"I think Mr. Fritz was mistaken, when he told you she had never left her room," said the housemaid. "I am next to certain I heard her whispering, early this morning, with crazy Jack. Do you think she will follow the hearse to the Deadhouse, with Mr. Keller and the doctor?" "Hush!" said Joseph. As he spoke, the heavy wheels of the hearse were heard in the street. He led the way to the top of the kitchen stairs. "Wait here," he whispered, "while I answer the door--and you will see." Upstairs, in the drawing-room, Fritz and Minna were alone. Madame Fontaine's door, closed to everyone, was a closed door even to her daughter. Fritz had refused to let Minna ask a second time to be let in. "It will soon be your husband's privilege, my darling, to take care of you and comfort you," he said. "At this dreadful time, there must be no separation between you and me." His arm was round her; her head rested on his shoulder. She looked up at him timidly. "Are you not going with them to the cemetery?" she asked. "I am going to stay with you, Minna." "You were angry yesterday, Fritz, when you met me with my mother. Don't think the worse of her, because she is ill and troubled in her mind. You will make allowances for her as I do--won't you?" "My sweet girl, there is nothing I won't do to please you! Kiss me, Minna. Again! again!" On the higher floor of the house, Mr. Keller and the doctor were waiting in the chamber of death. Jack kept his silent watch by the side of the couch, on which the one human creature who had befriended him lay hushed in the last earthly repose. Still, from time to time, he whispered to himself the sad senseless words, "No, no, no--not dead, Mistress! Not dead yet!" There was a soft knock at the door. The doctor opened it. Madame Fontaine stood before him. She spoke in dull monotonous tones--standing in the doorway; refusing, when she was invited by a gesture, to enter the room. "The hearse has stopped at the door," she said. "The men wish to ask you if they can come in." It was Joseph's duty to make this announcement. Her motive for forestalling him showed itself dimly in her eyes. They were not on Mr. Keller; not on the doctor; not on the couch. From the moment when the door had been opened to her, she fixed her steady look on Jack. It never moved until the bearers of the dead hid him from her when they entered the room. The procession passed out. Jack, at Mr. Keller's command, followed last. Standing back at the doorway, Madame Fontaine caught him by the arm as he came out. "You were half asleep this morning," she whispered. "You are not half asleep now. How did you get the blue-glass bottle? I insist on knowing." "I won't tell you!" Madame Fontaine altered her tone. "Will you tell me who emptied the bottle? I have always been kind to you--it isn't much to ask. Who emptied it?"