"What is the matter with you, are you mad?" exclaimed Dr. Roux, as he tried to stop the blood which spurted from his finger. "Stop, stop, you must not touch him, it's murder," cried Riche. "See here," and he showed Roux a letter which he had just taken out of the envelope. Roux seized the letter and proceeded to read it, while the two other doctors read it from over his shoulder:-- "My beloved Renée," it ran-- "I have reason to suspect that someone is intending to poison me with a drug of such fearful power that I shall either be killed instantly or, what is more probable, I shall be rendered apparently dead, and show no signs of life. If therefore I am found apparently dead, I enjoin you for the love you bear me, not to permit my autopsy, or burial, until the signs of death are clear and unmistakable, otherwise I may be killed or buried alive." "There, Dr. Roux, what do you make of that?" asked Riche. "It is a hoax, sir," said Roux, "the man is dead right enough. I shall proceed to do my duty." "You will not, sir," said Riche in a rage. "Who are you, sir, that you speak to me in this way, and forbid me to obey my orders?" "I am Dr. Riche, Ancien Interne at the Hotel Dieu, and surgeon to the Charité at Algiers," he said, handing over his card. Dr. Roux looked him up and down from head to foot, and adjusting his pince-nez with deliberation took the card and read it carefully. Again he paused and looked at Riche, but observing the terrible earnestness of his expression, he restrained his feelings. "Dr. Riche," he exclaimed with mingled hesitation and astonishment, "forgive me, I apologise for my rudeness, I had no idea I was addressing a colleague so celebrated," and he offered his hand which Riche shook heartily. "I also agree with my friend and colleague," said Villebois. "We must desist at once and arrange to await events." Roux gave a slight grunt of disappointment, but yielding to the inevitable, packed up his instruments, and putting on his coat, bowed profoundly, and prepared to depart. "No, Dr. Roux, we cannot allow you to go without partaking of our hospitality," said Villebois, bowing. "Let us go to the library, and break a bottle of wine between us." The three doctors were soon chatting round the table in the library the very best of friends. "See, doctor, what I have just found in another envelope," said Riche, handing Roux a little love-poem which Delapine had evidently written to Renée about the same time as the letter. "Let me read it to you," said Riche, "it's a gentle rhyme of four verses such as a lover might write to his lady-love. It has, however, a disguised prophetic meaning which shows clearly that Delapine felt convinced that his 'death' would only be apparent, and that he would eventually return to life. "Listen, this is what he says: