almost groping, that they picked their way through that resonant

blackness to their solemn and isolated destination. In the sunken woods that traverse the neighbourhood of

the buryingground the last glimmer failed them, and it became necessary to kindle a match and reillumine

one of the lanterns of the gig. Thus, under the dripping trees, and environed by huge and moving shadows,

They were both experienced in such affairs, and powerful with the spade; and they had scarce been twenty

minutes at their task before they were rewarded by a dull rattle on the coffin lid. At the same moment

Macfarlane, having hurt his hand upon a stone, flung it carelessly above his head. The grave, in which they

now stood almost to the shoulders, was close to the edge of the plateau of the graveyard; and the gig lamp

had been propped, the better to illuminate their labours, against a tree, and on the immediate verge of the

steep bank descending to the stream. Chance had taken a sure aim with the stone. Then came a clang of

broken glass; night fell upon them; sounds alternately dull and ringing announced the bounding of the lantern

down the bank, and its occasional collision with the trees. A stone or two, which it had dislodged in its

descent, rattled behind it into the profundities of the glen; and then silence, like night, resumed its sway; and

they might bend their hearing to its utmost pitch, but naught was to be heard except the rain, now marching to

They were so nearly at an end of their abhorred task that they judged it wisest to complete it in the dark. The

coffin was exhumed and broken open; the body inserted in the dripping sack and carried between them to the

gig; one mounted to keep it in its place, and the other, taking the horse by the mouth, groped along by wall

and bush until they reached the wider road by the Fisher's Tryst. Here was a faint, diffused radiancy, which

they hailed like daylight; by that they pushed the horse to a good pace and began to rattle along merrily in the

They had both been wetted to the skin during their operations, and now, as the gig jumped among the deep

ruts, the thing that stood propped between them fell now upon one and now upon the other. At every

repetition of the horrid contact each instinctively repelled it with the greater haste; and the process, natural

although it was, began to tell upon the nerves of the companions. Macfarlane made some illfavoured jest

about the farmer's wife, but it came hollowly from his lips, and was allowed to drop in silence. Still their

unnatural burden bumped from side to side; and now the head would be laid, as if in confidence, upon their

shoulders, and now the drenching sackcloth would flap icily about their faces. A creeping chill began to

possess the soul of Fettes. He peered at the bundle, and it seemed somehow larger than at first. All over the

countryside, and from every degree of distance, the farm dogs accompanied their passage with tragic

ululations; and it grew and grew upon his mind that some unnatural miracle had been accomplished, that

some nameless change had befallen the dead body, and that it was in fear of their unholy burden that the dogs

"For God's sake," said he, making a great effort to arrive at speech, "for God's sake, let's have a light!"

Seemingly Macfarlane was affected in the same direction; for, though he made no reply, he stopped the

horse, passed the reins to his companion, got down, and proceeded to kindle the remaining lamp. They had by

that time got no farther than the crossroad down to Auchenclinny. The rain still poured as though the deluge

were returning, and it was no easy matter to make a light in such a world of wet and darkness. When at last

the flickering blue flame had been transferred to the wick and began to expand and clarify, and shed a wide

circle of misty brightness round the gig, it became possible for the two young men to see each other and the

thing they had along with them. The rain had moulded the rough sacking to the outlines of the body

underneath; the head was distinct from the trunk, the shoulders plainly modelled; something at once spectral

For some time Macfarlane stood motionless, holding up the lamp. A nameless dread was swathed, like a wet

sheet, about the body, and tightened the white skin upon the face of Fettes; a fear that was meaningless, a

horror of what could not be, kept mounting to his brain. Another beat of the watch, and he had spoken. But

And as Fettes took the lamp his companion untied the fastenings of the sack and drew down the cover from

the head. The light fell very clear upon the dark, wellmoulded features and smoothshaven cheeks of a too

familiar countenance, often beheld in dreams of both of these young men. A wild yell rang up into the night;

each leaped from his own side into the roadway; the lamp fell, broke and was extinguished; and the horse,

terrified by this unusual commotion, bounded and went off toward Edinburgh at a gallop, bearing along with