"Certainement," said Paul. "But I should like to advise you that you and Monsieur le Commissaire Biron should deliver a verbal report ad interim to the Parquet in which you two describe the extraordinary state of affairs, and ask the Parquet the permission for Delapine's body to remain in its present position until his demise is ascertained without a shadow of doubt. Dr. Villebois, as owner of the house in which the strange occurrence happened, is bound to report it to the authorities on his behalf. If he will make an application to the Parquet in the same sense as I wish you and Monsieur Biron to do I am sure he will be allowed to keep Delapine's body in the house until all is settled." "Vous avez raison," answered Roux, "I shall go and see Monsieur Biron to-morrow. There is something strange in Delapine's appearance which makes me believe that he is still alive, although there is absolutely no pulse, no heart sounds, and his temperature is very little, if any, above that of the room. In fact there are no signs of life whatever." Roux looked anxiously at his friend Paul who had been listening intently to every word he said. A sudden thought struck Paul. "Tell me," he said, "what was the fluid which the fellow injected into the professor's arm?" "That I cannot tell you. I know it was a slightly yellowish-looking liquid, very brilliant, and possessing a pale bluish opalescense like quinine. Dr. Riche showed me what had been left in the syringe which he had poured into a small phial." Paul played with his fingers nervously and poured out another glass of wine. "Excuse me a moment," he said, "while I go into my laboratory." "Mayn't I come with you?" asked Roux. "Certainly, certainly, my dear colleague, by all means." The two entered the laboratory, and Paul took up a well-worn handbook on Medical Jurisprudence, and with feverish haste turned up one reference after another. "No," he said to himself, "there is nothing here which can afford a clue. I know of no poison which can produce the symptoms of death-trance. Stay, wait a minute," and he tapped his forehead. "Yes, how stupid of me," he said aloud, and crossing over to the side of the room he fetched a short ladder and ran rapidly up the steps. "Mon Dieu!" he cried, as he took down the bottle which had been sent him from Japan. "Look here, Roux, do you see this little bottle?" "Yes, what of it?" "Observe it is half empty, and I swear the other day it was quite full. Who could have taken it? I am always so particular to keep the room locked. Good God," he suddenly exclaimed, "can it be possible?" "What is the matter?" asked Roux, as his companion suddenly stopped and put his hand to his head. "Are you ill?" Taking the bottle in his hands he descended the ladder all of a tremble. In his excitement he lost his balance, and fell to the ground with the steps on top of him. The bottle flew out of his hand and was smashed to atoms.