Mr.Fortescue, who rose early, expected everybody else to follow his example in this respect, and, as a rule, everybody did so.
One morning, at the beginning of October, when the sun rose about six o'clock, and we rose with it, I got up, donned my dressing-gown, and went, as usual, to take my matutinal bath.

In order to reach the bath-room I had to pass Mr.Fortescue's chamber-door.

As I neared it I heard within loud exclamations of horror and dismay, in a voice which I recognized as the voice of Ramon.

Thinking that something was wrong, that Mr.Fortescue had perchance been taken suddenly ill, I pushed open the door and entered without ceremony.
Mr.Fortescue was sitting up in bed, looking with startled gaze at the window; and Ramon stood in the middle of the room, aghast and dismayed.
And well he might, for there hung at the window a man--or the body of one--his hands convulsively grasping the magnetized rod, the distorted face pressed against the glass, the lack-lustre eyes wide open, the jaw drooping.

In that ghastly visage I recognized the features of Giuseppe Griscelli! "Is he dead, doctor ?" asked Mr.Fortescue.
"He has been dead several hours," I said, as I examined the corpse.
"So much the better; the brood is one less, and perhaps after this they will let me live in peace.