"M. de la Nox breathed on his eyelids again and again; again and again he moved his arms in splendid gestures; again and again he cried:
"'Theophrastus Longuet, awake! Awake! Theophrastus Longuet, awake!'
"Theophrastus did not awake; and our hearts sank and sank; then, at the very moment at which we abandoned hope of his ever awaking, he uttered an appalling groan, opened his eyes, and said quietly:
"'Good-morning. Cartouche is dead,'
"M. de la Nox gasped and said, 'Thank God, the operation has succeeded!'
"Then he began his prayer again: 'In the beginning thou wert the Silence! Æon eternal! Source of Æons!…' Marceline and I were shaking the hands of Theophrastus, and laughing hysterically. In all conscience, the operation had been severe; but now that it was successful we congratulated Theophrastus warmly. We congratulated him on having escaped from his terrible plight at the cost of a bottle of hair-dye. It was not much to pay for the death of Cartouche.
"Then we bade him get up and come with us. We were in a hurry to get out of the house in Huchette Street. It seemed to us as
