At length one by one the tired guests departed to their respective rooms.
"Monsieur Payot," said Villebois, "I cannot let you leave to-night. If you don't mind I will make you up a bed in the library."
"Do you mind, colleague," said Riche, "if I sleep in the séance-room."
"My dear Riche, I cannot permit you to sleep in a room with a dead body. Why can't you go to your own room?"
"I am accustomed to be in the presence of death as you know; and my room is all burnt out."
"Oh yes, I forgot that. But won't you have a bed made up here?"
"No, please, doctor, come here a moment," and he drew him aside, "I have my reasons for sleeping in the room with Delapine," and he added something in a whisper.
Villebois opened his eyes widely and nodded.
"Oh! oh! I understand now," he said, looking very alarmed. "Yes, sleep there by all means."
Riche had a bed made up on the floor close by the side of Delapine's body, and turning down the light, got into bed.