me!"

"The money is safe," said Pierre.

"And you can give me a million to-morrow?"

"What do you want of a million?"

"Can you give it to me, that is the question?"

"I can."

Fongereues wrote a few words, and rang the bell.

"Take this letter to Monsieur Fernando de Vellebri, and see that there
is no delay. And now, Pierre, come with me."

CHAPTER XXXIX.

THE AUTOPSY.

In a house opposite the Palais de Justice, two men were talking together
in an attic room. One of these men was seated, the other was standing.
The one who was seated, robust and vigorous, was anxiously questioning a
person, who answered slowly and coldly.

"Then Doctor, you are sure?"

"Have no uneasiness. I know what I am doing."

"You understand that it is for to-morrow, and nothing can be done during
the night. It means, in short, forty hours."

"When I accepted the terrible responsibility which you proposed to me, I
weighed every detail. And once more I bid you have entire confidence in
me and in science, and in the devotion of those who are brothers in a
common cause."

"Forgive me!" repeated the other. "Forgive my anxiety and apparent
distrust."

"I am at your disposal at all times and seasons; if the important moment
be advanced or retarded, be sure that I shall be in readiness."

The two men shook hands cordially, and the Doctor went out. The other
threw himself on a chair, and covering his face with his huge hands,
wept bitterly--wept like a child, did this poor Iron Jaws. Suddenly he
started up, and cried:

"This must succeed! This must succeed!"

He heard hurried steps coming up the stairs, and then a knock at the
door.

"Who is it?"

"Bobichel!"

It was indeed Bobichel, red and much out of breath.

"Well?" asked Gudel.

"Oh! she is an angel! she had been crying when I got there. She brought
me here in her carriage, and she wants to see you."

Gudel strode from the room. On the lower floor he found Irene waiting;
she was pale and dressed in black.

"Ah! sir," she said, anxiety sharpening her voice, "tell me what all
this means!"

"Fanfar is not dead."

The girl swayed to and fro. Gudel caught her, and went on.

"No, he is not dead. I thought you ought to know it."

"Where is he?"

"Ah! dear lady, he lies at this moment in a dark room, and looks as if
he could never again rise."

"Horrible!"

"Yes, in a way, but not so bad when you come to think about it, for
to-morrow Fanfar will be ali