Tales of Terror and Mystery

           Followingtheoldwomanupthewindingstair,hisfirmfootfallechoedharshlythroughthesilenthouse.Therewasnocarpet.

           Thebedroomwasonthesecondlanding.DouglasStonefollowedtheoldnurseintoit,withthemerchantathisheels.Here,atleast,therewasfurnitureandtospare.ThefloorwaslitteredandthecornerspiledwithTurkishcabinets,inlaidtables,coatsofchainmail,strangepipes,andgrotesqueweapons.Asinglesmalllampstooduponabracketonthewall.DouglasStonetookitdown,andpickinghiswayamongthelumber,walkedovertoacouchinthecorner,onwhichlayawomandressedintheTurkishfashion,withyashmakandveil.Thelowerpartofthefacewasexposed,andthesurgeonsawajaggedcutwhichzigzaggedalongtheborderoftheunderlip.

           "Youwillforgivetheyashmak,"saidtheTurk."YouknowourviewsaboutwomenintheEast."

           Butthesurgeonwasnotthinkingabouttheyashmak.Thiswasnolongerawomantohim.Itwasacase.Hestoopedandexaminedthewoundcarefully.

           "Therearenosignsofirritation,"saidhe."Wemightdelaytheoperationuntillocalsymptomsdevelop."

           Thehusbandwrunghishandsinuncontrollableagitation.

           "Oh!sir,sir,"hecried."Donottrifle.Youdonotknow.Itisdeadly.Iknow,andIgiveyoumyassurancethatanoperationisabsolutelynecessary.Onlytheknifecansaveher."

           "AndyetIaminclinedtowait,"saidDouglasStone.

           "Thatisenough,"theTurkcried,angrily."Everyminuteisofimportance,andIcannotstandhereandseemywifeallowedtosink.