y
poor brother, for I am now absolutely convinced that he also was sent to
sleep and poisoned...."

"And that he is dead! Is that not so?" asked Fandor in a low voice.

Without hesitation, in a tearful voice, Elizabeth repeated:

"And that he is dead. You have given me so many proofs that it is so,
that I can no longer doubt it, alas! But I will take courage, as I
promised you I would. I ought to live, that I may strive to rehabilitate
his memory, and restore to him his reputation as a man of probity, of
honour, to which he is entitled. But directly I begin to think about the
horrible mystery in which I am involved, my very reason seems to
totter--you can understand that, can you not? I don't understand, I
don't know, I can't guess ... oh!..."

"But," interrupted Fandor, "we must seriously consider the situation in
all its bearings. It may cause you atrocious suffering, but you must
summon all your courage, mademoiselle. We must discuss it."

Fandor and Elizabeth had moved away from the terrace, and were now in
the leafy solitudes of the park.

Fandor began:

"There is that paper with its list of names, written in green ink,
mademoiselle! It was a mistake on your part not to attach any importance
to it until you fancied, and perhaps rightly, that someone had tried to
steal it from you. Come now, can you tell me whether this list is still
in your possession, or not?"

Elizabeth shook her head sadly.

"I do not know, I cannot tell! My poor head is so bewildered, and I find
it all the trouble in the world to collect my thoughts. I told you, the
other day, that this list had disappeared from a little red pocket book,
that I had put on the chimney piece of my room at Auteuil. But the more
I think it over, the more doubtful I am.... It seems to me now, that
this list ought to be, must be still--unless it has been stolen
since--in the big trunk, into which I threw, pell-mell, the papers and
books my brother left scattered about his writing table. To be quite
sure about this, we must return to Auteuil.... But perhaps it is
useless; because when I wanted to send it to you some forty-eight hours
ago, I searched everywhere for the wretched thing, and in vain!... I am
not even sure now that I brought it away with me from rue Norvins!"

Fandor gently comforted the distracted girl whose eyes were full of
tears.

"Do not be disheartened. Try rather to put together in your memory what
was written in this paper! You told m