rrible malady which frightens you so much. In two
days I shall fetch Edouard from his school to celebrate the beginning of
your convalescence, and we will start, at latest, on February 1st.
You are astonished at what I say, but you shall see if I am not a good
doctor, and much cleverer than many who pass for such merely because the
have obtained a diploma."

"Then, doctor, I will place myself in your hands."

"Remember what I say. You will leave this on February 1st."

"To begin this cure, can you ensure my sleeping to-night?"

"Certainly. I will go now, and send my wife to you. She will bring a
draught, which you must promise to take."

"I will exactly follow your prescriptions. Goodnight, my friend."

"Good-night, madame; and take courage;" and bowing low, he left the
room.

The rest of the evening was spent in preparing the fatal medicine. The
next morning, an hour or two after Madame de Lamotte had swallowed it,
the maid who had given it to her came and told Derues the invalid was
sleeping very heavily and snoring, and asked if she ought to be awoke.
He went into the room, and, opening the curtains, approached the bed.
He listened for some time, and recognised that the supposed snoring was
really he death-rattle. He sent the servant off into the country with a
letter to one of his friends, telling her not to return until the Monday
following, February 3rd. He also sent away his wife, on some unknown
pretext, and remained alone with his victim.

So terrible a situation ought to have troubled the mind of the most
hardened criminal. A man familiar with murder and accustomed to shed
blood might have felt his heart sink, and, in the absence of pity, might
have experienced disgust at the sight of this prolonged and useless
torture; but Derues, calm and easy, as if unconscious of evil, sat
coolly beside the bed, as any doctor might have done. From time to time
he felt the slackening pulse, and looked at the glassy and sightless
eyes which turned in their orbits, and he saw without terror the
approach of night, which rendered this awful 'tete-a-tete' even more
horrible. The most profound silence reigned in the house, the street was
deserted, and the only sound heard was caused by an icy rain mixed with
snow driven against the glass, and occasionally the howl of the wind,
which penetrated the chimney and scattered the ashes. A single candle
placed behind the curtains lighted this dismal scene, and the irregular
flic