gant class of vehicles was still so
recent that a throng of the curious always gathered round it when one
appeared in the streets. And so there was on the present occasion a
gaping crowd round De Montansier's coach on the Pont Neuf, so great as
almost to hinder the horses from getting on. All at once De Scuderi
heard a continuous fire of abuse and cursing, and perceived a man
making his way through the thick of the crowd by the help of his fists
and by punching people in the ribs. And when he came nearer she saw
that his piercing eyes were riveted upon her. His face was pale as
death and distorted by pain; and he kept his eyes riveted upon her all
the time he was energetically working his way onwards with his fists
and elbows, until he reached the door. Pulling it open with impetuous
violence, he threw a strip of paper into De Scuderi's lap, and again
dealing out and receiving blows and punches, disappeared as he had
come. Martiniere, who was accompanying her mistress, uttered a scream
of terror when she saw the man appear at the coach door, and fell back
upon the cushions in a swoon. De Scuderi vainly pulled the cord and
called out to the driver; he, as if impelled by the foul Fiend, whipped
up his horses, so that they foamed at the mouth and tossed their heads,
and kicked and plunged, and finally thundered over the bridge at a
sharp trot. De Scuderi emptied her smelling-bottle over the insensible
woman, who at length opened her eyes. Trembling and shaking, she clung
convulsively to her mistress, her face pale with anxiety and terror as
she gasped out, "For the love of the Virgin, what did that terrible man
want? Oh! yes, it was he! it was he!--the very same who brought you the
casket that awful night." Mademoiselle pacified the poor woman,
assuring her that not the least mischief had been done, and that the
main thing to do just then was to see what the strip of paper
contained. She unfolded it and found these words--

"I am being plunged into the pit of destruction by an evil destiny
which you may avert. I implore you, as the son does the mother whom he
cannot leave, and with the warmest affection of a loving child, send
the necklace and bracelets which you received from me to Master Rene
Cardillac; any pretext will do, to get some improvement made--or to get
something altered. Your welfare, your life, depend upon it. If you have
not done so by the day after to-morrow I will force my way into your
dwelling and kill m