God bless you!" The face of Josephine St.Auban was wholly colorless as once more she assisted the doctor with his patient.

They got him upon his own bed at last.

To Dunwody's imagination, although he could never settle it clearly in his mind, it seemed that a hand had pushed the hair back from his brow; that some one perhaps had arranged a pillow for him.
Jamieson left the room and dropped into a chair in the hall, his face between his hands.

"Sally," he whispered after a time, "whisky--quick!" And when she got the decanter he drank half a tumblerful without a gasp.
"Fiddle string in his leg!" he grinned to himself at last.

"Maybe it won't make him dance, but I'll bet a thousand dollars he'd never have danced again without it!" When at last Josephine found her own room she discovered her maid Jeanne, waiting for her, fright still in her face.
"Madame!" exclaimed Jeanne, "it is terrible! What horrors there are in this place.