"It is true, monsieur, twelve pills."
"I can account for six pills, and in the box at present there are eight."
"I understand," said Judas, quickly. "Two pills were placed in the box by an unknown. Those two pills contained poison. The poor Melstane took one pill of poison, and died. Monsieur has taken the pills to Monsieur the Dr. Japix to find the other pill."
"You are perfectly right," said Fanks, rather astonished at the rapidity with which the assistant grasped the case.
"Eh, monsieur, I am not blind," replied Judas, shrugging his shoulders; "and now monsieur desires to find the unknown who placed the pills of poison in the box."
"Exactly! And to do so I want you to tell me all you know about Sebastian Melstane's life here," answered Fanks, producing his secretive little note-book.
Monsieur Guinaud looked thoughtfully at the fire, then glanced up at the ceiling, and at length brought his eyes (guileless expression) to rest on the face of Mr. Fanks.
"It is difficult to make the commencement," he said, speaking slowly, as if he weighed every word. "Behold, monsieur, I make the story to myself this way: My poor Sebastian, he is an artist. Eh! not what you call a great artist for the Salon in London, but good in the pictures. Oh! yes, much of the talent. Six months ago, in London, he beholds a pretty lady. It is Mees Mar-rson, the daughter of the very rich monsieur of this town. My friend has the grand passion for the charming mees—eh! I believe it well—and comes to this town to say 'I love you!' Alas, he finds that the too charming mees is to marry the rich Monsieur Sp—Sp—I cannot say your English names."
"Spolger!"
"But certainly that is the name. Yes! she is to marry this rich monsieur; but my brave Sebastian, he mocks himself of that. Here in this house he stays, and I make myself his friendship. He tells me all his love. The father of my charming mees is enraged, and forbids my friend to look, to see, to speak with the beautiful child. But she has a heart, this angel, and loves to distraction the handsome boy, my friend. They meet, they talk, they write the letters, and monsieur the father knows nothing. Then to this pension there comes Monsieur Axton."