"You may retire for the present, but don't leave the house. M. Wilkie will acquaint you with his intentions by and by."

The valet thereupon backed out of the room, bowing profoundly.

"There is a story for you!" exclaimed M. Wilkie as soon as the door was closed. "A robbery of two millions!"

The marquis shook his head, and remarked, gravely: "That's a mere nothing. I suspect something far more terrible."

"What, pray? Upon my word! you frighten me."

"Wait! I may be mistaken. Even the doctor may lie deceived. But you shall judge for yourself." As he spoke, he pulled the bell-rope, and an instant after, the servant announced: "Dr. Jodon."

It was, indeed, the same physician who had annoyed Mademoiselle Marguerite by his persistent curiosity and impertinent questions, at the Count de Chalusse's bedside; the same crafty and ambitious man, constantly tormented by covetousness, and ready to do anything to gratify it--the man of the period, in short, who sacrificed everything to the display by which he hoped to deceive other people, and who was almost starving in the midst of his mock splendor.

M. Casimir was an innocent accomplice, but the doctor knew what he was doing. Interviewed on behalf of the Marquis de Valorsay by Madame Leon, he had fathomed the whole mystery at once. These two crafty natures had read and understood each other. No definite words had passed between them--they were both too shrewd for that; and yet, a compact had been concluded by which each had tacitly agreed to serve the other according to his need.

As soon as the physician appeared, M. de Valorsay rose and shook hands with him; then, offering him an arm-chair, he remarked: "I will not conceal from you, doctor, that I have in some measure prepared this gentleman"--designating M. Wilkie--"for your terrible revelation."

By the doctor's attitude, a keen observer might have divined the secret trepidation that always precedes a bad action which has been conceived and decided upon in cold blood.

"To tell the truth," he began, speaking slowly, and with some difficulty, "now that the moment for speaking has come, I almost hesitate. Our profession has painful exigencies. Perhaps it is now too late. If there had been any of the count's relatives in the house, or even an heir at the time, I should have insisted upon an autopsy. But now----"

On hearing the word "autopsy," M. Wilkie looked round with startled eyes. He opened his lips to interrupt the speaker, but the physician had already resumed his narrative. "Besides, I had only suspicions,"

he said, "suspicions based, it is true, upon strange and alarming circumstances. I am a man, that is to say, I am liable to error. In the kingdom of science it would be unpardonable temerity on my part to affirm----"

"To affirm what?" interrupted M. Wilkie.

The physician did not seem to hear him, but continued in the same dogmatic tone. "The count apparently died from an attack of apoplexy, but certain poisons produce similar and even identical symptoms which are apt to deceive the most experienced medical men. The persistent efforts of the count's intellect, his muscular rigidity alternating with utter relaxation, the dilation of the pupils of his eyes, and more than aught else the violence of his last convulsions, have led me to ask myself if some criminal had not hastened his end."

Whiter than his shirt, and trembling like a leaf, M. Wilkie sprang from his chair. "I understand!" he exclaimed. "The count was murdered--poisoned."

But the physician replied with an energetic protest. "Oh, not so fast!"

said he. "Don't mistake my conjectures for assertions. Still, I ought not to conceal the circumstances which awakened my suspicions. On the morning preceding his attack, the count took two spoonfuls of the contents of a vial which the people in charge could not or would not produce. When I asked what this vial contained, the answer was: 'A medicine to prevent apoplexy.' I don't say that this is false, but prove it. As for the motive that led to the crime, it is apparent at once.

The escritoire contained two millions of francs, and the money has disappeared. Show me the vial, find the money, and I will admit that I am wrong. But until then, I shall have my suspicions."

He did not speak like a physician but like an examining magistrate, and his alarming deductions found their way even to M. Wilkie's dull brain.

"Who could have committed the crime?" he asked.

"It could only have been the person likely to profit by it; and only one person besides the count knew that the money was in the house, and had possession of the key of this escritoire."

