Then, holding his hand,--closely, but not so as to constrain the muscles,--Lefevre put his own left on the machine according to the direction he had given his assistant,--with his fingers, that is, dipping into the chemicals from plates in the bottom of which the wires conducted to the patient's hands. A shiver ran through the frame of both Lefevre and his companion, a convulsive shudder passed upon the unconscious body, and--a strange cry rang out upon the silence of the ward, and Lefevre withdrew his hands. He and the house-physician looked at each other pale and shaken. The nurse came running at the cry. Lefevre looked out beyond the screen to reassure her, and saw in the dim red reflection of the firelight a sight which struck him gruesomely, used though he was to hospital sights; all about the ward pale scared figures were sitting up in bed, like corpses suddenly raised from the dead. He bent over his patient, who presently opened his eyes and stared at him. "Get some brandy and milk," said Lefevre to his companion. "Who? Where am I?" murmured the patient in a faint voice. "I am Dr Lefevre, and this is St. James's Hospital." "Doctor?--hospital?--oh, I'm dreaming!" murmured the patient. "We'll talk about that when you have taken some of this," said Lefevre, as the house-physician reappeared with the nurse, bearing the brandy and milk. Lefevre presently told him how he had been found in the train, and taken for dead till the card--"this card," said he, taking it from the top of the locker--was discovered on him. The young man listened in open amazement, and looked at the card. "I know nothing of this!" said he. "I never saw the card before! I never heard your name or the hospital's till a minute ago." "Your case was strange before," said Lefevre; "this makes it stranger. Who journeyed with you?" "A man,--a nice, strange, oldish fellow in a fur coat." And the young man wished to enter upon a narrative, when the doctor interrupted him. "You're not well enough to talk much now. Tell me to-morrow all about it."