Nick could hear Follansbee’s footfalls as the latter came across the room and halted by the side of the bed. The hawklike face bent over him and the beady eyes searched his features for a few moments. The pains which Nick had taken in his disguise justified themselves, however, and Follansbee presently straightened up. “Very well, Miss Worth,” he said, turning to the matron, “you need not wait. If I want the nurse I shall call her.” The woman left the ward. Nick heard the door close softly behind her, and then he cautiously opened his eyes a little and glanced up at the tilted mirror. It caught the glow from the electric bulb, and he could see every movement that the doctor made—could even mark the sinister expression on Follansbee’s face. The head of St. Swithin’s had been carrying a little bag, and this he placed on the table, bringing out various articles and placing them in readiness. Then, from the inside pocket, the scientific criminal withdrew a small case containing a number of glass tubes. When his preparations were completed, Follansbee seated himself on the bed and made a swift examination of the helpless man. The expression on his face was almost fiendish now, and the lids were curled in a mocking smile. Evidently the callous scoundrel was gloating over his triumph. Nick held his breath as he watched, for Follansbee had set to work now. The swift, capable fingers reached out toward the little table, selected one of the vials, and dropped its contents on a little pad of cotton. When the pad was saturated, the doctor bent closer over Stone in such a way that the detective was unable to see what happened; but a moment later, when Follansbee straightened up, the first sign of life appeared in the motionless figure. The head moved restlessly from side to side and the eyes fluttered open. Very slowly Stone lifted himself up until he was in a sitting position. His eyes were wide and staring now, and he looked about him with the half-vacant expression of a dazed man. Follansbee had stepped back as Stone sat up, and now, reseating himself on the edge of the bed, the criminal craned his lean neck forward, so that his face was on a level with that of his victim. Stone’s eyes, which had been wavering about the room, seemed to fix themselves on the hard, little ones which met them; whereupon Follansbee raised his hands and began to make passes in front of the staring, intent face. The meaning of his actions was at once revealed to the detective: Follansbee had brought his man back to life only to hypnotize him. For what purpose? CHAPTER XLIV. CHICK COMES TO GRIEF. With every nerve on the alert, Nick Carter waited. He was prepared to interfere at once, whatever the cost, if he should feel Stone was in any immediate peril; but he was curious to hear and see all he could. Suddenly a thin voice pierced the silence.