doctor, the first that comes--and a priest. We can't let the poor man--"

Don Luis raised his arm to demand silence.

"There is nothing more to be done," he said. "We shall do better to
make the most of these last moments. Have I your permission, Monsieur
le Préfet?"

He bent over the dying man, laid the swaying head against the back of the
chair, and, in a very gentle voice, whispered:

"Vérot, it's Monsieur le Préfet speaking to you. We should like a few
particulars about what is to take place to-night. Do you hear me, Vérot?
If you hear me, close your eyelids."

The eyelids were lowered. But was it not merely chance? Don Luis went on:

"You have found the heirs of the Roussel sisters, that much we know; and
it is two of those heirs who are threatened with death. The double murder
is to be committed to-night. But what we do not know is the name of those
heirs, who are doubtless not called Roussel. You must tell us the name.

"Listen to me: you wrote on a memorandum pad three letters which seem to
form the syllable Fau.... Am I right? Is this the first syllable of a
name? Which is the next letter after those three? Close your eyes when I
mention the right letter. Is it 'b?' Is it 'c?'"

But there was now not a flicker in the inspector's pallid face. The head
dropped heavily on the chest. Vérot gave two or three sighs, his frame
shook with one great shiver, and he moved no more.