Again he gazed intently on Delapine's face, and thought he detected a slight movement of the muscles. Was he mistaken? How could it be possible? Delapine was undoubtedly dead, he said to himself. Riche's face broke out into a cold sweat, and he attempted to cry out, but his voice died away in silence. No; he lifted up the professor's arms, but they fell down again by their own weight. The clouds flitting across the moon alternately hid and revealed her light, and the black shadows in the room seemed as if they formed themselves into imps and monsters. The stillness became awful. Would the morning never break? Only the clock on the mantel-shelf spoke. Tick-tack, tick-tack, it repeated in a monotonous tone, but no sound answered back. He heard a noise outside, and creeping up to the window, opened it and listened. Too-hoot, too-hoot, it sounded. "It is only the hooting of an owl in the garden," he said, as he shut the window and lay down on the sofa. Doctor Riche's thoughts wandered back again to the café and to Mademoiselle Violette and her ring. What was it she told him when she steadily gazed on it? "I must try and refresh my memory," he said to himself. "I think a sip of brandy might help me," and acting on the impulse he turned up the light, and entering the next room poured out a liqueur glass of the brandy which François had brought for Renée. "Ah! That does one good," he said as he poured out a second glass. "I recollect perfectly now the very words she said. I remember her telling me that she saw a house in one of the suburbs of Paris. "'Yes,' she said, 'I see a large room which opens into a smaller room. I see a number of people sitting down in a half circle. There are'--what was it she said? Oh! I remember--'there are five men and three ladies.' I recollect the number perfectly, because at the time it flashed across my mind that there were exactly the same five men and three women figures in a Noah's Ark I gave to my nephew last New Year's day. Ma foi! but that is curious. The number corresponds exactly to the number of guests who were at the séance last night. Let me see. There were Villebois, Payot, Delapine, Marcel, and myself--five men; and Madame, Céleste and Renée--three ladies." "By Jove!" he exclaimed, "that is a very curious coincidence, and I remember now she said one of the men had a pointed black beard, and they were putting him to sleep. And then someone suddenly cried out: 'Oh! God, he is dead.' Why, that fits Delapine like a glove. Oh yes, and I recollect now she spoke of a large envelope sealed with four or five seals--I forget which--in a drawer, or writing-table, or secretary or something, I must hunt around for it as soon as I have had breakfast. Céleste will be only too pleased to help me. Of course it is all nonsense--but still as the first part of her version fits so well, it is just worth while seeing whether any other part will prove true."