nsequence, but which appeased his scruples as a
magistrate.

The next day, he received the promised letter, which was written, as
well as addressed, in letters cut out of the newspapers. It was as
follows:

* * * * *

"MONSIEUR: Doctor James Ferdinand does not exist, but the man whose
eyes you saw does, and you will certainly recognize his eyes. This
man has committed two crimes, for which he does not feel any
remorse, but, as he is a psychologist, he is afraid of some day
yielding to the irresistible temptation of confessing his crimes.
You know better than anyone (and that is your most powerful aid),
with what imperious force criminals, especially intellectual ones,
feel this temptation. That great poet, Edgar Poe, has written
masterpieces on this subject, which express the truth exactly, but
he has omitted to mention the last phenomenon, which I will tell
you. Yes, I, a criminal, feel a terrible wish for somebody to know
of my crimes, and when this requirement is satisfied, my secret has
been revealed to a confidant, I shall be tranquil for the future,
and be freed from this demon of perversity, which only tempts us
once. Well! Now that is accomplished. You shall have my secret;
from the day that you recognize me by my eyes, you will try and
find out what I am guilty of, and how I was guilty, and you will
discover it, being a master of your profession, which, by the by,
has procured you the honour of having been chosen by me to bear the
weight of this secret, which now is shared by us, and by us two
alone. I say, advisedly, _by us two alone_. You could not, as a
matter of fact, prove the reality of this secret to anyone, unless
I were to confess it, and I defy you to obtain my public
confession, as I have confessed it to you, _and without danger to
myself_."

* * * * *

Three months later, Monsieur de Vargnes met Monsieur X---- at an
evening party, and at first sight, and without the slightest
hesitation, he recognized in him those very pale, very cold, and very
clear blue eyes, eyes which it was impossible to forget.

The man himself remained perfectly impassive, so that Monsieur de
Vargnes was forced to say to himself:

"Probably I am the sport of an hallucination at this moment, or else
there are two pairs of eyes that are per