ng white sheet. Night had come, and a
large lamp, with a crystal globe, lighted up the gloomy scene.
The doctor, leaning over a water-basin, was washing his hands, when
the old justice of the peace and the detective entered.

"Ah, it's you, Plantat," said the doctor in a suppressed tone;
"where is Monsieur Domini?"

"Gone."

The doctor did not take the trouble to repress a vexed motion.

"I must speak with him, though," said he, "it's absolutely necessary
--and the sooner the better; for perhaps I am wrong--I may be
mistaken--"

M. Lecoq and M. Plantat approached him, having carefully closed
the door. The doctor was paler than the corpse which lay under the
sheet. His usually calm features betrayed great distress. This
change could not have been caused by the task in which he had been
engaged. Of course it was a painful one; but M. Gendron was one
of those experienced practitioners who have felt the pulse of every
human misery, and whose disgust had become torpid by the most
hideous spectacles. He must have discovered something extraordinary.

"I am going to ask you what you asked me a while ago," said M.
Plantat. "Are you ill or suffering?"

M. Gendron shook his head sorrowfully, and answered, slowly and
emphatically:

"I will answer you, as you did me; 'tis nothing, I am already
better."

Then these two, equally profound, turned away their heads, as if
fearing to exchange their ideas; they doubted lest their looks
should betray them.

M. Lecoq advanced and spoke.

"I believe I know the cause of the doctor's emotion. He has just
discovered that Madame de Tremorel was killed by a single blow, and
that the assassins afterward set themselves to disfiguring the body,
when it was nearly cold."

The doctor's eyes fastened on the detective, with a stupefied
expression.

"How could you divine that?" he asked.

"Oh, I didn't guess it alone; I ought to share the honor of the
theory which has enabled us to foresee this fact, with Monsieur
Plantat."

"Oh," cried the doctor, striking his forehead, "now, I recollect
your advice; in my worry, I must say, I had quite forgotten it.

"Well," he added, "your foresight is confirmed. Perhaps not so
much time as you suppose elapsed between the first blow and the
rest; but I am convinced that the countess had ceased to live
nearly three hours, when the last blows were struck."

M. Gendron went to the billiard-table, and slowly raised the sheet,
discovering the head