"Ah, that was the point that gave me most trouble. I always had an idea that we must add up the three figures 8, 1 and 3; and the number 12, thus obtained, seemed to me at once to apply to this room, which is the twelfth leading out of the gallery. But that was not enough for me. There must be something else, something which my enfeebled brain could not succeed in translating into words. The sight of that clock, situated precisely in the Napoleon Room, was a revelation to me. The number 12 evidently meant twelve o'clock. The hour of noon! The hour of midnight! Is this not the solemn moment which a man most readily selects? But why those three figures 8, 1 and 3, rather than any others which would have given the same total? . . . It was then that I thought of making the clock strike for the first time, by way of experiment. And it was while making it strike that I saw the dots of the first, third and eighth hour were movable and that they alone were movable. I therefore obtained three figures, 1, 3 and 8, which, placed in a more prophetic order, gave the number 813. Waldemar pushed the three dots, the spring was released and Your Imperial Majesty knows the result. . . . This, Sire, is the explanation of that mysterious word and of those three figures 8, 1, 3 which the grand-duke wrote with his dying hand and by the aid of which he hoped that his son would one day recover the secret of Veldenz and become the possessor of the famous letters which he had hidden there." The Emperor listened with eager attention, more and more surprised at the ingenuity, perspicacity, shrewdness and intelligent will which he observed in the man. "Waldemar," he said, when Lupin had finished. "Sire?" But, just as he was about to speak, shouts were heard in the gallery outside. Waldemar left the room and returned: "It's the mad girl, Sire. They won't let her pass." "Let her come in." cried Lupin, eagerly. "She must come in, Sire." At a sign from the Emperor, Waldemar went out to fetch Isilda. Her entrance caused a general stupefaction. Her pale face was covered with dark blotches. Her distorted features bore signs of the keenest suffering. She panted for breath, with her two hands clutched against her breast. "Oh!" cried Lupin, struck with horror. "What is it?" asked the Emperor. "Your doctor, Sire. There is not a moment to lose." He went up to her: "Speak, Isilda. . . . Have you seen anything? Have you anything to say?" The girl had stopped; her eyes were less vacant, as though lighted up by the pain. She uttered sounds. . . . but not a word. "Listen," said Lupin. "Answer yes or no . . . make a movement of the head . . . Have you seen him? Do you know where he is? . . . You know who he is. . . . Listen! if you don't answer. . . ."