er is no more!... If there have
been moments when I have doubted this, I am now morally certain that he
is dead. Take courage, mademoiselle! Try, try to forget--to--to ..."

Fandor was trembling with emotion: he could not continue. Elizabeth bent
her head, her eyes full of tears. She could not speak. She was overcome
by this cruel dashing to the ground of her hopes. Never, never, to see
her brother again!

An agonising silence reigned.

Fandor was profoundly troubled by this mute grief. He sought in vain for
some word of comfort, of encouragement.

Elizabeth rose to go. The poor girl realised that nothing could be
gained by prolonging the interview. Her one need now was to be alone,
for then she could weep.

Fandor was about to accompany her to the door, when a boy entered:

"Monsieur Fandor, there's a man wishes to speak to you!"

"Say I am not here," replied our journalist: he had no wish to see
strangers just then.

"But Monsieur Fandor, he says he is the keeper of the landing stage of
the passenger boat service, and he comes with reference to the Dollon
affair!"

Both Elizabeth Dollon and Jerome Fandor started. She was trembling. Our
journalist said at once:

"Bring him in then!"

The boy went off, and Fandor turned to the trembling girl.

"Tell me, Mademoiselle Elizabeth, do you feel equal to hearing what
this man has to tell us? It is not improbable that he has seen
something--something it would be best you should not hear--had you not
better avoid it?"

Elizabeth shook her head in the negative. She was collecting all her
forces: she would not remain ignorant of any detail of the terrible
tragedy which had cost her brother so dear:

"I shall be strong enough," she announced firmly.

The boy ushered in the visitor. He looked a good specimen of his class,
a man about forty. On his cap were the gold anchors of those in the
employ of the Paris boat service.

"Monsieur!... Madame!... At your service!" The good fellow was very much
embarrassed:

"Monsieur Fandor," he went on, "you do not know me, but I know you very
well, that I do!... I read your articles every day in _La Capitale_.
They're jolly good! What I say is ..."

Fandor cut short his admirer: "Now tell me what brings you here!"

"Oh, well, here goes! I was reading your article yesterday, about how
Jacques Dollon, no more dead than you or I, had escaped over the roofs
of the Palais de Justice. That made me laugh, because I am the keeper