At the end of thirty-five minutes the patient, still under the influence of ether was carried back to her chamber and laid back upon her bed, quiet as a sleeping infant.

“It is all over,” said Doctor Hillhouse as the eyes of Mrs. Carlton unclosed a little while afterward and she looked up into his face.  He was no longer the impassive surgeon, but the tender and sympathizing friend.  His voice was flooded with feeling and moisture dimmed his eyes.

What a look of sweet thankfulness came into the face of Mrs. Carlton as she whispered, “And I knew nothing of it!” Then, shutting her eyes and speaking to herself, she said, “It is wonderful.  Thank God, thank God!”

It was almost impossible to, restrain Mr. Carlton, so excessive was his delight when the long agony of suspense was over.  Doctor Hillhouse had to grasp his arm tightly and hold him back as he stooped down over his wife.  In the blindness of his great joy he would have lifted her in his arms.

“Perfect quiet,” said the doctor.  “There must be nothing to give her heart a quicker pulsation.  Doctor Angier will remain for half an hour to see that all goes well.”

The two surgeons then retired, Doctor Kline accompanying Doctor Hillhouse to his office.  The latter was silent all the way.  The strain over and the alcoholic stimulation gone, mind and body had alike lost their abnormal tension.

“I must congratulate you, doctor,” said the friendly surgeon who had assisted in the operation.  “It was even more difficult than I had imagined.  I never saw a case in which the sheathings of the internal jugular vein and carotid artery were so completely involved.  The tumor had made its ugly adhesion all around them.  I almost held my breath when the blood from a severed artery spurted over your scalpel and hid from sight the keen edge that was cutting around the internal jugular.  A false movement of the hand at that instant might have been fatal.”

“Yes; and but for the clearness of that inner sight which, in great exigencies, so often supplements the failing natural vision, all might have been lost,” replied Doctor Hillhouse, betraying in his unsteady voice the great reaction from which he was suffering.  “If I had known,” he added, “that the tumor was so large and its adhesion so extensive, I would not have operated to-day.  In fact, I was in no condition for the performance of any operation.  I committed a great indiscretion in going to Mr. Birtwell’s last night.  Late suppers and wine do not leave one’s nerves in the best condition, as you and I know very well, doctor; and as a preparation for work such as we have had on hand to-day nothing could be worse.”

“Didn’t I hear something about the disappearance of a young man who left Mr. Birtwell’s at a late hour?” asked Doctor Kline.

“Nothing has been heard of the son of Wilmer Voss since he went away from Mr. Birtwell’s about one o’clock,” replied Doctor Hillhouse, “and his family are in great distress about him.  Mrs. Voss, who is one of my patients, is in very delicate health and when I saw her at eleven o’clock to-day was lying in a critical condition.”