Almost every hour of the day Riche would enter the bedroom and examine the thermometer to make sure that an even temperature was maintained. He had just entered the room and looked at Renée who was sitting down holding Céleste's hand, the picture of abject misery. Renée closed her eyes, her lips trembled while she emitted a half-suppressed sigh, feeling too sad to think or speak. From time to time she put her hand to her head as if she felt a pain there, and heaved a little sigh. All hope seemed extinguished, and left nothing but an empty longing in her heart. And now the sun was eclipsed. Her dream of love had become a ghastly nightmare. A fearful and unknown terror seemed to possess her. "Listen," her heart seemed to say, "listen to the rustling of the wings of the Death-Angel as he hovers over you. You have lost your protector. Pandora's box is empty. Hope, the sole remaining gift, has escaped and fled. There is nothing more to live for. All that remains is black, hopeless despair. Why hesitate any longer? Make away with yourself." With such thoughts of undiluted misery, she lay down on the couch longing for comfort which never came, eager for someone to come and comfort her, and yet at the same time half hoping that she might be left alone. "Oh! Henri, Henri, my beloved, come back, come back to me or I shall die." She felt like a little wounded bird left alone in the nest to perish. The next day Riche, who was somewhat of an electrician, brought in a couple of dry-cell batteries and fixed the wires so that the faintest movement of Delapine's head or limbs would complete the circuit in the wires and ring an alarm. "There," he said to Renée when he had finished, "if the professor moves hand or foot as little as the twentieth part of an inch, the alarm will be heard ringing all over the house, and will continue until the circuit is broken again." Suddenly the alarm bell, which was one of the largest size, rang with an indescribable din. Renée jumped up with a cry, while Céleste, Marcel and Payot came rushing into the room. "What is it, what is it?" they all cried. "Nothing," replied Riche, "I was merely testing the apparatus. See," he continued, "I will move the professor's hand the fraction of an inch." Immediately the gong sounded, and everyone started. Then he tested each limb in the same way, and always with the same result. Next he examined the thermometer which he had placed in Delapine's mouth the day before. It showed a temperature of 75° Fahrenheit. Then he looked at the thermometer on the wall. It showed 70° Fahrenheit. He smiled and gave utterance to an exclamation of pleasure and surprise. "What's the matter, doctor?" asked Renée, sitting up as she watched Riche's face closely. "I have good news--not very good, but still better than nothing. The body is five degrees warmer than the air of the room. If it were only the same temperature it would be a serious matter, but for it to be higher is a very good sign."