The steps had never paused and were quickly growing fainter down the road, while the young heart within the basket grew fainter and fainter with the fading sounds.
This temporary hope thus crushed was more cruel than her former despair.
Her bearer uttered a low volley of horrible imprecations directed towards the unknown.
He stopped suddenly, and, unstrapping the basket from his shoulders, placed it on the ground.
Fouchette smelled the morning vapors of the river; discerned now the distinct gurgle of the flood.
As the robber took the rags from the basket and pulled her roughly forth, the full significance of her perilous situation rushed upon her. She trembled so that she could scarcely stand,—would have toppled over the edge of the quai but for the strong arm of le Cochon, who restrained her.
"Not yet, petite," said he.
And he began to strap the basket upon her young shoulders.
"Pardieu! we must regard conventionalities," he added, with devilish malignity.
It was early gray of morning, and a mist hung over the dark waters of the Seine. No attempt had been made to obstruct her vision, which, long habituated to the hour, took in the road, the stone quai, the boats moored not far away, the human monster at her side, all at a single sweeping glance.