. They were
talking about her as we left the room; he must have come in directly
afterwards, and not until he had learnt all about her, had he spoken of
the business which necessitated his departure at dawn of day, and made
his arrangements with both landlord and ostler for the possession of
the keys of the stable and _porte-cochere_. In short, there was no
doubt as to the murderer, even before the arrival of the legal
functionary who had been sent for by the surgeon; but the word on the
paper chilled every one with terror. Les Chauffeurs, who were they? No
one knew, some of the gang might even then be in the room overhearing,
and noting down fresh objects for vengeance. In Germany, I had heard
little of this terrible gang, and I had paid no greater heed to the
stories related once or twice about them in Carlsruhe than one does to
tales about ogres. But here in their very haunts, I learnt the full
amount of the terror they inspired. No one would be legally responsible
for any evidence criminating the murderer. The public prosecutor shrank
from the duties of his office. What do I say? Neither Amante nor I,
knowing far more of the actual guilt of the man who had killed that
poor sleeping young lady, durst breathe a word. We appeared to be
wholly ignorant of everything: we, who might have told so much. But how
could we? we were broken down with terrific anxiety and fatigue, with
the knowledge that we, above all, were doomed victims; and that the
blood, heavily dripping from the bed-clothes on to the floor, was
dripping thus out of the poor dead body, because, when living, she had
been mistaken for me.

At length Amante went up to the landlord, and asked permission to leave
his inn, doing all openly and humbly, so as to excite neither ill-will
nor suspicion. Indeed, suspicion was otherwise directed, and he
willingly gave us leave to depart. A few days afterwards we were across
the Rhine, in Germany, making our way towards Frankfort, but still
keeping our disguises, and Amante still working at her trade.

On the way, we met a young man, a wandering journeyman from Heidelberg.
I knew him, although I did not choose that he should know me. I asked
him, as carelessly as I could, how the old miller was now? He told me
he was dead. This realization of the worst apprehensions caused by his
long silence shocked me inexpressibly. It seemed as though every prop
gave way from under me. I had been talking to Amante only that very day