The doctor sat watching him, and then rose and tapped the fire together, picking up a few fresh pieces of coal to augment the blaze, which seemed to send some of the fog out of the room. "Wild dissipation--gambling with Nature for treasure," said the doctor softly. "Imagination, poor wretch!" The doctor bent down over his patient, who was now sleeping deeply, but had tossed the ulster aside, so that it was gliding down. "Curious, this wild delirium," said the doctor, rearranging the improvised cover. "I often wonder that I have not made it a study and-- Good heavens!" He started back from the couch, and stood staring at his patient for a few minutes before advancing again, and laying his hand upon his breast gently, and then thrusting it beneath the fold of the thick pea-jacket. "It is not delirium; they--" The doctor hesitated a few moments after drawing back from the couch once more. Then, with his whole manner changed, he thrust his hand into the sleeping man's breast, glanced round, and, satisfied that he was not overlooked, drew forth a good-sized wash-leather bag, simply tied round the neck with a strip of the same skin. "Stones," muttered the doctor, with his face agitated and his eyes glittering; and after balancing the bag in his hand and glancing at the sleeping man, he placed it upon the table, where the light of the lamp was upon it full. Then ensued a period of hesitation, the doctor's fingers worked as he stood gazing down at the little yellowish-drab bag, and anon at his patient. Then the newly awakened curiosity prevailed, and, unable to contain himself, he rapidly untied the string, drew open the bag, and saw that it was nearly full of large rough crystals, which sparkled in a feeble way in the light. "Why, they must be worth a large sum," muttered the doctor, pouring out some of the stones into his hand, but pouring them back with a shudder. "How horrible!" He did not say what was horrible, but hastily retied the bag and placed it back in the sleeping man's breast, before hurrying out into the surgery, and pacing to and fro in an agitated way. CHAPTER NINE. THE STRANGE ACCIDENT. A change seemed to have come over Doctor Chartley. A short time before he was calm and placid, his movements were slow, and a pleasant stereotyped professional smile made his handsome face beam. But now all was changed; the smile had gone, and, as he had passed to and fro, the light from the gas bracket displayed a countenance puckered with curious lines and frowns, while the variations of shadow caused by his constantly-changing position seemed to have altered him into another man. He went back into the consulting-room, and looked at his patient, to find him breathing more easily and plunged into a deep sleep; and as he bent over him his hand stole toward the prostrate man's breast.