," replied Rouletabille. "But you are right. It is not
wise to suspect anybody. See, watch, wait. There is always time, once
the game is caught, to say whether it is a hare or a wild boar. Listen
to me, then, my good mamma. We must know first what is in the phial.
Where is it?"

"Here it is."

She drew it from her sleeve. He stowed it in his pocket.

"You wish the general a good appetite, for me. I am going out. I will be
back in two hours at the latest. And, above all, don't let the general
know anything. I am going to see one of my friends who lives in
the Aptiekarski pereolek."*

* The little street of the apothecaries.

"Depend on me, and get back quickly for love of me. My blood clogs in my
heart when you are not here, dear servant of God."

She mounted to the general's room and came down at least ten times to
see if Rouletabille had not returned. Two hours later he was around the
villa, as he had promised. She could not keep herself from running to
meet him, for which she was scolded.

"Be calm. Be calm. Do you know what was in the phial?"

"No."

"Arsenate of soda, enough to kill ten people."

"Holy Mary!"

"Be quiet. Go upstairs to the general."

Feodor Feodorovitch was in charming humor. It was his first good night
since the death of the youth of Moscow. He attributed it to his not
having touched the narcotic and resolved, once more, to give up the
narcotic, a resolve Rouletabille and Matrena encouraged. During the
conversation there was a knock at the door of Matrena's chamber. She ran
to see who was there, and returned with Natacha, who wished to embrace
her father. Her face showed traces of fatigue. Certainly she had not
passed as good a night as her father, and the general reproached her for
looking so downcast.

"It is true. I had dreadful dreams. But you, papa, did you sleep well?
Did you take your narcotic?"

"No, no, I have not touched a drop of my potion."

"Yes, I see. Oh, well, that is all right; that is very good. Natural
sleep must be coming back..."

Matrena, as though hypnotized by Rouletabille, had taken the glass from
the table and ostentatiously carried it to the dressing-room to throw it
out, and she delayed there to recover her self-possession.

Natacha continued:

"You will see, papa, that you will be able to live just like everyone
else finally. The great thing was to clear away the police, the
atrocious police; wasn't it, Monsieur Rouletabille?"

"I have alw