ly wrote as follows:

"MR. EDITOR,

"As a witness of the scene that took place at Madame d'A----s's
house last night, allow me to make an important correction. It is
only too true that extra cards were introduced into the pack, but
that they were introduced by M. F---- is not proven, since he was
NOT SEEN to do it. I know that appearances are against him, but
he nevertheless possesses my entire confidence and esteem.

"BARON TRIGAULT."

Meanwhile Madame Ferailleur and her son had exchanged significant
glances. Their impressions were the same. This man could not be an
enemy. When the baron had finished his letter, and had read it aloud,
Pascal, who was deeply moved, exclaimed: "I do not know how to express
my gratitude to you, monsieur; but if you really wish to serve me, pray
don't send that note. It would cause you a great deal of trouble and
annoyance, and I should none the less be obliged to relinquish the
practice of my profession--besides, I am especially anxious to be
forgotten for a time."

"So be it--I understand you; you hope to discover the traitor, and you
do not wish to put him on his guard. I approve of your prudence. But
remember my words: if you ever need a helping hand, rap at my door; and
when you hold the necessary proofs, I will furnish you with the means of
rendering your justification even more startling than the affront." He
prepared to go, but before crossing the threshold, he turned and said:
"In future I shall watch the fingers of the player who sits on my left
hand. And if I were in your place, I would obtain the notes from which
that newspaper article was written. One never knows the benefit that may
be derived, at a certain moment, from a page of writing."

As he started off, Madame Ferailleur sprang from her chair. "Pascal,"
she exclaimed, "that man knows something, and your enemies are his; I
read it in his eyes. He, too, distrusts M. de Coralth."

"I understood him, mother, and my mind is made up. I must disappear.
From this moment Pascal Ferailleur no longer exists."

That same evening two large vans were standing outside Madame
Ferailleur's house. She had sold her furniture without reserve, and was
starting to join her son, who had already left for Le Havre, she said,
in view of sailing to America.

VI.

"There are a number of patients waiting for me. I will drop in again
about midnight. I still have se