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           Descendingtothedoor,hewasfilledwithastonishmenttofindMacfarlanewithhisgig,andinthegigoneofthoselongandghastlypackageswithwhichhewassowellacquainted. 

           ‘What?’hecried. ‘Haveyoubeenoutalone? Howdidyoumanage?’ 

           ButMacfarlanesilencedhimroughly,biddinghimturntobusiness. Whentheyhadgotthebodyupstairsandlaiditonthetable,Macfarlanemadeatfirstasifheweregoingaway. Thenhepausedandseemedtohesitate;andthen,‘Youhadbetterlookattheface,’saidhe,intonesofsomeconstraint. ‘Youhadbetter,’herepeated,asFettesonlystaredathiminwonder. 

           ‘Butwhere,andhow,andwhendidyoucomebyit?’criedtheother. 

           ‘Lookattheface,’wastheonlyanswer. 

           Fetteswasstaggered; strangedoubtsassailedhim. Helookedfromtheyoungdoctortothebody,andthenbackagain. Atlast,withastart,hedidashewasbidden. Hehadalmostexpectedthesightthatmethiseyes,andyettheshockwascruel. Tosee,fixedintherigidityofdeathandnakedonthatcoarselayerofsackcloth,themanwhomhehadleftwellcladandfullofmeatandsinuponthethresholdofatavern,awoke,eveninthethoughtlessFettes,someoftheterrorsoftheconscience. ItwasaCRASTIBIwhichre-echoedinhissoul,thattwowhomhehadknownshouldhavecometolieupontheseicytables. Yetthesewereonlysecondarythoughts. HisfirstconcernregardedWolfe.