"Is it raining little sister? Be glad of rain. Yield not to the doubt sinister, Choose the pain. It will make your burden lighter, It will make your joy the brighter, Renée dear. "Does your heart ache, Renée dear? Be glad of pain. The harvest never will draw near, Without rain. Sorrow must prepare the way For the clouds to pass away, Renée dear. "Instead of weeping at your loss, Rejoice for him. You cannot see that he is sleeping, With eyes so dim. Death can never reach so far, Peering through the gates ajar, Renée dear. "Are you weary of the fight? Struggle on. When all is lost, and dark the night, The victory's won. Love will steer your bark aright, When there is no land in sight, Renée dear." "It would be interesting to see if we could find any indications of life," said Roux, "and I propose that we adjourn to Delapine's bedside once more." "That is quite a good idea," said Villebois and Riche together. "If you will permit me, gentlemen," said Roux after applying the stethoscope over the heart to no purpose, "I will make a prick with a needle into the arm." He did so, but no blood flowed. "That is a certain proof that he is dead." "Not so fast, not so fast, sir," said Riche. "Bring me a mirror. This is a much more delicate test which I have made with great success in Algiers, when all other methods have failed." The doctor held a small mirror close to Delapine's mouth, and the three doctors gazed at the highly polished surface intensely. "Look, Villebois, look," said Riche excitedly. "I swear I saw a trace of vapour on the surface." Villebois repeated the experiment without result. "I think the mirror is too warm," said Villebois, "let us cool it." He placed the back of the mirror on a lump of ice for a minute, and wiping the surface with a handkerchief, tried again. "See, see, there is a trace of moisture--I swear it, look!" All three doctors repeated the experiment several times. Sometimes they failed and sometimes they succeeded, or thought they succeeded, and Roux finally departed, unconvinced that he was alive, but at the same time unwilling to sign a certificate to the effect that he was dead. "We must wait for the post-mortem signs to appear over the abdomen," he said to himself. "Three days will settle it at any rate." Riche and Villebois, however, were more sanguine, and they went back to Renée's room. They found Payot sitting by her side, applying the iced bandages to her head, and ever and anon stroking her hair and kissing her forehead. Renée recognised her father, and smiled with mingled surprise and pleasure at the great change which had come over his conduct towards her. "Cheer up, Renée," Villebois cried aloud as they ran to her bedside, "cheer up, we have not abandoned all hope yet." Renée was so petrified with astonishment that she was unable to speak for some moments. "What did you say? Do you mean that Henri is alive?"