It occurred to him that if he left the body where it was and it should be eventually discovered, it would afford the gravest suspicions of foul play; but that if he dragged it back again to the road and laid it with its face in the dust, against the rock with which the deed was done, it might pass for an accident.

Once more that hideous smile of cunning lit up the face which in these few moments had undergone a mysterious deterioration.  He hastily removed the heap of rubbish, shuddered as he saw the loathsome thing once more exposed to view, but seized it, dragged it back, and placed it with consummate art in the position which his criminal prescience had suggested.

As it lay there in the road nothing could have seemed more natural than that it had fallen from the horse; he felt another momentary relief from terror, in which he cunningly conceived a still more sagacious plan, on noticing Romeo.  They were the best of friends; it was easy to catch him.  He did so, removed the saddle, broke the girth and placed it near the prostrate figure of the quack.  Nothing could have more perfectly resembled an accident.  An adept in crime could not have performed this task with finer skill, and he was free now to turn to the rest of the work that he must do to conceal this ghastly deed.

Approaching the buggy, he found to his immense relief that Pepeeta was still unconscious.  With swift and silent movements he freed the mare, led her out into the road and drove hurriedly away.

The wood through which they were passing was wide and somber.  The shadows of the evening had already begun to creep up the tree-trunks and lurk gloomily among the branches.  Plaintive bird songs were heard from the treetops, and among them those of the mourning dove, whose solemn, funereal note sent shudders through the heart of the trembling fugitive.

But all had gone successfully so far, and he actually began to cherish hope that he would escape detection.  There still remained, however, the uneasy fear that Pepeeta herself had been a witness of the deed.  Horrible as was his own consciousness of his crime, he dared to hope that he could stand it, if only she did not know!  He dreaded to have her waken, and yet it seemed as if he could not endure the suspense until he found whether she had seen the deed or not.

Without trying to rouse her, he drove rapidly forward, and just as he emerged from the wood came to another brook, so similar to the one by the side of which the struggle had occurred, that he conceived the idea of stopping by its side and awakening Pepeeta from her stupor there.  “She will not notice the difference,” he said to himself; “and if she did not witness the fatal blow I can persuade her that I overpowered the doctor and forced him to return while she was in her swoon.”

Stopping the horse, he lifted her inanimate form from the carriage, bore it to the side of the brook, laid it gently upon the bank and dashed a handful of the cold water into her white face.  She gasped, opened her eyes, and, sitting up, looked about her with an expression of terror.