A quarter of an hour passed, half an hour....
Gabriel, moving closer to Lupin, saw that his eyes were shut and that his breath came evenly, like that of a man sleeping. But Lupin said:
"Don't imagine that I'm asleep, youngster. No, people don't sleep at a moment like this. Only I am consoling myself. Needs must, eh?... And then I am thinking of what is to come after.... Exactly. I have a little theory of my own about that. You wouldn't think it, to look at me, but I believe in metempsychosis, in the transmigration of souls. It would take too long to explain, however.... I say, boy ... suppose we shook hands before we part? You won't? Then good-bye. Good health and a long life to you, Gabriel!..."
He closed his eyelids and did not stir again before Mme. Dugrival's return.
The widow entered with a lively step, at a few minutes before twelve. She seemed greatly excited:
"I have the money," she said to her nephew. "Run away. I'll join you in the motor down below."
"But...."
"I don't want your help to finish him off. I can do that alone. Still, if you feel like seeing the sort of a face a rogue can pull.... Pass me the weapon."
Gabriel handed her the revolver and the widow continued:
"Have you burnt our papers?"