so truthful did the girl's accents
seem to be. Constant visits to the vilest dens, where crime sprouted
from the dunghill of poverty, had made Madame Angelin brave. She was
obliged to close her umbrella when she glided through the breach in the
fence in the wake of the girl, who, slim and supple like a cat, glided
on in front, bareheaded, in her ragged shawl.

"Give me your hand, madame," said she. "Take care, for there are some
trenches.... It's over yonder at the end. Can you hear how he's moaning,
poor brother?... Ah! here we are!"

Then came swift and overwhelming savagery. The three bandits, Alexandre,
Richard, and Alfred, who had been crouching low, sprang forward and
threw themselves upon Madame Angelin with such hungry, wolfish violence
that she was thrown to the ground. Alfred, however, being a coward, then
left her to the two others, and hastened with Toinette to the breach in
order to keep watch. Alexandre, who had a handkerchief rolled up, all
ready, thrust it into the poor lady's mouth to stifle her cries. Their
intention was to stun her only and then make off with her little bag.

But the handkerchief must have slipped out, for she suddenly raised a
shriek, a loud and terrible shriek. And at that moment the others near
the breach gave the alarm whistle: some people were, doubtless, drawing
near. It was necessary to finish. Alexandre knotted the handkerchief
round the unhappy woman's neck, while Richard with his fist forced her
shriek back into her throat. Red madness fell upon them, they both began
to twist and tighten the handkerchief, and dragged the poor creature
over the muddy ground until she stirred no more. Then, as the whistle
sounded again, they took the bag, left the body there with the
handkerchief around the neck, and galloped, all four of them, as far
as the Grenelle bridge, whence they flung the bag into the Seine, after
greedily thrusting the coppers, and the white silver, and the yellow
gold into their pockets.

When Mathieu read the particulars of the crime in the newspapers, he
was seized with fright and hastened to the Rue de la Federation. The
murdered woman had been promptly identified, and the circumstance that
the crime had been committed on that plot of vacant ground but a hundred
yards or so from the house where Norine and Cecile lived upset him,
filled him with a terrible presentiment. And he immediately realized
that his fears were justified when he had to knock three times a