“It seems so,” replied his wife.  “And now, Joe, you must go to bed again.  I will lie down here with Mary, and be ready to do any thing for her that she may want.”

“I don’t feel sleepy.  I’m sure I couldn’t close my eyes.  So let me sit up with Mary.  You are tired and worn out.”

Mrs. Morgan looked earnestly into her husband’s face.  His eyes were unusually bright, and she noticed a slight nervous restlessness about his lips.  She laid one of her hands on his, and perceived a slight tremor.

“You must go to bed,” she spoke firmly.  “I shall not let you sit up with Mary.  So go at once.”  And she drew him almost by force into the next room.

“It’s no use, Fanny.  There’s not a wink of sleep in my eyes.  I shall lie awake anyhow.  So do you get a little rest.”  Even as he spoke there were nervous twitchings of his arms and shoulders; and as he entered the chamber, impelled by his wife, he stopped suddenly and said: 

“What is that?”

“Where?” asked Mrs. Morgan.

“Oh, it’s nothing—­I see.  Only one of my old boots.  I thought it a great black cat.”

Oh! what a shudder of despair seized upon the heart of the wretched wife.  Too well she knew the fearful signs of that terrible madness from which, twice before, he had suffered.  She could have looked on calmly and seen him die—­but, “Not this—­not this!  Oh, Father in heaven!” she murmured, with such a heart-sinking that it seemed as if life itself would go out.

“Get into bed, Joe; get into bed as quickly as possible.”

Morgan was now passive in the hands of his wife, and obeyed her almost like a child.  He had turned down the bed-clothes, and was about getting in, when he started back, with a look of disgust and alarm.

“There’s nothing there, Joe.  What’s the matter with you?”

“I’m sure I don’t know, Fanny,” and his teeth rattled together, as he spoke.  “I thought there was a great toad under the clothes.”

“How foolish you are!”—­yet tears were blinding her eyes as she said this.  “It’s only fancy.  Get into bed and shut your eyes.  I’ll make you another cup of strong coffee.  Perhaps that will do you good.  You’re only a little nervous.  Mary’s sickness has disturbed you.”

Joe looked cautiously under the bedclothes, as he lifted them up still farther, and peered beneath.

“You know there’s nothing in your bed, see!”

And Mrs. Morgan threw with a single jerk all the clothes upon the floor.

“There now! look for yourself.  Now shut your eyes,” she continued as she spread the sheet and quilt over him after his head was on the pillow.  “Shut them tight and keep them so until I boil the water and make a cup of coffee You know as well as I do that it’s nothing but fancy.”

Morgan closed his eyes firmly, and drew the clothes over his head.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes” said his wife going hurriedly to the door.  Ere leaving, however she partly turned her head and glanced back.  There sat her husband upright and staring fearfully.