d flung the letter into the fire as directed. Nevertheless, moved by
a singular gleam of caution, she caught a portion of it from the flames,
tore off the five first lines, which compromised no one, and sewed them
into the hem of her dress. Terrified at the thought that the prisoner
had been without food for twenty-four hours, she resolved to carry
bread, meat, and wine to him at once; curiosity was well as humanity
permitting no delay. Accordingly, she heated her oven and made, with
her mother's help, a _pate_ of hare and ducks, a rice cake, roasted two
fowls, selected three bottles of wine, and baked two loaves of bread.
About two in the morning she started for the forest, carrying the load
on her back, accompanied by Couraut, who in all such expeditions
showed wonderful sagacity as a guide. He scented strangers at immense
distances, and as soon as he was certain of their presence he returned
to his mistress with a low growl, looking at her fixedly and turning his
muzzle in the direction of the danger.

Marthe reached the pond about three in the morning, and left the dog
as sentinel on the bank. After half an hour's labor in clearing the
entrance she came with a dark lantern to the door of the cave, her face
covered with a mask, which she had found, as directed, on the steps.
The imprisonment of the senator seemed to have been long premeditated.
A hole about a foot square, which Marthe had never seen before, was
roughly cut in the upper part of the iron door which closed the cave;
but in order to prevent Malin from using the time and patience all
prisoners have at their command in loosening the iron bar which held the
door, it was securely fastened with a padlock.

The senator, who had risen from his bed of moss, sighed when he saw the
masked face and felt that there was no chance then of his deliverance.
He examined Marthe, as much as he could by the unsteady light of her
dark lantern, and he recognized her by her clothes, her stoutness, and
her motions. When she passed the _pate_ through the door he dropped it
to seize her hand and then, with great swiftness, he tried to pull the
rings from her fingers,--one her wedding-ring, the other a gift from
Mademoiselle de Cinq-Cygne.

"You cannot deny that it is you, my dear Madame Michu," he said.

Marthe closed her fist the moment she felt his fingers, and gave him a
vigorous blow in the chest. Then, without a word, she turned away and
cut a stick, at the end of which s