rom below and one
from above. The last was a woman and the owner of the dog.

"Mon Dieu! My dear little Tu-tu!" she screamed.

And with a howl of wrath that drowned the piercing voice of poor
little Tu-tu she precipitated herself upon the enemy.

The latter turned her weapon upon the new-comer just as the two men
from below grabbed her. This diversion enabled the infuriated
dog-owner to plant both hands in the enemy's hair, which came off at
the first wrench.

"Oh!" cried Jean.

"It is horrible!" said Mlle. Fouchette, with a shudder.

From where they beheld the tragedy they could not see that the hair
was false.

But the dog-beater was just as angry as if it had been ripped from its
original and virgin pasture, and she uttered a shriek that was heard
around the block and grappled her three assailants.

The whole four, a struggling composite mass of legs and arms, went
rolling down to the next landing surrounded by a special and lurid
atmosphere of oaths.

There they were arrested by the aroused police agents.

Poor little Tu-tu had stopped howling. He was dead,--crushed under the
human avalanche.

"Yes," said Jean, "this is a quiet house."

"Dame!" replied Mlle. Fouchette, "it is like death!"

CHAPTER XVI

An hour later Jean Marot and Mlle. Fouchette were at the foot of the
broad stone steps leading to the Hotel Dieu, the famous hospital
fronting on the plaza of Notre Dame.

"I will wait," he said.

"Yes; I will inquire," she assented. "I was here last night." And
Mlle. Fouchette ran lightly up the steps and entered the palatial
court.

Another woman was hastily walking in the opposite direction. She bent
her head and quickened her steps as if to avoid recognition.

"Why, it is Madeleine!" cried Mlle. Fouchette, throwing herself in the
way.

A face stamped with the marks of dissipation and haggard with watching
was raised to meet this greeting. The one big, round, dark orb gleamed
upon the speaker almost fiercely.

"So you're here again," muttered the one-eyed grisette, in her deep
voice.

"It seems so. I wish to find out how he is."

"What business is it of yours?"

"Oh, come, now, Madeleine; you're all upset. You look worn out. You
have been here all night?"

"Ah, ca! it is nothing. Have I not been up all night more than once?"

"And monsieur----"

"They say he is better."

"You have seen him, then?"

"No; they would not allow me. Besides, there is his sister."

"Is sh