"Shortly before his death M. Felix, being alone in the house in Gerard Street, received a visitor. Whether expected or unexpected, whether welcome or unwelcome, we are not prepared to state; nor are we prepared to state how this visitor obtained entrance to the house. Obtain entrance by some means he undoubtedly did, and mounting the stairs, he knocked at the door of M. Felix's sitting-room. At the moment M. Felix heard the knock he had his Indian desk open before him, and it was in connection with a secret which this desk contained, or to which a document in the desk could afford a clue, that the visit was made. M. Felix, supposing that it was his housekeeper who knocked, opened the door and admitted the intruder. A stormy scene ensued, and M. Felix, throwing open his window, screamed for help. The appeal was sent forth into the wild night more from the fear that he was about to be robbed of this secret than from the fear that his life was in danger. The hypothesis is strengthened by the fact that there were no marks of personal violence on the body of M. Felix. The visitor laid hands upon the desk, and as he did so M. Felix turned from the window, snatched up the dagger, and hurled it with all his force at the robber. The sharp point struck into the flesh of the intruder, and it was his blood which was discovered on the floor of the room. The agitation produced by the scene brought on the attack of heart disease which caused M. Felix's death. The blind and momentary delirium which ensued did not prevent M. Felix from thinking of the revolver beneath his pillows; he staggered into his bedroom, but before he reached his bed he fell lifeless in a chair. While this was going on the robber had seized the desk, and, conscious that to carry away with him the evidence of a dagger dripping with blood might lead to his detection, he threw it swiftly from him behind the sideboard. He threw it with his right hand, his back being toward the door, which accounts for the place and position in which our reporter found the weapon. Then, with the desk in his possession, he escaped from the house--ignorant of the tragedy that had occurred, ignorant that M. Felix was lying dead within a few feet of him. He left the door open, but the fierce wind through the window blew it shut. It was while it was open that the cat which alarmed Mrs. Middlemore and the two constables crept into the room, became besmeared with blood, and crept out. "The departure of the thief was like the falling of the curtain upon a pregnant act in an exciting drama. Imagination follows the man as he flies with his stolen treasure through the deserted streets; imagination wanders to the dead form of M. Felix lying in the chair by the bedside. When the curtain rises again, what will be disclosed?