t-torch he saw the dead body of a woman. Though the face, which
was swollen and bloated and half eaten away, was unrecognizable,
certain signs, such as the colour and material of clothes, enabled
Simon to identify the French lady whom he had seen with her husband
and children. On stooping, he saw that the left hand had been severed
at the wrist and that two fingers were lacking on the right hand.

"Poor woman!" he faltered. "Unable to remove her rings and bracelets,
the blackguards mutilated her!" And he added. "To think that Isabel
was here, that night, in this hell!"

The corridor which they entered as they followed the sound of
hammering led them astern. At a sudden turning a man appeared, holding
in his hand a lump of iron with which he was striking furiously at the
partition-wall of a cabin. Through the ground-glass panes in the
ceiling filtered a pale white light which fell full upon the most
loathsome face imaginable, a scoundrelly, pallid, cruel face, with a
pair of bloodshot eyes and an absolutely bald skull dripping with
sweat.

"Keep your distance, mates! Everybody do the best he can in his own!
There's plenty of stuff to go round!"

"The old man ain't much of a talker," said the urchin's shrill voice.

The boy had accompanied them and stood, with a bantering air, puffing
great whiffs of smoke. The Indian handed him a fifty-franc note:

"Jim, you have something to tell us. Out with it."

"That's all right," said the boy. "I'm beginnin' to twig this
business. Come along 'ere!"

Guided by the boy, Antonio and Simon passed along other corridors
where they found the same fury of destruction. Everywhere
fierce-looking ruffians were forcing locks, tearing, splitting,
smashing, looting. Everywhere they were seen creeping into dark
corners, crawling on their hands and knees, sniffing out booty and
seeking, in default of gold or silver, bits of leather or scrap-metal
that might prove marketable.

They were beasts of prey, carrion brutes, like those which prowl about
a battlefield. Mutilated and stripped corpses bore witness to their
ferocity. There were no rings left upon the bodies, no bracelets,
watches, or pocket-books; no pins in the men's ties; no brooches at
the women's throats.

From time to time, here and there, in this workyard of death and
hideous theft, the sound of a quarrel arose; two bodies rolling on the
ground; shouts, yells of pain, ending in the death-rattle. Two
plunderers came to grips