the midst of low boggy ground; and there was no
house nearer than that of M. Tonno. Martha, bending over her wash-tub,
was making every effort to complete her task, when a fearful cry made
her look up, and there was the child, gripped by one shoulder, in the
jaws of a great she-wolf, the arm that was free extended towards her.
Martha was so close that she managed to clutch a bit of the child's
clothing in one hand, whilst with the other she beat the brute with all
her might to make it let go its hold. But all in vain: the relentless
jaws did not show the slightest sign of relaxing, and with a saturnine
glitter in its deep-set eyes it emitted a hoarse burr-burr, and set off
at full speed towards the forest, dragging the mother, who was still
clinging to the garment of her child, with it.

But they did not long continue thus. The wolf turned into some low-lying
uneven track, and Martha, falling over the jagged trunk of a tree, found
herself lying on the ground with only a little piece of torn clothing
tightly clasped in her hand. Hitherto, comforted by Martha's presence,
the little one had not uttered a sound; but now, feeling itself
deserted, it gave vent to the most heartrending screams--screams that
abruptly disturbed the silence of that lonely spot and pierced to the
depths of Martha's soul. In an instant she rose, and, dashing on,
bounded over stock and stone, tearing herself pitiably, but heeding it
not in her intense anxiety to save her child. But the wolf had now
increased its speed; the undergrowth was thick, the ground heavier, and
soon screams became her only guide. Still on and on she dashed, now
snatching up a little shoe which was clinging to the bushes, now
shrieking with agony as she saw fragments of the child's hair and
clothes on the low jagged boughs obstructing her path. On, on, on, until
the screams grew fainter, then louder, and then ceased altogether.

Late that night the husband, Max, found his wife lying dead, just
outside the grounds of his patron's chateau. Guessing what had happened,
and having but one thought in his mind--namely, revenge--Max, arming
himself with the branch of a tree, marched boldly up to the house, and
rapped loudly at the door.

M. Tonno answered this peremptory summons himself, and demanded in an
angry voice what Max meant by daring to announce himself thus.

Max pointed in the direction of the corpse. "That!" he shrieked; "that
is the reason of my visit. Madame Tonno is