“Oh no; no indeed; not just yet,” said the other.

“It is very disappointing,” remarked one.

The man with the knife turned on him and replied with dignity, “I am really surprised at such a remark after all I have said on the subject.  I do wish you would consider the circumstances of the case.  They are peculiar, for this person—­this Martin—­is not an ordinary person.  We have been keeping our eyes on him for some time past, and have witnessed some remarkable actions on his part, to put it mildly.  Let us keep in mind the boldness, the resource, the dangerous violence he has displayed on so many occasions since he took to his present vagabond way of life.”

“It appears to me,” said one of the others, “that if Martin is dead we need not concern ourselves about his character and desperate deeds in the past.”

“If he is dead!” exclaimed the other sharply.  “That is the very point,—­is he dead?  Can you confidently say that he is not in a sound sleep, or in a dead faint, or shamming and ready at the first touch of the knife to leap up and seize his assailant—­I mean his carver—­by the throat and perhaps murder him as he once murdered a spoonbill?”

“That would be very dreadful,” said one.

“But surely,” said another, “there are means of telling whether a person is dead or not?  One simple and effectual method, which I have heard, is to place a hand over the heart to feel if it still beats.”

“Yes, I know, I have also heard of that plan.  Very simple, as you say; but who is to try it?  I invite the person who makes the suggestion to put it in practice.”

“With pleasure,” said the other, coming forward with a tripping gait and an air of not being in the least afraid.  But on coming near the supposed corpse he paused to look round at the others, then pulling out his black silk handkerchief he wiped his black wrinkled forehead and bald head.  “Whew!” he exclaimed, “it’s very hot to-day.”

“I don’t find it so,” said the man with the knife.  “It is sometimes a matter of nerves.”

It was not a very nice remark, but it had the effect of bracing the other up, and moving forward a little more he began anxiously scrutinizing Martin’s face.  The others now began to press forward, but were warned by the man with a knife not to come too near.  Then the bold person who had undertaken to feel Martin’s heart doubled back the silk sleeve of his coat, and after some further preparation extended his arm and made two or three preliminary passes with his trembling hand at a distance of a foot or so from the breast of the corpse.  Then he approached it a little nearer, but before it came to the touching point a sudden fear made him start back.

“What is it?  What did you see?” cried the others.

“I’m not sure there wasn’t a twitch of the eyelid,” he replied.

“Never mind the eyelid—­feel his heart,” said one.