e an infuriated animal; and this state may last to
the end of his life, and every minute in it be a space of intolerable
torture. Doctor Hortebise is dead; but the poison upon which he relied
betrayed him, and he suffered agonies for twenty-four hours. Catenac
will fight to the bitter end, but the proofs are against him, and
he will be convicted of infanticide. In Rigal's papers I have found
evidence against Perpignan, Verminet and Van Klopen, who will all
certainly hear something about penal servitude. Nothing has been settled
yet about Toto Chupin, for it must be remembered that he came and gave
himself up."

"And what about Croisenois?"

"His Company will be treated like any other attempt to extort money by
swindling, and the Marquis will be sent to prison for two months, and
the money paid for shares returned to the dupes, and that, I think, is
all that I have to tell you, except that by to-morrow M. Gandelu will
receive back the bills to which his son affixed a forged signature. And
now," continued Lecoq, after a short pause, "the time has come for me to
tell you why, at our first interview, I saluted you as the heir of the
Duke de Champdoce. I had guessed your history, but it was only last
night I heard all the details."

Then the detective gave a brief but concise account of the manuscript
that Paul had read aloud. He did not tell much, however, but passed
lightly over the acts of the Duke de Champdoce and Madame de Mussidan,
for he did not wish Andre to cease to respect either his father or the
mother of Sabine. The story was just concluded as the carriage drew up
at the corner of the Rue de Matignon.

"Get down here," said Lecoq, "and mind and don't hurt your arm."

Andre obeyed mechanically.

"And now," went on Lecoq, "listen to me. The Count and Countess de
Mussidan expect you to breakfast and here is the note they handed to
me for you. Come back to your studio by four o'clock, and I will
then introduce you to your father; but till then, remember, absolute
silence."

Andre was completely bewildered with his unexpected happiness. He walked
instinctively to the Hotel de Mussidan and rang the bell. The intense
civility of the footmen removed any misgivings that he might have left,
and, as he entered the dining-room, he darted back, for face to face
with him was the portrait of Sabine which he had himself painted. At
that moment the Count came forward to meet him with extended hands.

"Diana," said he t