They walked along, side by side, followed by the two men.
Their steps made no sound on the moss. Their eyes were gazing ahead in front of them.
Suddenly the doctor, extending his arm, said:
“See, there she is!”
Far ahead of them under the trees they saw something white on which the sun gleamed down through the branches. As they approached they gradually distinguished a human form lying there, its head toward the river, the face covered and the arms extended as though on a crucifix.
“I am fearfully warm,” said the mayor, and stooping down, he again soaked his handkerchief in the water and placed it round his forehead.
The doctor hastened his steps, interested by the discovery. As soon as they were near the corpse, he bent down to examine it without touching it. He had put on his pince-nez, as one does in examining some curious object, and turned round very quietly.
He said, without rising:
“Violated and murdered, as we shall prove presently. This little girl, moreover, is almost a woman—look at her throat.”
The doctor lightly drew away the handkerchief which covered her face, which looked black, frightful, the tongue protruding, the eyes bloodshot. He went on: