llac's side, as he remained motionless in
his chair. The repeated bathing of his temples with cold water and
the holding of salts to his nose were not able to bring him to
consciousness.

Instead of going to his aid with the others, Bergenheim profited by the
general confusion to lean over the table. He plunged his finger into the
artist's glass, in which a part of the water remained, and then touched
his tongue. Only the notary noticed this movement. Thinking this rather
strange, he seized the glass in his turn and swallowed the few drops
that it contained.

"Heavens!" he exclaimed, in a low voice, to Bergenheim, "I am not
surprised that the bumper asphyxiated him on the spot. Do you know,
Baron, if this Monsieur de Gerfaut had taken anything but water during
the evening, I should say that he was the drunker of the two; or that,
if they were not such good friends, he wished to poison him in order to
stop his talk. Did you notice that he did not seem pleased to hear this
story?"

"Ah! you, too!" exclaimed the Baron angrily, "everybody will know it."

"To take a carafe of kirsch for clear water," continued the notary,
without paying any attention to the Baron's agitation. "The devil! the
safe thing to do is to give him an emetic at once; this poor fellow has
enough prussic acid in his stomach to poison a cow."

"Who is talking of prussic acid and poisoning?" exclaimed the public
prosecutor, running with an unsteady step from one extremity of the
table to the other, "who has been poisoned? I am the public prosecutor,
I am the only one here who has any power to start an investigation. Have
they had an autopsy? Where did they find it? Buried in the fields or the
woods, or floating on the river?"

"You lie! there is no dead body in the river!" exclaimed Bergenheim,
in a thundering voice, as he seized the magistrate by the collar in a
bewildered way.

The magistrate was incapable of making the least resistance when held by
such a vigorous hand and he received two or three shakings. Suddenly the
Baron stopped, and struck his forehead with a gesture common to persons
who feel that their reason has given way under a paroxysm of rage.

"I am crazy," said he, with much emotion. "Monsieur," he added, "I am
very sorry. We really have all taken too much wine. I beg your pardon,
gentlemen. I will leave you a moment--I need some fresh air."

He hurriedly left the room, almost running against the persons who were
carrying Mar