those cursed rogues and thieves who
force their way right into the houses, cunningly spying out everything
that may be of use to them in carrying out their infernal plans. And as
for that little casket, Dame Martiniere--I think we'd better throw it
into the Seine where it's deepest. Who can answer for it that there's
not some wicked monster got designs on our good lady's life, and that
if she opens the box she won't fall down dead like old Marquis de
Tournay did, when he opened a letter that came from somebody he didn't
know?"

After a long consultation the two faithful souls made up their minds to
tell their mistress everything next morning, and also to place the
mysterious casket in her hands, for of course it could be opened with
proper precautions. After minutely weighing every circumstance
connected with the suspicious stranger's appearance, they were both of
the same opinion, namely, that there was some special mystery connected
with the matter, which they durst not attempt to control single-handed;
they must leave it to their good lady to unriddle.

Baptiste's apprehensions were well founded. Just at that time Paris was
the scene of the most abominable atrocities, and exactly at the same
period the most diabolical invention of Satan was made, to offer the
readiest means for committing these deeds.

Glaser, a German apothecary, the best chemist of his age, had busied
himself, as people of his profession were in the habit of doing, with
alchemistical experiments. He had made it the object of his endeavour
to discover the Philosopher's Stone. His coadjutor was an Italian of
the name of Exili. But this man only practised alchemy as a blind. His
real object was to learn all about the mixing and decoction and
sublimating of poisonous compounds, by which Glaser on his part hoped
to make his fortune; and at last he succeeded in fabricating that
subtle poison[4] that is without smell and without taste, that kills
either on the spot or gradually and slowly, without ever leaving the
slightest trace in the human body, and that deceives all the skill and
art of the physicians, since, not suspecting the presence of poison,
they fail not to ascribe the death to natural causes. Circumspectly as
Exili[5] went to work, he nevertheless fell under the suspicion of
being a seller of poison, and was thrown into the Bastille. Soon
afterwards Captain Godin de Sainte Croix was confined in the same
dungeon. This man had for a long