"But this is not a case of attending a patient, Baron," said David Arden, a little haughtily. "And what ze devil _is_ it, then?" said the baron, turning on him suddenly. "Monsieur will pardon me, but we professional men must turn our time and knowledge to account, do you see? And we don't give eizer wizout being paid, and _well_ paid for them, eh?" "Of course. I meant nothing else," said David Arden. "Then, Sir, we understand one another so far, and that saves time. Now, what information can the Baron Vanboeren give to Monsieur David Arden?" "I think you would prefer my putting my questions quite straight." "Straight as a sword-thrust, Sir." "Then, Baron, I want to know whether you were acquainted with two persons, Yelland Mace and Walter Longcluse." "Yes, I knew zem bos, slightly and yet intimately--intimately and yet but slightly. You wish, perhaps, to learn particulars about those gentlemen?" "I do." "Go on: interrogate." "Do you perfectly recollect the features of these persons?" "I ought." "Can you give me an accurate description of Yelland Mace?" "I can bring you face to face with both." "By Jove! Sir, are you serious?" "Mr. Longcluse is in London." "But you talk of bringing me face to face with them; how soon?" "In five minutes." "Oh, you mean a photograph, or a picture?" "No, in the solid. Here is the key of the catacombs." And he took a key that hung from a nail on the wall. "Bah, ha, yah!" exploded the baron, in a ferocious sneer, rather than a laugh, and shrugging his great shoulders to his ears, he shook them in barbarous glee, crying--"What clever fellow you are, Monsieur Arden! you see so well srough ze millstone! _Ich bin klug und weise_--you sing zat song. I am intelligent and wise, eh, he! gra-a, ha, ha!" He seized the candlestick in one hand, and shaking the key in the other by the side of his huge forehead, he nodded once or twice to David Arden. "Not much life where we are going; but you shall see zem bose." "You speak riddles, Baron; but by all means bring me, as you say, face to face with them." "Very good, Monsieur; you'll follow me," said the baron. And he opened a door that admitted to the gallery, and, with the candle and the keys, he led the way, by this corridor, to an iron door that had a singular appearance, being sunk two feet back in a deep wooden frame, that threw it into shadow. This he unlocked, and with an exertion of his weight and strength, swung slowly open. CHAPTER LXXIX. RESURRECTIONS. David Arden entered this door, and found himself under a vaulted roof of brick. These were the chambers, for there was at least two, which the baron termed his catacombs. Along both walls of the narrow apartment were iron doors, in deep recesses, that looked like the huge ovens of an ogre, sunk deep in the wall, and the baron looked himself not an unworthy proprietor. The baron had the General's faculty of remembering faces and names.