with the plaster casts of
the alleyway footprints; everything is identical, the shape of the sole,
the nails in the heel, the worn places--everything."

The judge turned to Coquenil. "Is this true?"

M. Paul nodded. "It seems to be true."

There was a moment of tense silence and then Hauteville said in measured
tones: "It makes a _strong_ chain now. What do you think?"

Coquenil hesitated, and then with a frown of perplexity and exasperation he
snapped out: "I--I haven't had time to think yet."

CHAPTER XI

THE TOWERS OF NOTRE-DAME

It was a distressed and sleepless night that Alice passed after the
torturing scene of her lover's arrest. She would almost have preferred her
haunting dreams to this pitiful reality. What had Lloyd done? Why had this
woman come for him? And what would happen now? Again and again, as
weariness brought slumber, the sickening fact stirred her to
wakefulness--they had taken Kittredge away to prison charged with an
abominable crime. And she loved him, she loved him now more than ever, she
was absolutely his, as she never would have been if this trouble had not
come. Ah, there was her only ray of comfort that just at the last she had
made him happy. She would never forget his look of gratitude as she cried
out her love and her trust in his innocence and--yes, she had kissed him,
her Lloyd, before those rough men; she had kissed him, and even in the
darkness of her chamber her cheeks flamed at the thought.

Soon after five she rose and dressed. This was Sunday, her busiest day, she
must be in Notre-Dame for the early masses. There was a worn place in a
chasuble that needed some touches of her needle; Father Anselm had asked
her to see to it. And this duty done, there was the special Sunday sale of
candles and rosaries and little red guidebooks of the church to keep her
busy.

Alice was in the midst of all this when, shortly before ten, Mother
Bonneton approached, cringing at the side of a visitor, a lady of striking
beauty whose dress and general air proclaimed a lavish purse. In a first
glance Alice noticed her exquisite supple figure and her full red lips.
Also a delicate fragrance of violets.

"This lady wants you to show her the towers," explained the old crone with
a cunning wink at the girl. "I tell her it's hard for you to leave your
candles, especially now when people are coming in for high mass, but I can
take your place, and," with a servile smile, "madame is generous