Thenceforward--sunk into the lowest depths of vileness, become an
unspeakable cipher of cowardice and servility--she signed endless
lists of crimes which she had never committed. Was she worth the
trouble of burning? Many had given up that idea, but the ruthless
Penitentiary clung to it still. He offered money to a Wizard of
Evreux, then in prison, if he would bear such witness as might bring
about the death of Madeline.

For the future, however, they could use her for other purposes--to
bear false witness, to become a tool for any slander. Whenever they
sought the ruin of any man, they had only to drag down to Louviers or
to Evreux this accursed ghost of a dead woman, living only to make
others die. In this way she was brought out to kill with her words a
poor man named Duval. What the Penitentiary dictated to her, she
repeated readily: when he told her by what marks she should know
Duval, whom she had never seen, she pointed him out and said she had
seen him at the Sabbath. Through her it fell out that he was burnt!

She owned her dreadful crime, and shuddered to think what answer she
could make before God. She was fallen into such contempt that no one
now deigned to look after her. The doors stood wide open: sometimes
she had the keys herself. But where now should she go, object as she
was of so much dread? Thenceforth the world repelled her--cast her
out: the only world she had left was her dungeon.

During the anarchy of Mazarin and his Good Lady the chief authority
remained with the Parliaments. That of Rouen, hitherto the friendliest
to the clergy, grew wroth at last at their arrogant way of examining,
ordering, and burning people. A mere decree of the Bishop had caused
Picart's body to be disinterred and thrown into the common sewer. And
now they were passing on to the trial of Boulle, the curate, and
supposed abettor of Picart. Listening to the plaint of Picart's
family, the Parliament sentenced the Bishop of Evreux to replace him
at his own expense in his tomb at Louviers. They called up Boulle,
undertook his trial themselves, and at the same time sent for the
wretched Madeline from Evreux to Rouen.

People were afraid that Yvelin and the magistrate who had caught the
nuns in the very act of cheating, would be made to appear. Hieing away
to Paris, they found the knave Mazarin ready to protect their knavish
selves. The whole matter was appealed to the King's Council--an
indulgent court, without eyes or