“And how is she now?”

“She has come to her senses; that is to say, I suppose so; for M. Noel made me leave the room.  All that I do know is, that a little while ago she was talking, and talking very loudly too, for I heard her.  Ah, sir, it is all the same, very strange!”

“What is strange?”

“What I heard Madame Gerdy say to M. Noel.”

“Ah ha! my girl!” sneered old Tabaret; “so you listen at key-holes, do you?”

“No, sir, I assure you; but madame cried out like one lost.  She said,—­”

“My girl!” interrupted old Tabaret severely, “one always hears wrong through key-holes.  Ask Manette if that is not so.”

The poor girl, thoroughly confused, sought to excuse herself.

“Enough, enough!” said the old man.  “Return to your work:  you need not disturb M. Noel; I can wait for him very well here.”

And satisfied with the reproof he had administered, he picked up the newspaper, and seated himself beside the fire, placing the candle near him so as to read with ease.  A minute had scarcely elapsed when he in his turn bounded in his chair, and stifled a cry of instinctive terror and surprise.  These were the first words that met his eye.

“A horrible crime has plunged the village of La Jonchere in consternation.  A poor widow, named Lerouge, who enjoyed the general esteem and love of the community, has been assassinated in her home.  The officers of the law have made the usual preliminary investigations, and everything leads us to believe that the police are already on the track of the author of this dastardly crime.”

“Thunder!” said old Tabaret to himself, “can it be that Madame Gerdy?—­”

The idea but flashed across his mind; he fell back into his chair, and, shrugging his shoulders, murmured,—­

“Really this affair of La Jonchere is driving me out of my senses!  I can think of nothing but this Widow Lerouge.  I shall be seeing her in everything now.”

In the mean while, an uncontrollable curiosity made him peruse the entire newspaper.  He found nothing with the exception of these lines, to justify or explain even the slightest emotion.

“It is an extremely singular coincidence, at the same time,” thought the incorrigible police agent.  Then, remarking that the newspaper was slightly torn at the lower part, and crushed, as if by a convulsive grasp, he repeated,—­

“It is strange!”

At this moment the door of Madame Gerdy’s room opened, and Noel appeared on the threshold.

Without doubt the accident to his mother had greatly excited him; for he was very pale and his countenance, ordinarily so calm, wore an expression of profound sorrow.  He appeared surprised to see old Tabaret.

“Ah, my dear Noel!” cried the old fellow.  “Calm my inquietude.  How is your mother?”

“Madame Gerdy is as well as can be expected.”

“Madame Gerdy!” repeated the old fellow with an air of astonishment; but he continued, “It is plain you have been seriously alarmed.”