"And this person?"

"Is the count's illegitimate daughter, who lived in the house with him--Mademoiselle Marguerite."

M. Wilkie sank into his chair again, completely overwhelmed. The coincidence between the doctor's deposition and M. Casimir's testimony was too remarkable to pass unnoticed. Further doubt seemed impossible.

"Ah! this is most unfortunate!" faltered Wilkie. "What a pity! Such difficulties never assail any one but me! What am I to do?" And in his distress he glanced from the doctor to the Marquis de Valorsay, and then at M. de Coralth, as if seeking inspiration from each of them.

"My profession forbids my acting as an adviser in such cases," replied the physician, "but these gentlemen have not the same reasons for keeping silent."

"Excuse me," interrupted the marquis quickly; "but this is one of those cases in which a man must be left to his own inspirations. The most I can do, is to say what course I should pursue if I were one of the deceased count's relatives or heirs."

"Pray tell me, my dear marquis," sighed Wilkie. "You would render me an immense service by doing so."

M. de Valorsay seemed to reflect for a moment; and then he solemnly exclaimed: "I should feel that my honor required me to investigate every circumstance connected with this mysterious affair. Before receiving a man's estate, one must know the cause of his death, so as to avenge him if he has been foully murdered."

For M. Wilkie the oracle had spoken. "Such is my opinion exactly," he declared. "But what course would you pursue, my dear marquis? How would you set about solving this mystery?"

"I should appeal to the authorities."

"Ah!"

"And this very day, this very hour, without losing a second, I should address a communication to the public prosecutor, informing him of the robbery which is patent to any one, and referring to the possibility of foul play."

"Yes, that would be an excellent idea; but there is one slight drawback--I don't know how to draw up such a communication."

"I know no more about it than you do yourself; but any lawyer or notary will give you the necessary information. Are you acquainted with any such person? Would you like me to give you the address of my business man? He is a very clever fellow, who has almost all the members of my club as his clients."

This last reason was more than sufficient to fix M. Wilkie's choice.

"Where can I find him?" he inquired.

"At his house--he is always there at this hour. Come! here is a scrap of paper and a pencil. You had better make a note of his address. Write: 'Maumejan, Route de la Revolte.' Tell him that I sent you, and he will treat you with the same consideration as he would show to me. He lives a long way off, but my brougham is standing in the courtyard; so take it, and when your consultation is over, come back and dine with me."

"Ah! you are too kind!" exclaimed M. Wilkie. "You overpower me, my dear marquis, you do, upon my word! I shall fly and be back in a moment."

He went off looking radiant; and a moment later the carriage which was to take him to M. Maumejan's was heard rolling out of the courtyard.

The doctor had already taken up his hat and cane.

"You will excuse me for leaving you so abruptly, Monsieur le Marquis,"

said he, "but I have an engagement to discuss a business matter."

"Indeed!"

"I am negotiating for the purchase of a dentist's establishment."

"What, you?"

"Yes, I. You may tell me that this is a downfall, but I will answer, 'It will give me a living.' Medicine is becoming a more and more unremunerative profession. However hard a physician may work, he can scarcely pay for the water he uses in washing his hands. I have an opportunity of purchasing the business of a well-established and well-known dentist, in an excellent neighborhood. Why not avail myself of it? Only one thing worries me--the lack of funds."

The marquis had expected the doctor would require remuneration for his services. Before compromising himself any further, M. Jodon wished to knew what compensation he was to receive. The marquis was so sure of this, that he quickly exclaimed: "Ah, my dear doctor, if you have need of twenty thousand francs, I shall be only too happy to offer them to you."

"Really?"

"Upon my honor!"

"And when can you let me have the money?"

"In three or four days' time."

The bargain was concluded. The doctor was now ready to find traces of any poison whatsoever in the Count de Chalusse's exhumed remains. He pressed the marquis's hand and then went off, exclaiming: "Whatever happens you can count upon me."