Dr. Helberson was silent for a long time, as the carriage, at a snail's
pace, crept along the same street it had traveled two or three times
already. Presently he spoke: "Well, let us hope that Mancher, if he has
had to rise from the dead, has been discreet about it. A mistake in that
might make matters worse instead of better."
"Yes," said Harper, "Jarette would kill him. But, Doctor"--looking at
his watch as the carriage passed a gas lamp--"it is nearly four o'clock
at last."
A moment later the two had quitted the vehicle and were walking briskly
toward the long-unoccupied house belonging to the doctor in which they
had immured Mr. Jarette in accordance with the terms of the mad wager.
As they neared it they met a man running. "Can you tell me," he cried,
suddenly checking his speed, "where I can find a doctor?"
"What's the matter?" Helberson asked, non-committal.
"Go and see for yourself," said the man, resuming his running.
They hastened on. Arrived at the house, they saw several persons
entering in haste and excitement. In some of the dwellings near by and
across the way the chamber windows were thrown up, showing a protrusion
of heads. All heads were asking questions, none heeding the questions of
the others. A few of the windows with closed blinds were illuminated;
the inmates of those rooms were dressing to come down. Exactly opposite
the door of the house that they sought a street lamp threw a yellow,
insufficient light upon the scene, seeming to say that it could disclose
a good deal more if it wished. Harper paused at the door and laid a hand
upon his companion's arm. "It is all up with us, Doctor," he said in
extreme agitation, which contrasted strangely with his free-and-easy
words; "the game has gone against us all. Let's not go in there; I'm for
lying low."
"I'm a physician," said Dr. Helberson, calmly; "there may be need of
one."
They mounted the doorsteps and were about to enter. The door was open;
the street lamp opposite lighted the passage into which it opened. It
was full of men. Some had ascended the stairs at the farther end, and,
denied admittance above, waited for better fortune. All were talking,
none listening. Suddenly, on the upper landing there was a great
commotion; a man had sprung out of a door and was breaking away from
those endeavoring to detain him. Down through the mass of affrighted
idlers he came, pushing them aside, flattening them against the wall on
one side, or compelling them to cling to the rail on the other,
clutching them by the throat, striking them savagely, thrusting them
back down the stairs and walking over the fallen. His clothing was in
disorder, he was without a hat. His eyes, wild and restless, had in them
something more terrifying than his apparently superhuman strength. His
face, smooth-shaven, was bloodless, his hair frost-white.
As the crowd at the foot of the stairs, having more freedom, fell away
to let him pass Harper sprang forward. "Jarette! Jarette!" he cried.
Dr. Helberson seized Harper by the collar and dragged him back. The man
looked into their faces without seeming to see them and sprang through
the door, down the steps, into the street, and away. A stout policeman,
who had had inferior success in conquering his way down the stairway,
followed a moment later and started in pursuit, all the heads in the
windows--those of women and children now--screaming in guidance.
The stairway being now partly cleared, most of the crowd having rushed
down to the street to observe the flight and pursuit, Dr. Helberson
mounted to the landing, followed by Harper. At a door in the upper
passage an officer denied them admittance. "We are physicians," said the
doctor, and they passed in. The room was full of men, dimly seen,
crowded about a table. The newcomers edged their way forward and looked
over the shoulders of those in the front rank. Upon the table, the lower
limbs covered with a sheet, lay the body of a man, brilliantly
illuminated by the beam of a bull's-eye lantern held by a policeman
standing at the feet. The others, excepting those near the head--the
officer himself--all were in darkness. The face of the body showed
yellow, repulsive, horrible! The eyes were partly open and upturned and
the jaw fallen; traces of froth defiled the lips, the chin, the cheeks.
A tall man, evidently a doctor, bent over the body with his hand thrust
under the shirt front. He withdrew it and placed two fingers in the open
mouth. "This man has been about six hours dead," said he. "It is a case
for the coroner."
He drew a card from his pocket, handed it to the officer and made his
way toward the door.
"Clear the room--out, all!" said the officer, sharply, and the body
disappeared as if it had been snatched away, as shifting the lantern he
flashed its beam of light here and there against the faces of the crowd.
The effect was amazing! The men, blinded, confused, almost terrified,
made a tumultuous rush for the door, pushing, crowding, and tumbling
over one another as they fled, like the hosts of Night before the shafts
of Apollo. Upon the struggling, trampling mass the officer poured his
light without pity and without cessation. Caught in the current,
Helberson and Harper were swept out of the room and cascaded down the
stairs into the street.
"Good God, Doctor! did I not tell you that Jarette would kill him?" said
Harper, as soon as they were clear of the crowd.
"I believe you did," replied the other, without apparent emotion.
They walked on in silence, block after block. Against the graying east
the dwellings of the hill tribes showed in silhouette. The familiar milk
wagon was already astir in the streets; the baker's man would soon come
upon the scene; the newspaper carrier was abroad in the land.
"It strikes me, youngster," said Helberson, "that you and I have been
having too much of the morning air lately. It is unwholesome; we need a
change. What do you say to a tour in Europe?"
"When?"
"I'm not particular. I should suppose that four o'clock this afternoon
would be early enough."
"I'll meet you at the boat," said Harper.
Seven years afterward these two men sat upon a bench in Madison Square,
New York, in familiar conversation. Another man, who had been observing
them for some time, himself unobserved, approached and, courteously
lifting his hat from locks as white as frost, said: "I beg your pardon,
gentlemen, but when you have killed a man by coming to life, it is best
to change clothes with him, and at the first opportunity make a break
for liberty."
Helberson and Harper exchanged significant glances. They were obviously
amused. The former then looked the stranger kindly in the eye and
replied:
"That has always been my plan. I entirely agree with you as to its
advant--"
He stopped suddenly, rose and went white. He stared at the man,
open-mouthed; he trembled visibly.
"Ah!" said the stranger, "I see that you are indisposed, Doctor. If you
cannot treat yourself Dr. Harper can do something for you, I am sure."
"Who the devil are you?" said Harper, bluntly.
The stranger came nearer and, bending toward them, said in a whisper: "I
call myself Jarette sometimes, but I don't mind telling you, for old
friendship, that I am Dr. William Mancher."
The revelation brought Harper to his feet. "Mancher!" he cried; and
Helberson added: "It is true, by God!"
"Yes," said the stranger, smiling vaguely, "it is true enough, no
doubt."
He hesitated and seemed to be trying to recall something, then began
humming a popular air. He had apparently forgotten their presence.
"Look here, Mancher," said the elder of the two, "tell us just what
occurred that night--to Jarette, you know."
"Oh, yes, about Jarette," said the other. "It's odd I should have
neglected to tell you--I tell it so often. You see I knew, by
over-hearing him talking to himself, that he was pretty badly
frightened. So I couldn't resist the temptation to come to life and have
a bit of fun out of him--I couldn't really. That was all right, though
certainly I did not think he would take it so seriously; I did not,
truly. And afterward--well, it was a tough job changing places with him,
and then--damn you! you didn't let me out!"
Nothing could exceed the ferocity with which these last words were
delivered. Both men stepped back in alarm.
"We?--why--why," Helberson stammered, losing his self-possession
utterly, "we had nothing to do with it."
"Didn't I say you were Drs. Hell-born and Sharper?" inquired the man,
laughing.
"My name is Helberson, yes; and this gentleman is Mr. Harper," replied
the former, reassured by the laugh. "But we are not physicians now; we
are--well, hang it, old man, we are gamblers."
And that was the truth.
"A very good profession--very good, indeed; and, by the way, I hope
Sharper here paid over Jarette's money like an honest stakeholder. A
very good and honorable profession," he repeated, thoughtfully, moving
carelessly away; "but I stick to the old one. I am High Supreme Medical
Officer of the Bloomingdale Asylum; it is my duty to cure the
superintendent."