hen, swiftly, the baron put the ring to his mouth, and sucking
in his breath, swallowed hard.

The detective sprang forward, but it was too late.

"A doctor--quick!" he called to the guard.

"No use!" murmured the rich man, sinking forward.

Coquenil tried to support him, but the body was too heavy for his bandaged
hand, and the prisoner sank to the floor.

"I--I won the last trick, anyhow," the baron whispered as M. Paul bent over
him.

Coquenil picked up the ring that had fallen from a nerveless hand. He put
it to his nose and sniffed it.

"Prussic acid!" he muttered, and turned away from the last horrors.

Two minutes later, when Dr. Duprat rushed in, the Baron de
Heidelmann-Bruck, unafraid and unrepentant, had gone to his last long
sleep. His face was calm, and even in death his lips seemed set in a
mocking smile of triumph.

* * * * *

And so it all ended, as the baron remarked, with virtue rewarded and right
triumphant over wrong. Only the doctors agreed that many a day must pass
before Coquenil could get back to his work, if, indeed, he ever went back
to it. There were reasons, independent of M. Paul's health, that made this
doubtful, reasons connected with the happiness of the lovers, for, after
all, it was to Coquenil that they owed everything; Kittredge owed him his
liberty and established innocence, Alice (we should say Mary) owed him her
memory, her lover, and her fortune; for, as the sole surviving heir of her
mother, the whole vast inheritance came to her. And, when a sweet young
girl finds herself in such serious debt to a man and at the same time one
of the richest heiresses in the world, she naturally wishes to give some
substantial form to her gratitude, even to the extent of a few odd millions
from her limitless store.

At any rate, Coquenil was henceforth far beyond any need of following his
profession; whatever use he might in the future make of his brilliant
talents would be for the sheer joy of conquest and strictly in the spirit
of art for its own sake.

On the other hand, if at any time he wished to undertake a case, it was
certain that the city of Paris or the government of France would tender him
their commissions on a silver salver, for now, of course, his justification
was complete and, by special arrangement, he was given a sort of roving
commission from headquarters with indefinite leave of absence. Best of all,
he was made chevalier of the Legi