any poisonous exhalations that might rise up from the
mixture, suddenly dropped off, and Sainte-Croix dropped to the ground as
though felled by a lightning stroke. At supper-time, his wife finding
that he did not come out from his closet where he was shut in, knocked at
the door, and received no answer; knowing that her husband was wont to
busy himself with dark and mysterious matters, she feared some disaster
had occurred. She called her servants, who broke in the door. Then she
found Sainte-Croix stretched out beside the furnace, the broken glass
lying by his side. It was impossible to deceive the public as to the
circumstances of this strange and sudden death: the servants had seen the
corpse, and they talked. The commissary Picard was ordered to affix the
seals, and all the widow could do was to remove the furnace and the
fragments of the glass mask.

The noise of the event soon spread all over Paris. Sainte-Croix was
extremely well known, and the, news that he was about to purchase a post
in the court had made him known even more widely. Lachaussee was one of
the first to learn of his master's death; and hearing that a seal had
been set upon his room, he hastened to put in an objection in these
terms:

"Objection of Lachaussee, who asserts that for seven years he was in the
service of the deceased; that he had given into his charge, two years
earlier, 100 pistoles and 200 white crowns, which should be found in a
cloth bag under the closet window, and in the same a paper stating that
the said sum belonged to him, together with the transfer of 300 livres
owed to him by the late M. d'Aubray, councillor; the said transfer made
by him at Laserre, together with three receipts from his master of
apprenticeship, 100 livres each: these moneys and papers he claims."

To Lachaussee the reply was given that he must wait till the day when the
seals were broken, and then if all was as he said, his property would be
returned.

But Lachaussee was not the only person who was agitated about the death
of Sainte-Croix. The, marquise, who was familiar with all the secrets of
this fatal closet, had hurried to the commissary as 2496 soon as she
heard of the event, and although it was ten o'clock at night had demanded
to speak with him. But he had replied by his head clerk, Pierre Frater,
that he was in bed; the marquise insisted, begging them to rouse him up,
for she wanted a box that she could not allow to have opened. The