subtle a nature that
if the powder (called by the Parisians _Pondre de Succession_, or
Succession Powder) were prepared with the face exposed, a single
inhalation of it might cause instantaneous death. Sainte Croix
therefore, when engaged in its manufacture, always wore a mask made of
fine glass. One day, just as he was pouring a prepared powder into a
phial, his mask fell off, and, inhaling the fine particles of the
poison, he fell down dead on the spot. As he had died without heirs,
the officers of the law hastened to place his effects under seal.
Amongst them they found a locked box, which contained the whole of the
infernal arsenal of poisons that the abandoned wretch Sainte Croix had
had at command; they also found Brinvillier's letters, which left no
doubt as to her atrocious crimes. She fled to Liege, into a convent
there. Desgrais, an officer of the _Marechaussee_, was sent after her.
In the disguise of a monk he arrived at the convent where she had
concealed herself, and contrived to engage the terrible woman in a love
intrigue, and finally, under the pretext of a secret meeting, to entice
her out to a lonely garden beyond the precincts of the town. Directly
she arrived at the appointed place she was surrounded by Desgrais'
satellites, whilst her monkish lover was suddenly converted into an
officer of the _Marechaussee_, who compelled her to get into the
carriage which stood ready near the garden; and, surrounded by the
police troop, she was driven straight off to Paris. La Chaussee had
been already beheaded somewhat earlier; Brinvillier suffered the same
death, after which her body was burned and the ashes scattered to the
winds.

Now that the monster who had been able to direct his secret murderous
weapons against both friend and foe alike unpunished was out of the
world, the Parisians breathed freely once more. But it soon became
known abroad that the villain Sainte Croix's abominable art had been
handed down to certain successors. Like a malignant invisible spirit,
murder insinuated itself into the most intimate circles, even the
closest of those formed by relationship and love and friendship, and
laid a quick sure grasp upon its unfortunate victims. He who was seen
one day in the full vigour of health, tottered about the next a weak
wasting invalid, and no skill of the physician could save him from
death. Wealth, a lucrative office, a beautiful and perhaps too young a
wife--any of these was sufficient to