he man who had been serving as Fouchette's
footman.

Whereupon his partner and the two agents from the Prefecture who had
been waiting within fell upon the struggling pair.

It was all over in a few seconds.

Yet within that brief period Tartar lay dead from a knife-thrust in
the heart, and the robber was extended alongside of his victim, his
hands securely manacled upon his back.

"Hold on, gentlemen!" broke in M. Podvin at this juncture, having
found his voice for the first time, "what does this mean?"

"It means, my dear Podvin, that this amiable gentleman, who has always
been so handy with his knife, is wanted at the Prefecture----"

"And that you are politely requested to accompany him," added the
other Central man, tapping M. Podvin on the shoulder.

"But, que diable!"

"Come! Madame will conduct the business all right, no doubt, while her
patriot husband serves the State."

"That cursed dog has finished me," growled the prostrate robber.
"C'est egal! I've done for him and F---- If it had only been one of
you, curse you!"

This benevolent wish was addressed to the police agent who was at that
moment engaged in binding up the horrible wound in the man's throat.
Both were drenched with blood, partly from the dog and partly from the
man. Le Cochon had been assisted to a sitting posture, sullen,
revengeful, with murder in his black heart.

All at once his inflamed eyes rested upon something in the doorway. At
first it was but casually, then fixedly, while the bloated face turned
ashen.

He started to rise to his feet, and would have warded off the
apparition with his hands, only they were laced in steel behind him,
then, with a deep groan of terror, pitched forward upon his face,
senseless.

It was Fouchette.

The others turned towards the doorway to see,--there was nothing
there.

Cowering for a few moments in the darkest corner of the carriage, she
had heard the voice of Tartar raised in anger, followed by the tumult.
The latter she had anticipated with fear and trembling. She had
divined at the last moment that these were agents of the police, and
that the object was arrests. The noise of combat roused her fighting
blood, the silence that so soon followed heated her curiosity to the
boiling-point. It was intolerable. Perhaps the agents were being
killed. The suspense was dreadful. She felt that she could not endure
it another second.

The man had ordered her to remain in the carriage. The bli