ooning, she closed her eyes, staggered.

He caught her in his arms as she fell. She tried to release herself, but
had not the strength; and he laid her in a chair, while she moaned,
repeatedly:

"Poor man! Poor man!"

Keeping one of his arms under the girl's head, he took a handkerchief in
the other hand and wiped her forehead, which was wet with perspiration,
and her pallid cheeks, down which the tears streamed.

She must have lost consciousness entirely, for she surrendered herself to
Perenna's cares without the least resistance. And he, making no further
movement, began anxiously to examine the mouth before his eyes, the mouth
with the lips usually so red, now bloodless and discoloured.

Gently passing one of his fingers over each of them, with a continuous
pressure, he separated them, as one separates the petals of a flower; and
the two rows of teeth appeared.

They were charming, beautifully shaped, and beautifully white; a little
smaller perhaps than Mme. Fauville's, perhaps also arranged in a wider
curve. But what did he know? Who could say that their bite would not
leave the same imprint? It was an improbable supposition, an impossible
miracle, he knew. And yet the circumstances were all against the girl and
pointed to her as the most daring, cruel, implacable, and terrible of
criminals.

Her breathing became regular. He perceived the cool fragrance of her
mouth, intoxicating as the scent of a rose. In spite of himself, he bent
down, came so close, so close that he was seized with giddiness and had
to make a great effort to lay the girl's head on the back of the chair
and to take his eyes from the fair face with the half-parted lips.

He rose to his feet and went.

CHAPTER EIGHT

THE DEVIL'S POST-OFFICE

Of all these events the public knew only of the attempted suicide of Mme.
Fauville, the capture and escape of Gaston Sauverand, the murder of Chief
Inspector Ancenis, and the discovery of a letter written by Hippolyte
Fauville. This was enough, however, to reawaken their curiosity, as they
were already singularly puzzled by the Mornington case and took the
greatest interest in all the movements, however slight, of the mysterious
Don Luis Perenna, whom they insisted on confusing with Arsene Lupin.

He was, of course, credited with the brief capture of the man with the
ebony walking-stick. It was also known that he had saved the life of the
Prefect of Police, and that, finally, having at his