ed by the gendarmes, followed the main road which here
bordered the river until it reached this lane, into which it turned, and
stumbled over the rugged inequalities of the ground for about a hundred
yards, when it arrived in front of a cottage of extremely modest yet
respectable appearance. This cottage had probably been built by some
little Parisian shopkeeper in love with the beauties of nature; for
all the trees had been carefully cut down. It consisted merely of two
apartments on the ground floor with a loft above. Around it extended a
much-neglected garden, badly protected against midnight prowlers, by
a very dilapidated stone wall about three feet high, and broken and
crumbling in many places. A light wooden gate, clumsily held in its
place by pieces of wire, gave access to the garden.

"It is here," said the women.

The commissary stopped. During his short walk, the number of his
followers had been rapidly increasing, and now included all the
inquisitive and idle persons of the neighbourhood. He found himself
surrounded by about forty individuals burning with curiosity.

"No one must enter the garden," said he; and, to ensure obedience, he
placed the two gendarmes on sentry before the entrance, and advanced
towards the house, accompanied by the corporal and the locksmith.

He knocked several times loudly with his leaded cane, first at the door,
and then successively at all the window shutters. After each blow, he
placed his ear against the wood and listened. Hearing nothing, he turned
to the locksmith.

"Open!" said he.

The workman unstrapped his satchel, and produced his implements. He had
already introduced a skeleton key into the lock, when a loud exclamation
was heard from the crowd outside the gate.

"The key!" they cried. "Here is the key!"

A boy about twelve years old playing with one of his companions, had
seen an enormous key in a ditch by the roadside; he had picked it up and
carried it to the cottage in triumph.

"Give it to me youngster," said the corporal. "We shall see."

The key was tried, and it proved to be the key of the house.

The commissary and the locksmith exchanged glances full of sinister
misgivings. "This looks bad," muttered the corporal. They entered the
house, while the crowd, restrained with difficulty by the gendarmes,
stamped with impatience, or leant over the garden wall, stretching their
necks eagerly, to see or hear something of what was passing within the
cottag