se from that part of the square where they were
attacking the poisoner. That distant, supplicating cry, tremulous with
horrible alarm, like the last appeal of a man staggering beneath the
blows of his murderers, chilled the soul of Morok in the midst of his
execrable triumph.

"Damnation!" cried the skillful assassin, who had selected drunkenness
and debauchery for his murderous but legal weapons; "it is the voice of
the Abbe d'Aigrigny, whom they have in their clutches!"

CHAPTER XXIII.

THE POISONER.

It is necessary to go back a little before relating the adventure of
Father d'Aigrigny, whose cry of distress made so deep an impression upon
Morok just at the moment of Jacques Rennepont's death. We have said that
the most absurd and alarming reports were circulating in Paris; not only
did people talk of poison given to the sick or thrown into the public
fountains, but it was also said that wretches had been surprised in the
act of putting arsenic into the pots which are usually kept all ready on
the counters of wine-shops. Goliath was on his way to rejoin Morok, after
delivering a message to Father d'Aigrigny, who was waiting in a house on
the Place de l'Archeveche. He entered a wine-shop in the Rue de la
Calandre, to get some refreshment, and having drunk two glasses of wine,
he proceeded to pay for them. Whilst the woman of the house was looking
for change, Goliath, mechanically and very innocently, rested his hand on
the mouth of one of the pots that happened to be within his reach.

The tall stature of this man and his repulsive and savage countenance had
already alarmed the good woman, whose fears and prejudices had previously
been roused by the public rumors on the subject of poisoning; but when
she saw Goliath place his hand over the mouth of one of her pots, she
cried out in dismay: "Oh! my gracious! what are you throwing into that
pot?" At these words, spoken in a loud voice, and with the accent of
terror, two or three of the drinkers at one of the tables rose
precipitately, and ran to the counter, while one of them rashly
exclaimed: "It is a poisoner!"

Goliath, not aware of the reports circulated in the neighborhood, did not
at first understand of what he was accused. The men raised their voices
as they called on him to answer the charge; but he, trusting to his
strength, shrugged his shoulders in disdain, and roughly demanded the
change, which the pale and frightened hostess no longer thought of