I gathered myself together and flew to the corpse-room.  About midway down the outside rank, a shrouded figure was sitting upright, wagging its head slowly from one side to the other—­a grisly spectacle!  Its side was toward me.  I hurried to it and peered into its face.  Heavens, it was Adler!

Can you divine what my first thought was?  Put into words, it was this:  ’It seems, then, you escaped me once:  there will be a different result this time!’

Evidently this creature was suffering unimaginable terrors.  Think what it must have been to wake up in the midst of that voiceless hush, and, look out over that grim congregation of the dead!  What gratitude shone in his skinny white face when he saw a living form before him!  And how the fervency of this mute gratitude was augmented when his eyes fell upon the life-giving cordials which I carried in my hands!  Then imagine the horror which came into this pinched face when I put the cordials behind me, and said mockingly—­

’Speak up, Franz Adler—­call upon these dead.  Doubtless they will listen and have pity; but here there is none else that will.’

He tried to speak, but that part of the shroud which bound his jaws, held firm and would not let him.  He tried to lift imploring hands, but they were crossed upon his breast and tied.  I said—­

’Shout, Franz Adler; make the sleepers in the distant streets hear you and bring help.  Shout—­and lose no time, for there is little to lose.  What, you cannot?  That is a pity; but it is no matter—­it does not always bring help.  When you and your cousin murdered a helpless woman and child in a cabin in Arkansas—­my wife, it was, and my child!—­they shrieked for help, you remember; but it did no good; you remember that it did no good, is it not so?  Your teeth chatter—­then why cannot you shout?  Loosen the bandages with your hands—­then you can.  Ah, I see—­ your hands are tied, they cannot aid you.  How strangely things repeat themselves, after long years; for my hands were tied, that night, you remember?  Yes, tied much as yours are now—­how odd that is.  I could not pull free.  It did not occur to you to untie me; it does not occur to me to untie you.  Sh—! there’s a late footstep.  It is coming this way.  Hark, how near it is!  One can count the footfalls—­one—­two—­three.  There—­it is just outside.  Now is the time!  Shout, man, shout!—­it is the one sole chance between you and eternity!  Ah, you see you have delayed too long—­it is gone by.  There—­it is dying out.  It is gone!  Think of it—­reflect upon it—­you have heard a human footstep for the last time.  How curious it must be, to listen to so common a sound as that, and know that one will never hear the fellow to it again.’

Oh, my friend, the agony in that shrouded face was ecstasy to see!  I thought of a new torture, and applied it—­assisting myself with a trifle of lying invention—­

’That poor Kruger tried to save my wife and child, and I did him a grateful good turn for it when the time came.  I persuaded him to rob you; and I and a woman helped him to desert, and got him away in safety.’  A look as of surprise and triumph shone out dimly through the anguish in my victim’s face.  I was disturbed, disquieted.  I said—­