he not?"

"Don't you put me out so with your questions; let me tell my story my
own way. This morning I says to the widow,'Why,' says I,'I have seen
nothing of Martial these last two or three days. I mark his boat is
still moored,--he don't seem to use it as usual; I suppose he's gone
away a bit? Maybe he's in Paris upon his business?' Upon which the widow
gave me, oh, such a devil's look! So says she,'He's bad a-bed in the
isle, and we don't look for him to get better!' 'Oh, oh!' says I to
myself,'that's it, is it? It's three days since--' Holla! stop, I say!"
cried old Ferot, interrupting himself; "where the deuce are you going?
What is the girl after now?"

Believing the life of Martial in danger from the inhabitants of the
isle, and unable longer to endure the twaddle of the old fisherman, La
Louve rushed, half frantic with rage and fear, towards the banks of the
Seine. Some topographical descriptions will be requisite for the perfect
understanding of the ensuing scene.

The Isle du Ravageur was nearer to the left bank of the river than it
was to the right, from which Fleur-de-Marie and Madame Seraphin had
embarked. La Louve stood on the left bank. Without being extremely high,
the surface of the isle completely prevented those on one side the river
from seeing what was passing on the opposite bank; thus La Louve had
been unable to witness the embarkation of La Goualeuse, while the
Martial family had been equally prevented from seeing La Louve, who, at
that very instant, was rushing in wild desperation along the banks of
the other side of the river.

Let us also recall to the reader, that the country-house belonging to
Doctor Griffon, and temporarily occupied by the Count Saint-Remy was
midway between the land and that part of the shore where La Louve
arrived half wild with apprehension and impatience. Unconsciously she
rushed past two individuals, who, struck with her excited manner and
haggard looks, turned back to watch her proceedings. These two
personages were the Count Saint-Remy and Doctor Griffon.

The first impulse of La Louve, upon learning the danger which threatened
her lover, was to hurry towards the spot from whence the peril
proceeded; but, as she reached the water's edge, she became painfully
sensible of the difficulties that stood in the way of her reaching the
opposite land. As the old fisherman had assured her, she well knew the
folly of expecting any strangers to pass by, and none of the Ma