He took out of his pocket and held in his hand the large open envelope containing, in addition to the remainder of the notes he had brought, the slip he had cut from the newspaper. "Here is the proof that all you have seen is true," he repeated, "with one exception—This lady was alone in the train. It is important that this should be thoroughly understood by you, for to-morrow you will be called upon to testify to the fact."
Madame d'Elphis stiffened into deep attention.
"To-morrow morning," continued Vanderlyn, very deliberately, "one of your regular clients is coming to ask you to assist him to solve a terrible mystery. I will tell you his name—it is Mr. Pargeter, the well-known sportsman. He is coming to ask you to help him to find Mrs. Pargeter, who some days ago mysteriously disappeared. This lady's death, but he does not yet know it, took place while she was travelling—travelling alone. I repeat, Madame, that she was alone—quite alone—on her fatal journey."
Vanderlyn stopped speaking a moment; then his voice lowered, became troubled and beseeching.
"Once you have revealed the truth to Mr. Pargeter,—and he will believe implicitly all you say,—then, Madame, you will not only have accomplished a good action, but a sum, bringing the fee for the séance which is just concluded up to ten thousand francs, will be placed at your disposal by me."
Madame d'Elphis looked long and searchingly at the man standing before her.
"Monsieur," she said, "will you give me your word that the death of Mrs. Pargeter was as this paper declares it to have been—that is to say, a natural death?"
"Yes," answered Vanderlyn, "she knew that she would die in this way—suddenly."
"Then," said the fortune-teller, coldly, "I will do as you desire."
Vanderlyn, following a sudden impulse, put the envelope he held in his hand on the table. "Here is the fee," he said, briefly. "I know that I can trust in your discretion, your loyalty,—may I add, Madame, in your kindness?"