have poisoned his two victims with the
microbes of typhoid fever, which he had skillfully cultivated in them,
so as to make the disease incurable, even by the most devoted care and
attention. Why not?

"Do you believe it?" I asked Monsieur de Vargnes. "Absolutely," he
replied. "And the most terrible thing about it is, that the villain is
right when he defies me to force him to confess his crime publicly for I
see no means of obtaining a confession, none whatever. For a moment, I
thought of magnetism, but who could magnetize that man with those pale,
cold, bright eyes? With such eyes, he would force the magnetizer to
denounce himself as the culprit."

And then he said, with a deep sigh:

"Ah! Formerly there was something good about justice!"

And when he saw my inquiring looks, he added in a firm and perfectly
convinced voice:

"Formerly, justice had torture at its command."

"Upon my word," I replied, with all an author's unconscious and simple
egotism, "it is quite certain that without the torture, this strange tale
would have no conclusion, and that is very unfortunate, as far as regards
the story I intended to make of it."

ALLOUMA

I

One of my friends had said to me:--

"If you happen to be near Bordj-Ebbaba while you are in Algeria, be sure
and go to see my old friend Auballe, who has settled there."

I had forgotten the name of Auballe and of Ebbaba, and I was not thinking
of this planter, when I arrived at his house by pure accident. For a
month, I had been wandering on foot through that magnificent district
which extends from Algiers to Cherchell, Orleansville, and Tiaret. It is
at the same time wooded and bare, grand and charming. Between two hills,
one comes across large pine forests in narrow valleys, through which
torrents rush in the winter. Enormous trees, which have fallen across
the ravine, serve as a bridge for the Arabs, and also for the tropical
creepers, which twine round the dead stems, and adorn them with new life.
There are hollows, in little known recesses of the mountains, of a
terribly beautiful character, and the sides of the brooks, which are
covered with oleanders, are indescribably lovely.

But what has left behind it the most pleasant recollections of that
excursion, is the long after-dinner walks along the slightly wooded roads
on those undulating hills, from which one can see an immense tract of
country from the blue sea as far as the chain of the Quarsenis, on wh