often been at deathbeds?"
"I have. Very often," Levillier replied.
"I have never seen any one die," Julian continued, still with excitement. "But people have told me, people who have watched by the dying, that at the moment of death sometimes a tiny flame, a sort of shadow almost, comes from the lips of the corpse and evaporates into the air. And they say that flame is the soul going out of the body."
"I have never seen that," Levillier said. "And I have watched many deaths."
"I saw such a flame to-night," Julian said. "After I heard the cry, I distinctly saw a flame come from where Valentine was sitting and float up and disappear in the darkness. And—and afterwards, when Valentine lay so still and cold, I grew to believe that flame was his soul and that I had actually seen him die in the dark."
"Imagination," Valentine said, rather abruptly. "All imagination. Wasn't it, doctor?"
"Probably," Levillier said. "Darkness certainly makes things visible that do not exist. I have patients who are perfectly sane, yet whom I forbid ever to be entirely in the dark. Remove all objects from their sight, and they immediately see non-existent things."
"You think that flame came only from my inner consciousness?" Julian asked.
"I suspect so. Shut your eyes now."
Julian did so. Doctor Levillier bent over and pressed his two forefingers hard on Julian's eyes. After a moment,
"What do you see?" he asked.
"Nothing," Julian replied.
"Wait a little longer. Now what do you see?"
"Now I see a broad ring of yellow light edged with ragged purple."
"Exactly. You see flame-colour."
He removed his fingers and Julian opened his eyes.
"Yes," he said. "But that cry. I most distinctly heard it."
"Imitate it."
"That would be impossible. It was too strange. Are the ears affected by darkness?"
"The sense of hearing is intimately affected by suspense. If you do not listen attentively you may fail to hear a sound that is. If you listen too attentively you may succeed in hearing a sound that is not. Now, shut your eyes again."
Julian obeyed.
"I am going to clap my hands presently," said the doctor. "Tell me as soon as you have heard me do so."
"Yes."
Doctor Levillier made no movement for some time. Then he softly leant forward, extended his arms in the air, and made the motion of clapping his hands close to Julian's face. In reality he did not touch one hand with the other, yet Julian cried out:
"I heard you clap them then."
"I have not clapped them at all," Levillier said.
Julian expressed extreme surprise.
"You see how very easy it is for the senses to be deceived," the doctor added. "Once stir the nervous system into an acute state of anticipation, and it will conjure up for you a veritable panorama of sights, sounds, bodily sensations. But throw it into that state once too often, and the panorama, instead of passing and disappearing, may remain fixed for a time, even forever, before your eyes, your ears, your touch. And that means recurrent or permanent madness. Valentine, I desire you most especially to remember that."
He uttered the words weightily, with very definite intention. Valentine, who still seemed to be in an unusually lazy or careless mood, laughed easily.
"I will remember," he said.
He yawned.
"My trance has made me sleepy," he added.
The doctor got up.
"Yes; bed is the best place for you," he said.
"And for us all, I suppose," added Julian. "Though I feel as if I could never sleep again."
The doctor went out into the hall to get his coat, leaving the friends alone for a moment.
"I am still so excited," Julian went on. "Dear old fellow! How good it is to see you yourself again. I made up my mind that you were dead. This is like a resurrection. Oh, Val, if you had been dead, really!"
"What would you have done?"
"Done! I don't know. Gone to the devil, probably."
"Do you know where to find him?"
"My dear boy, he is in every London street, to begin with."
"In Victoria Street, even. I was only laughing."
"But tell me, what did you feel?"
"Nothing. As if I slept."
"And you really heard, saw, nothing?"
"Nothing."
"And that hand?"
Valentine smiled again, and seemed to hesitate. But then he replied, quietly:
"I told you I could not feel it."
"I did, until I heard that dreadful cry, and then it was suddenly drawn away from me."
Doctor Levillier appeared in the doorway with his overcoat on, but Julian did not notice him. Again his excitement was rising. He began to pace up and down the room.
"My God!" he said, vehemently, "what would Marr say to all this? What does it mean? What can it mean?"
"Don't let us bother too much about it."
"Excellent advice," said Levillier, from the doorway.
Julian stood still.
"Doctor, I can understand your attitude," he said. "But what an amazing being you are, Val. You are as calm and collected as if you had sat and held converse with spirits all through your life. And yet something has governed you, has temporarily deprived you of life. For you were to all intents and purposes dead while you were in that trance."
"Death is simply nothing, and nothingness does not excite or terrify one.
I never felt better than I do at this moment."
"That's well," said Levillier, cheerfully.
Julian regarded Valentine's pure, beautiful face with astonishment.
"And you never looked better."
"I shall sleep exquisitely to-night, or rather this morning," Valentine said.
As he spoke he drew away the heavy green curtain that hung across the window. A very pale shaft of light stole in and lit up
