At length Renée ceased playing, and the company dispersed, afraid lest their presence should break the spell. Silently she glided along, her eyes staring widely open, her hands outstretched before her, and her head turned upwards. She walked upstairs apparently fast asleep, and opening the door of the professor's chamber, proceeded straight to his bed. All the company followed breathlessly, and saw her bend over his form, and clasping him in her arms implanted a long and passionate kiss on his cold lips. Tears streamed down her cheeks and trickled down Delapine's face. The death-like silence was terrible. Not a sound could be heard save the ticking of the clock. One could almost hear her breathing. Finally she left him, and still half unconscious lay down on her bed in a peaceful slumber. No one dared to break the silence, and at length they all passed out of the room one by one to attend to their several occupations, or try and collect their thoughts. A week passed away and then another week, and still Delapine lay unconscious in the same position. Day by day Monsieur Biron called for news. "Yes," said Villebois one morning in answer to his enquiries, "the professor lies there still unchanged in his death-like sleep." "Do you mean to say he is not dead then?" "I cannot tell you," replied Villebois, "but if he is not alive there are no signs of death." "C'est une merveille, I cannot comprehend it," exclaimed Biron, holding up his hands and shrugging his shoulders. "May I be permitted to look at him?" he asked. "With pleasure, monsieur le commissaire." Monsieur Biron entered the chamber of death with a slow and methodical step as became his dignity as an officer of the law, and proceeded to place his hat and stick on a chair. "Yes, who can tell?" he said, shrugging his shoulders, and looking up at the doctor for some reply. "Well, well, we shall see n'est-ce pas?" and he shrugged his shoulders, as if he felt somehow that the law wanted remodelling in order to be able to deal with such cases. After a short pause he rose and shook hands with Villebois in rather a patronising way, and bowing profoundly, left the house in an uncertain frame of mind, but fully convinced that he had performed a most meritorious duty. Another day, a few weeks later, Dr. Roux came in, and taking a careful note of everything, examined the thermometer which perpetually remained in Delapine's mouth. He compared it with the thermometer on the wall, which remained at a constant temperature of about 68° F. He compared the figures with the chart on which the daily temperature was entered. "This is very strange!" he exclaimed, and hastening out of the room he ran downstairs to see Villebois. "Dr. Villebois, are you there? Pray come here at once," he called out breathlessly. "What's the matter?" cried Villebois, laying down his pen, and looking up at Roux who ran up to him and laid his hand on his shoulder in a state of great excitement.