Mademoiselle Scuderi could contain herself no longer. "In Christ's
name!" she cried, "what has happened? What is going forward here?" She
hastily opened the carriage-door and stepped out. The crowd made way
for her deferentially; and when she saw that one or two compassionate
women had lifted up the girl, laid her on the steps, and were rubbing
her brow with strong waters, she went up to Desgrais, and with
eagerness repeated her question.

"A terrible thing has happened," said Desgrais. "Rene Cardillac was
found, this morning, killed by a dagger-thrust. His journeyman,
Olivier, is the murderer, and has just been taken to prison."

"And the girl----" "Is Madelon," interrupted Desgrais, "Cardillac's
daughter. The wretched culprit was her sweetheart, and now she is
crying and howling, and screaming over and over again that Olivier is
innocent--quite innocent; but she knows all about this crime, and I
must have her taken to prison too." As he spoke he cast one of his
baleful, malignant looks at the girl, which made Mademoiselle Scuderi
shudder. The girl was now beginning to revive, and breathe again
faintly, though still incapable of speech or motion. There she lay with
closed eyes, and people did not know what to do, whether to take her
indoors, or leave her where she was a little longer till she recovered.
Mademoiselle Scuderi looked upon this innocent creature deeply moved,
with tears in her eyes. She felt a horror of Desgrais and his men.
Presently heavy footsteps came downstairs, those of the men bearing
Cardillac's body. Coming to a rapid decision, Mademoiselle Scuderi
cried out, "I shall take this girl home with me; the rest of the affair
concerns you, Desgrais." A murmur of approval ran through the crowd.
The women raised the girl; every one crowded up; a hundred hands were
proffered to help, and she was borne to the carriage like one hovering
in air, whilst from every lip broke blessings on the kind lady who had
saved her from arrest and criminal trial.

Madelon lay for many hours in deep unconsciousness, but at length the
efforts of Seron---then the most celebrated physician in Paris--were
successful in restoring her. Mademoiselle Scuderi completed what Seron
had commenced, by letting many a gentle ray of hope stream into the
girl's heart, till at length a violent flood of tears, which started to
her eyes, brought her relief, and she was able to tell what had
befallen, with only occasional interruptions, when