"What are you trying to do?" asked Irène.
"It is simple enough. Instead of poison, Fanfar took a narcotic, and lies as if dead. He will be buried, of course, but we will look out for that, and he will be taken care of."
The shock to Irène was so great that she burst into passionate weeping. Gudel was doing his best to soothe her, when suddenly the door was thrown open and Bobichel rushed in, all pale and dishevelled.
"Oh! master," he cried, "all is lost! There is to be an autopsy. One of the great physicians advises it."
Irène uttered a shriek of agony and dropped on her knees.
"Run!" she cried, "the truth must be made known at once. Oh! save him!"
Gudel tore his hair. Suddenly a thought struck him.
"Who is the physician?"
"Dr. Albant, from the Tuileries."
Iron Jaws reflected. He took Irène's hands in his.