La Roulante now stood in front of the door.
"Listen to me," said Francine. "I will forgive you if you let me go now. If you refuse, I will call for aid, and I will denounce you to the police!"
"It is too late, little girl, too late! Your lover was here with you all night!"
Francine uttered a terrific shriek and rushed to the window. She threw it open, and leaning out, cried:
"Help! Help!"
La Roulante immediately seized her and pulled her back. Robeccal ran in. The girl struggled until, breathless and exhausted, she was thrown on the floor.
"Give me that bottle!" said La Roulante.
Robeccal understood, as did poor Francine, who resolutely closed her lips. The man brutally pried them open with his fingers, while the woman poured a teaspoonful down the girl's throat, who in another moment lay unconscious.
Then La Roulante and Robeccal put the room in order, and going out, closed the door and returned to their wine below. They began to play cards, while waiting for the arrival of Frederic, from whom they had received the note.
The weather was still stormy, and about six o'clock Frederic, wrapped in a cloak, arrived. As soon as he rapped on the door the giantess opened it, but barred all passage.