Following the maniac was the nurse, who endeavored to stop the chase; but he could not hold the violent patient, though the cat had a moment's reprieve. It glared at its enemy from a corner; then, as the pursuer bounded toward it, the cat sprang to my head and shoulders, spitting and snarling defiance, and from my head, which was rather bald, it leaped to the head of the doctor--which was balder--thence to the floor, and out of the room. The patient pursued, but was stopped and held by the doctor and nurse. "Sit down in that chair," said the doctor, "and behave yourself." The frenzy left the man's eyes, and he quietly obeyed. "I have told you often enough," said the doctor to the nurse, "to keep that cat out of this ward." He wiped the blood from his bare scalp. "Why are not my instructions carried out?" "It was not my fault, sir," answered the nurse. "I do not know who let the cat in." "Never let it happen again. Bring those chairs in." "Wait, doctor," said the professor. "Can you send in a bench about a foot high, or, if not, a bucket or pail. I want to seat this man on something hard." There was no such bench, he was informed, but a large pail came in with the chairs. I had been studying the patient. He was a middle-sized, middle-aged man, with a careworn face and gray hair and beard, and he sat tremblingly in his chair, and looked pleadingly at the doctor. "I could not help it, doctor," he said. "I hate them--they madden me." "Never mind, Monson," answered the doctor kindly; "but we're going to try again to take it out of you. You must sit still and be hypnotized." "What! More of that foolishness! It never did any good." "Not hypnotized this time--mesmerized. This gentleman thinks he can put you to sleep. If he succeeds, you will remember your past. Isn't it worth trying? Come, now; be sensible." He looked at the professor doubtingly, and I also looked at him, noticing perhaps what the doctor did not--that he was trembling from head to foot, and that the muscles of his mouth twitched; but he pulled himself together and approached the patient. "Yes, my poor fellow," he said, in his kindly voice, "it can be done. I have never failed. You will remember your former name and all your early life." "I have studied this thing a little," answered Monson, "and I understand that it is done by suggestion to the subconscious mind." "You are right. And as you seem to be a well-informed, intelligent man, it will be all the easier. Come over here, and sit down on the upturned pail." He changed his seat, and the professor, warning us to perfect silence, made a few passes over the man's head and down before him.