The cries in the out-house at once increased in number. The people inside had no doubt heard Véronique approach. She hastened her steps.
Though the roof of the out-buildings was gone in places, the walls were thick and solid, with old arched doors strengthened with iron bars. There was a knocking against one of these doors from the inside, while the cries became more urgent:
"Help! Help!"
But there was a dispute; and another, less strident voice grated:
"Be quiet, Clémence, can't you? It may be them!"
"No, no, Gertrude, it's not! I don't hear them! . . . Open the door, will you? The key ought to be there."
Véronique, who was seeking for some means of entering, now saw a big key in the lock. She turned it; and the door opened.
She at once recognized the sisters Archignat, half-dressed, gaunt, evil-looking, witch-like. They were in a wash-house filled with implements; and Véronique saw at the back, lying on some straw, a third woman, who was bewailing her fate in an almost inaudible voice and who was obviously the third sister.
At that moment, one of the first two collapsed from exhaustion; and the other, whose eyes were bright with fever, seized Véronique by the arm and began to gasp:
"Did you see them, tell me? . . . Are they there? . . . How is it they didn't kill you? . . . They are the masters of Sarek since the others went off . . . . And it's our turn next . . . . We've been locked in here now for six days . . . . Listen, it was on the day when everybody left. We three came here, to the wash-house, to fetch our linen, which was drying. And then they came . . . . We didn't hear them . . . . One never does hear them . . . . And then, suddenly, the door was locked on us . . . . A slam, a turn of the key . . . and the thing was done . . . . We had bread, apples and best of all, brandy . . . . We didn't do so badly . . . . Only, were they going to come back and kill us? Was it our turn next? . . . Oh, my dear good lady, how we strained our ears! And how we trembled with fear! . . . My eldest sister's gone crazy . . . . Hark, you can hear her raving . . . . The other, Clémence, has borne all she can . . . . And I . . . I . . . Gertrude . . ."