oth in
this world and that which is to come, in order that I may unload mine.
I protest that this is my last will. Done at Paris, the 25th of May,
1672.

"(Signed) Sainte Croix."

This earnest solicitation, instead of insuring respect as was intended,
excited curiosity. The box was opened, and found to contain some
papers, and several vials and powders. The latter were handed to a
chemist for analysis, and the documents were retained by the police,
and opened. Among them was found a promissory note of the Marchioness
de Brinvilliers, for thirty thousand francs, to the order of Sainte
Croix. The other papers were of greater importance, as they implicated
both her and her servant, La Chaussee, in the recent murders. As soon
as she was informed of the death of Sainte Croix, she made an attempt
to gain possession of his papers and the box; but, being refused, she
saw that there was no time to be lost, and immediately quitted. Next
morning the police were on her trail; but she succeeded in escaping to
England. La Chaussee was not so fortunate. Altogether ignorant of the
fatal mischance which had brought his villanies to light, he did not
dream of danger. He was arrested and brought to trial: being put to the
torture, he confessed that he had administered poison to the Messieurs
d'Aubray, and that he had received a hundred pistoles, and the promise
of an annuity for life, from Sainte Croix and Madame de Brinvilliers,
for the job. He was condemned to be broken alive on the wheel, and the
Marchioness was, by default, sentenced to be beheaded. He was executed
accordingly, in March 1673, on the Place de Greve, in Paris.

La Brinvilliers appears to have resided for nearly three years in
England. Early in 1676, thinking that the rigour of pursuit was over,
and that she might venture to return to the Continent, she proceeded
secretly to Liege. Notwithstanding her care, the French authorities
were soon apprised of her return; and arrangements were promptly made
with the municipality of that city, to permit the agents of the French
police to arrest her within the limits of their jurisdiction.
Desgrais, an officer of the marechaussee, accordingly left Paris for
that purpose. On his arrival in Liege, he found that she had sought
shelter within the walls of a convent. Here the arm of the law, long as
it is said to be, could not reach her: but Desgrais was not a man to be
baffled, and he resorted to stratagem to accomplish what force