his neighbours would come in; and then
there was that poor lady lying there so deathly pale that it makes me
ill to look at her....'

_Jacques Dollon lives_

The conversation was interrupted by the arrival of the doctor employed
in connection with relief for the poor. The superintendent of police
pointed out to this Dr. Mayran the two inanimate figures. A glance of
the doctor's trained eye sufficed to show him that Madame de Vibray had
been dead for some time. Approaching Jacques Dollon, Dr. Mayran examined
him attentively:

'Will you help me to lift him on to a bed or a table?' he asked. 'It
seems to me that this one is not dead.'

'His bedroom is next to this!' cried Madame Beju. 'Oh, heavens above! If
only the poor young man would recover!'

Silently the doctor, aided by the superintendent and a policeman,
transported young Dollon into the next room.

'Air!' cried the doctor, 'give him air! Open all the windows! It seems
to me a case of suspended animation! There is partial suffocation. This
will probably yield to energetic treatment.'

Whilst good Madame Beju, whose legs were shaking under her, was carrying
out the doctor's orders, the superintendent of police kept watch to see
that nothing was touched. The doctor's attention was concentrated on
Jacques Dollon. Monsieur Agram was searching for some indication which
might throw light on the drama. So far he had been unable to formulate
any hypothesis. Should the moribund painter return to consciousness, the
explanation he could give would certainly clear up the situation. At
this point in the superintendent's cogitations, the doctor called out:

'He lives! He lives! Bring me a glass of water!'

Jacques Dollon was returning to consciousness! Slowly, painfully, his
features contracting as at the remembrance of a horrible nightmare, the
young man stretched his limbs, opened his eyes: he turned a dull gaze on
those about him, a gaze which became one of stupefaction when he
perceived these unknown faces gathered round his bed. His eyes fell on
his housekeeper. He murmured:

'Mme ... Be-ju ... je...,' and fell back into unconsciousness.

'Is he dead?' whispered Monsieur Agram.

The doctor smiled:

'Be reassured, monsieur: he lives; but he finds it terribly difficult to
wake up. He has certainly swallowed some powerful narcotic and is still
under its influence; but its effects will soon pass off now.'

The good doctor spoke the t