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Pasteur. Doctor Roux, Pasteur’s right-hand man,
and later on his successor, saying it looked very
bad indeed, promised to make a post-mortem
immediately and to let me know as soon as
possible. When I came to Avenue des Termes next
day, I found the Russian standing outside the
studio door. He had spent the night with his
friend who had been walking up and down the
whole time in great agitation, till at last he had
fallen asleep in his chair an hour ago. The
Russian had gone to his own room to wash and
on coming back a moment ago had found the
studio door locked from the inside.
“Listen,” he said, as if to excuse himself for
having disobeyed the orders not to leave him a
second, “it is all right, he is still asleep, don’t you
hear his snoring?”
“Help me to break open the door,” I shouted,
“it is not snoring, it is the stertorous breathing
of . . .”
The door gave way and we rushed in the studio.
He was lying on the couch breathing heavily, a
revolver still clutched in his hand. He had shot
himself through the eye. We carried him to my
carriage. I drove full speed to the Hôpital
Beaujon where he was operated on at once by Professor
Labbé. The revolver he had shot himself with
was of smaller calibre than the one I had taken
from him, the bullet was extracted. He was
still unconscious when I left. The same evening
I received a letter from Doctor Roux that the
result of the post-mortem examination was
negative, the dog had not had hydrophobia. I drove
at once to the Hôpital Beaujon. The Norwegian
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