The impression produced upon Martial was so terrible that his hold relaxed and he dropped to the ground.
A ray of pity penetrated his soul, for he vaguely realized the frightful suffering which had been the chastisement of the murderess.
But he desired another glance at the interior of the hovel, and he again lifted himself up to the opening and looked in.
The old woman had disappeared; the young soldier had risen from the table and was talking and gesticulating earnestly. Mme. Blanche and Camille were listening to him with the closest attention.
The two men who were sitting face to face, with their elbows upon the table, were looking at each other; and Martial saw them exchange a significant glance.
He was not wrong. The scoundrels were plotting “a rich haul.”
Mme. Blanche, who had dressed herself with such care, that to render her disguise perfect she had encased her feet in large, coarse shoes that were almost killing her—Mme. Blanche had forgotten to remove her superb diamond ear-rings.
She had forgotten them, but Lacheneur’s accomplices had noticed them, and were now regarding them with eyes that glittered more brilliantly than the diamonds themselves.
While awaiting Lacheneur’s coming, these wretches, as had been agreed upon, were playing the part which he had imposed upon them. For this, and their assistance afterward, they were to receive a certain sum of money.
But they were thinking that this sum was not, perhaps, a quarter part of the value of these jewels, and they exchanged glances that said: