The Mystery of St. Agnes Hospital | Page 5

good stories were printed about Dr. Jarvis.
The doctor was sensitive on the subject, and he had threatened the most
dreadful vengeance if he ever found out who had betrayed his secret to
the reporters.
These stories came into Nick's mind at once. He decided to witness this
strange scene to the end.
There was, however, little more to be observed. The doctor
extinguished the lights and ascended the stairs.
He paused a moment beside the mutilated body; put away his knife,
drew the cloth over the corpse, and then turned toward his room.
Nick followed, and entered the room close behind the somnambulist. It
is sometimes possible to question a person in that condition, and to
learn what he would not disclose when awake.
Some such intention was in Nick's mind, but he had no opportunity of

executing it. The doctor walked to the window, of which the shade was
drawn. Accidentally he touched the cord, and the shade, which worked
with a spring, shot up, making a loud noise.
With a peculiar, hoarse cry, the doctor awoke. He exhibited the nervous
terror common at such times. He jumped back from the window, and
turned toward the bed.
Nick, disguised as Cleary, stood directly before him. It was impossible
to avoid discovery. The moonlight flooded the room.
"Cleary!" cried the doctor, "why are you here?"
"I heard you moving about, sir," replied Nick, imitating Cleary's voice
which had very little of the ordinary peculiarities of the negro. Indeed,
he was an educated man.
"Walking in my sleep again," muttered the doctor. "And such dreams!
Great Heaven! such dreams!"
"I thought you must have had a bad nightmare," said Nick.
"I have. It was dreadful."
The doctor pressed his hands to his head.
"What did you dream, sir?"
"What business is that of yours, you infernal, inquisitive rascal?"
"Well, sir," said Nick, respectfully, "I thought from what you did--"
"Did? What did I do?"
Nick very briefly described the scene which he had witnessed.
Dr. Jarvis seemed overcome with horror.
"Is it possible?" he cried.

Then suddenly he turned and hurried out into the laboratory. He went
straight to the corpse upon the slab of stone, and drew back the cloth.
Nick followed, and together they gazed upon the mutilated body. It
seemed to Nick that it was the same which he had seen before, and
which he had known to be not that of Patrick Deever. But in the
uncertain light he could not be certain.
Dr. Jarvis gave him little time for making his decision.
He hastily replaced the cloth, shuddering convulsively as he did so.
Then he returned to his room.
He sat down upon the edge of his cot, and held his head in his hands.
When he looked up his violent mood had passed away. He seemed to
wish to talk.
"It was a hideous dream," he said.
"Murder?" asked Nick.
"There was murder in it," replied the doctor. "I thought that I had
killed--that I had killed a man."
"Patrick Deever?"
"How the devil did you know that?" cried the doctor, springing to his
feet.
"Well, sir, the man has disappeared, and--"
"And somebody has been filling your head with foolish stories. Who
was it?"
"Mr. Deever was asking some questions about his brother."
"And you told him everything you knew, and a good deal more, I
suppose?"

"I didn't tell him anything."
"It's lucky for you that you didn't. Now, look here, Cleary, you know
where your interest lies. Don't you lose a good job by talking too
much."
"No, sir; I won't. But there's something in dreams, and--"
"There was agony in this one. I thought that I had killed Deever, and
was obliged to hide his body. I felt that the police were close upon me.
"It seemed as if I had only one night in which to make myself safe. I
thought first of burning the body in the furnace. Then it seemed best to
use the acid. Heavens, I am glad to be awake again!"
"Such a dream as that means something, sir."
"It means this--that miserable, drunken rascal has disappeared, and I am
likely to have trouble about it."
"He'll come back."
"I don't know about that. Perhaps he won't come back."
"Have you any idea where he is, sir?"
"Do you think I killed him, Cleary?"
"No, sir; certainly not."
"But suppose I did? What then?"
"Well, sir; it's a terrible thing. I--"
"Would you betray me?"
"I would not say a word unless I was sure that you were guilty."
"Even then, why should you speak?"

"There's a conscience, and--"
"Nonsense! What business is it of yours? Now look here; you think a
good deal more about money than you do about your conscience. I've
got money, and I'm willing