was not large enough. If no complications ensue, I
consider that Mme. Mergy's life is saved."

Daubrecq said nothing and sat silent, with his head turned to Lupin.

"Is he looking at me? Are his eyes open or shut?" Lupin asked himself.

It worried Lupin terribly not to see his adversary's eyes, those eyes
hidden by the double obstacle of spectacles and black glasses: weak,
bloodshot eyes, Mme. Mergy had told him. How could he follow the secret
train of the man's thought without seeing the expression of his face? It
was almost like fighting an enemy who wielded an invisible sword.

Presently, Daubrecq spoke:

"So Mme. Mergy's life is saved... And she has sent you to me... I don't
quite understand... I hardly know the lady."

"Now for the ticklish moment," thought Lupin. "Have at him!"

And, in a genial, good-natured and rather shy tone, he said:

"No, monsieur le depute, there are cases in which a doctor's duty
becomes very complex... very puzzling... And you may think that, in
taking this step... However, to cut a long story short, while I was
attending Mme. Mergy, she made a second attempt to poison herself...
Yes; the bottle, unfortunately, had been left within her reach. I
snatched it from her. We had a struggle. And, railing in her fever, she
said to me, in broken words, 'He's the man... He's the man... Daubrecq
the deputy... Make him give me back my son. Tell him to... or else
I would rather die... Yes, now, to-night... I would rather die.'
That's what she said, monsieur le depute... So I thought that I ought
to let you know. It is quite certain that, in the lady's highly nervous
state of mind... Of course, I don't know the exact meaning of her
words... I asked no questions of anybody... obeyed a spontaneous impulse
and came straight to you."

Daubrecq reflected for a little while and said:

"It amounts to this, doctor, that you have come to ask me if I know the
whereabouts of this child whom I presume to have disappeared. Is that
it?"

"Yes."

"And, if I did happen to know, you would take him back to his mother?"

There was a longer pause. Lupin asked himself:

"Can he by chance have swallowed the story? Is the threat of that death
enough? Oh, nonsense it's out of the question!... And yet... and yet...
he seems to be hesitating."

"Will you excuse me?" asked Daubrecq, drawing the telephone, on his
writing-desk, toward him. "I have an urgent message."

"Certainly, monsieur le depute."

Daubrec