emed an interminable
moment; then, with a strangled cry, Fandor fell into the man's arms, and
was crushed in a strong embrace. Two cries escaped from their lips at
the same moment:

"Juve!"

"Fandor!"

* * * * *

When he came to himself again, Fandor found he was lying in one of the
comfortable leather arm-chairs in Juve's study. His temples and the
lobes of his ears were being bathed with some refreshing liquid: the
commingled scent of ether and eau-de-Cologne was in the air.

When he opened his eyes, it was with difficulty that he could credit the
sight that met them!

Juve, his dear Juve, was bending over him, gazing at him tenderly,
watching his return to consciousness with some anxiety.

Fandor vainly strove to rise: he felt dazed.

"Fandor!" murmured Juve, in a voice trembling with emotion. "Fandor, my
little Fandor. My lad, my own dear lad!"

Oh, yes, this was Juve, his own Juve, whom Fandor saw before him!... He
had aged a little, this dear Juve of his--had gone slightly grey at the
temples: there were some fresh lines on his forehead, at the corners of
his mouth, too; but it was the Juve of old times, for all that!... Juve,
alert, souple, robust, Juve in his full vigour, in the prime of life!
Oh, a living, breathing, fatherly Juve: his respected master and most
intimate friend--restored to him, after mourning the irreparable loss of
him and his incomprehensible disappearance!

While Fandor slowly came to himself, Juve had lessened the disordered
state of his appearance; he had taken off his workman's clothes, and
also the red beard which he had worn, when he ran up against the
journalist in the place de l'Opera.

As soon as Fandor was himself again, not only did he feel intense joy, a
quite wild joy, but he also knew the good of a keen curiosity. Now he
would know why the detective had felt obliged to disappear, officially
at any rate, from Paris life for so long a period.

Protestations of faithful attachment, or unalterable affection poured
from Fandor's excited lips, intermingled with questions: he wanted to
know everything at once.

Juve smiled in silence, and gazed most affectionately at his dear lad.

At last he said:

"I am not going to ask you for your news, Fandor, for I have seen you
repeatedly, and I know you are quite all right.... Why, I do believe you
have put on flesh a little!"

Juve was smiling that enigmatic smile of his.

Fandor grew impat