"Come at once and look, Delapine's temperature has risen to 82° Fahrenheit." Villebois jumped out of his chair with a bound. "C'est une merveille," he said as he flew upstairs after Roux who happened to have just called. "Is it really true ... what can it mean?" cried Roux in a state of great excitement. He ran up to the professor and examined the thermometer with impatience. "You are right, doctor, quite right. It stands exactly as you said at 82° F. There can be no doubt about that. But what does it mean?" "Who knows. But it looks favourable, doesn't it? His body is certainly not undergoing any decomposition, and therefore a rise of temperature must imply that the physiological functions of the body are beginning to assert themselves once more in some silent mysterious fashion." The vigil continued day after day without a moment's interruption. Riche and Villebois took turns to relieve Céleste and Renée, but the latter insisted on always sleeping in the room. Often she would get up in the small hours of the morning, and with a night lamp in her hand would examine the thermometers, and bending over the professor would breathe a tender lover's kiss on his lips, and then creep back into bed. Paul took an intense interest in the case, and insisted on Villebois telephoning him every detail often two or three times a day. More than three months had passed away since Delapine first became unconscious, and still no signs of returning life appeared. One day about the middle of January of the following year, Paul happened to call, and going up to Delapine distinctly noticed a slight tremor of the facial muscles. He stood spellbound, and then happening to examine the thermometer found to his surprise that it indicated 90° F. He ran into the library where Villebois and Riche happened to be sitting, and at once communicated the discovery to them. A veritable flutter in the dovecot followed. Telephonic messages were at once sent to Monsieur Biron, Roux, and to several of the most eminent professors and specialists at the various hospitals in Paris, for the mysterious case had become the daily topic of conversation among all the faculty. A great consultation was held in the library among all these learned doctors, and voluminous notes were taken. But although a vast amount of erudition was put forth, no one was able to offer any practical suggestions, and hence nothing came of it. "Mais mon Dieu!" said one of the great men, "what can we do? We can only wait patiently until something happens."