Delapine stood nearly six feet high, with very dark glossy hair falling almost to his shoulders, and wearing a moustache with twisted ends and a short pointed beard. The professor was invariably attired in a black frock coat and cravat, the sombreness being relieved by the red ribbon of the Legion of Honour. He was a man who would command attention anywhere. Active, alert, with an imposing presence, he stood out from the crowd as one born to command. The pale, almost wax-like face, the lofty brow, the firm compressed lips ever and anon breaking out into a smile, all contributed to form a personality which would be both respected and loved. Delapine was slow and measured in speech, and possessed a rich voice of peculiar charm and flexibility which impressed and delighted his audience. He had that power of modulating it to suit the nature of the theme, by which the members of his class were enabled to select without effort the essentials from the non-essentials of his discourse. At times he would pause, and turning his head half round would scan the listeners with his piercing eyes, as if to judge the effect of his words. But ever and anon his overpowering personality would convey the effect of one inspired, and he could elevate the simplest subjects to heights undreamt of, and stamp an indelible impression of it on their imagination. A subject, which in the hands of most men would sound tame and uninteresting, would, when dealt with by him, become illuminated and clothed by the most apt illustrations and exalted thought. No wonder that his students became permeated with the enthusiasm of the master. He seemed to Riche to be the ideal of an experimental philosopher and physicist. But here the doctor was roused from his reflections by the cheery voice of Villebois. "Hullo, Riche, mon vieux, vous voilà enfin! Come along and let me introduce you to Monsieur Marcel, our poet, philosopher and friend; and also to Maitre Duval, our youngest member of the bar of whom I told you before."