ried Louis Besnard. "That is important."

"Mme. Dauvray was, as she always was before a seance, in a feverish
flutter. 'You will help Mlle. Celie to dress, Helene, and be very
quick,' she said; and with an extraordinary longing she added, 'Perhaps
we shall see her tonight.' Her, you understand, was Mme. de Montespan."
And she turned to the stranger and said, "You will believe, Adele,
after tonight."

"Adele!" said the Commissaire wisely. "Then Adele was the strange
woman's name?"

"Perhaps," said Hanaud dryly.

Helene Vauquier reflected.

"I think Adele was the name," she said in a more doubtful tone. "It
sounded like Adele."

The irrepressible Mr. Ricardo was impelled to intervene.

"What Monsieur Hanaud means," he explained, with the pleasant air of a
man happy to illuminate the dark intelligence of a child, "is that
Adele was probably a pseudonym."

Hanaud turned to him with a savage grin.

"Now that is sure to help her!" he cried. "A pseudonym! Helene Vauquier
is sure to understand that simple and elementary word. How bright this
M. Ricardo is! Where shall we find a new pin more bright? I ask you,"
and he spread out his hands in a despairing admiration.

Mr. Ricardo flushed red, but he answered never a word. He must endure
gibes and humiliations like a schoolboy in a class. His one constant
fear was lest he should be turned out of the room. The Commissaire
diverted wrath from him however.

"What he means by pseudonym," he said to Helene Vauquier, explaining
Mr. Ricardo to her as Mr. Ricardo had presumed to explain Hanaud, "is a
false name. Adele may have been, nay, probably was, a false name
adopted by this strange woman."

"Adele, I think, was the name used," replied Helene, the doubt in her
voice diminishing as she searched her memory. "I am almost sure."

"Well, we will call her Adele," said Hanaud impatiently. "What does it
matter? Go on, Mademoiselle Vauquier."

"The lady sat upright and squarely upon the edge of a chair, with a
sort of defiance, as though she was determined nothing should convince
her, and she laughed incredulously."

Here, again, all who heard were able vividly to conjure up the
scene--the defiant sceptic sitting squarely on the edge of her chair,
removing her gloves from her muscular hands; the excited Mme. Dauvray,
so absorbed in the determination to convince; and Mlle. Celie running
from the room to put on the black gown which would not be visible in
the dim light.

"