As he mused like this, and the butler brought in the tea, Dr North was lost in a fit of musing, for, like a flash, the scientific fancy upon which he had so long pondered came to him, so that for the moment he stood breathless and gazing wildly at the door which seemed to open before him. The idea was bewildering. Leo had bidden her suitor distinguish himself as the price at which her love was to be won; and the more he thought, the more the idea shone out, dazzling him by its intense light--shining into the dark places of his soul. What was his theory? That if a hale, hearty man were suddenly cut off by some accident, and apparently dead, could he arrest decay, Nature herself would repair the injury done, even as a fractured bone rapidly knits together and becomes stronger than before. Here, then, was a hale, hearty man suddenly cut down; he was the medical man in attendance, and the opportunity served for restoring this man to life. Why should he not make his first essay now? The idea grew more terrible in its intensity hour by hour. It was his chance if he would grasp it. Impious? No, not more so than performing an operation or trying to save a sufferer from death. But he was dead. "What we call dead," muttered North; "but why not suspended animation? For her sake, for my own fame, to achieve a success such as the world has not heard of before, I must--I will make the essay." "But how?" "And suppose I make him live once more--what then?" The idea blinded him, and he covered his eyes to think. CHAPTER TWENTY SIX. "AH!" "How horrible!" the curate said, when he heard the news from North, who came in at breakfast time. As he spoke these words, Leo entered the room, and stopped short, gazing from one to the other. She had come down looking happy and contented, with a satisfied smile upon her curved lips, heightened by a rather mocking light which danced in her eyes, as they encountered those of the doctor. There was a feeling of triumph, the satisfaction of a vain, weak woman at the sight of the slave ready to cast himself at her feet, and her manner was coquettish as she held out her hand. But her brother's ejaculation, the stern look on the doctor's face, chilled her, and she stopped short, looking from one to the other, her lips parting as if for the utterance of words which would not come. "What is it?" she said at last, wildly. "What is horrible?" "Hush, Leo!" said the curate, taking her hand; "don't be alarmed." "But you said--" "Yes; North has brought in terrible news from the Hall." Leo's face turned ghastly, and she clung to her brother, while North hurriedly placed a chair, into which she sank, but only to sit up rigidly, as she stared with widely opened eyes at the doctor. "Be calm," he said tenderly. "You are still weak." "What is it?" she said, in a voice that did not sound like her own. "It would be better that you should not know," said North. "There has been a sad accident at the Hall."