And the doctor answered her, panting: “Once more! once more! Now! now!” And so on, for minute after minute; luring her on, pleading with her, promising her, lying to her--“Once more! Once more! This will be the last!” He called to her, he rallied her; he signalled to Thyrsis to help him--to inspire her, to goad her to new endurance. And then another titan effort, and suddenly--incredibly--there burst upon Thyrsis’ sight an apparition. Sick at heart, numb with horror, dazed--he scarcely knew what it was. It happened so swiftly that he had hardly time to see; but something leaped forth something enormous, supernatural! It came--it came--there seemed never to be an end to it! He started to his feet, staring, crying out; and at the same moment the doctor lifted the thing aloft, with a cry of exultation. He held it dangling by one leg. Great God! It was a man! A man! A thing with the head of a man, the body of a man, the legs and arms, the face of a man! A thing hideous--impish--demoniac! A thing purple and dripping with blood--ghastly--unthinkable--monstrous--a spectre of nightmare dreams! And suddenly the doctor lifted his hand and smote it; and the mouth of the thing opened, and there came forth a purplish froth--and then a cry! It was a sound like a tin-pan beaten--a sound that was itself a living presence, an apparition; a thing superhuman, out of another world--like the wailing of a lost spirit, terrifying to every sense! With Thyrsis it was like the falling down of towers within him--his whole being collapsed, and he sunk down upon the bed, sobbing, choking, convulsed. Section 11. When he looked up again the elder nurse had the baby in her arms; and there was a wan smile on Corydon’s face. The doctor’s hand was in the ghastly wound, and he was talking to the young nurse, giving her instruction, in a strange, monotonous tone. “The placenta,” he was saying, “often has to be removed; we do it by twisting it round and round--very gently, of course. Then it comes--so!” There came a rush of blood, and Thyrsis turned away his head. “Give me the basin,” said the doctor. “There!--And now the next thing is to see that the uterus contracts immediately. We assist it by compressing the walls, thus. It must be tightly bandaged.” Thyrsis had turned to see the child. He looked at it, and clenched his hands to control his emotions. Yes, it was a man! it was a man! Not a monster, not a demon--a baby! His boy! himself! God, what a ghastly thing to realize! It had his forehead, it had his nose! It was a caricature of himself! A caricature grotesque and impish, and yet one that no human being could mistake--a caricature by the hand of a master! And it was a living thing! It had power of motion--it twisted and writhed, it bent its arms and legs! It winked its eyelids, it opened and shut its mouth, it breathed and made sounds! And it had feeling, too! It had cried out when it was struck!