me ten francs to go and gamble with..."

After this funeral oration, Peyrade's two avengers went back to Lydie's
room, hearing Katt and the medical officer from the Mairie on the
stairs.

"Go and fetch the Chief of Police," said Corentin. "The public
prosecutor will not find grounds for a prosecution in the case; still,
we will report it to the Prefecture; it may, perhaps, be of some use.

"Monsieur," he went on to the medical officer, "in this room you will
see a dead man. I do not believe that he died from natural causes; you
will be good enough to make a post-mortem in the presence of the Chief
of the Police, who will come at my request. Try to discover some traces
of poison. You will, in a few minutes, have the opinion of Monsieur
Desplein and Monsieur Bianchon, for whom I have sent to examine the
daughter of my best friend; she is in a worse plight than he, though he
is dead."

"I have no need of those gentlemen's assistance in the exercise of my
duty," said the medical officer.

"Well, well," thought Corentin. "Let us have no clashing, monsieur,"
he said. "In a few words I give you my opinion--Those who have just
murdered the father have also ruined the daughter."

By daylight Lydie had yielded to fatigue; when the great surgeon and the
young physician arrived she was asleep.

The doctor, whose duty it was to sign the death certificate, had now
opened Peyrade's body, and was seeking the cause of death.

"While waiting for your patient to awake," said Corentin to the two
famous doctors, "would you join one of your professional brethren in an
examination which cannot fail to interest you, and your opinion will be
valuable in case of an inquiry."

"Your relations died of apoplexy," said the official. "There are all the
symptoms of violent congestion of the brain."

"Examine him, gentlemen, and see if there is no poison capable of
producing similar symptoms."

"The stomach is, in fact, full of food substances; but short of chemical
analysis, I find no evidence of poison.

"If the characters of cerebral congestion are well ascertained, we
have here, considering the patient's age, a sufficient cause of death,"
observed Desplein, looking at the enormous mass of material.

"Did he sup here?" asked Bianchon.

"No," said Corentin; "he came here in great haste from the Boulevard,
and found his daughter ruined----"

"That was the poison if he loved his daughter," said Bianchon.

"What known poison could p