"Jacques Ferrand!" cried Sarah, "the notary?"
"Yes, what of it?"
"Ten years ago? Fair? With blue eyes?
"Yes."
"Ah, Mon Dieu! Mon Dieu!" cried Sarah, falling on her knees. Suddenly she rose. Hastily opening a secretary, she took from it an ebony casket, which she opened. She took from it diamond necklaces and bracelets, throwing them on the table in her hurry to reach the bottom.
"Is this she?" she cried, producing a small miniature.
"Yes."
Sarah took out paper and pen and began writing.
"Come," she said, "as you dictate, so I write. A written declaration--"
She did not finish. Screech-Owl brought down her arm and her dagger entered Sarah's back between the shoulder-blades. She threw out her hands and fell forward on the table.