Ralph nearly beat a retreat; but that would have been to throw up the sponge and draw on his heels a whole horde of adversaries who would prevent him from resuming the enterprise. Therefore he kept still and trusted to luck. Marescal came into the room, still speaking as he came to the people outside, and in such a fashion as to hide the motionless figure which he wished to be the only person to examine. Ralph remained at a distance, sufficiently hidden by the pile of baskets for Marescal not to see him. The Commissary stopped short and said loudly: “Asleep, are we? Ah, well, my friend, we ought to be able to manage a little chat.” He drew from his pocket an electric torch, pressed the switch and turned the illuminating ray on to the supine form. Only seeing two crossed arms and a hat, he drew the arms aside and tilted the hat up. “I was right,” he muttered in a low voice. “It is a woman—a fair woman! Come on, baby: let’s have a look at your pretty mug.” He took hold of her head rather roughly and turned her face towards him. The sight that met his eyes was so astonishing that he seemed unable to believe the incredible fact. “No, no! I can’t believe it!” he murmured. He looked towards the door of the room. It would never do for any of the others to join him. Then, feverishly, he tore off the hat. The full light of the lamp fell on the face, revealing every feature. “You! You!” he muttered. “But I’m mad! This is incredible! You! You a murderess! You, You!” He bent lower. The prisoner did not stir. Her pale face did not even quiver. “It is you!” muttered Marescal in a breathless voice. “By what miracle? So you’ve murdered a man; and the police have caught you and here you are—you! it’s impossible!” One would have sworn that she was really asleep. Marescal was silent. Was she really asleep? “That’s right, don’t stir,” he said. “I’m going to get these people away and come back. Then, presently, we’ll have a talk. We must go gently indeed, my child.” What did he mean? Was he going to propose some abominable bargain? Ralph guessed that he had not really any fixed plan. This astonishing occurrence had taken him by surprise and he was asking himself what advantage he might expect from it. Marescal drew the hat back over the fair head, pushed all the curls under it, then, opening the blouse, felt in all the pockets of the jacket. He found nothing in them. Then he stood upright and turned to go out; his mind was in such a state of confusion that he never thought to examine the other door of the room. “A queer-looking lad,” he said, joining the group outside. “He certainly isn’t twenty. A young rascal misled by his accomplice.” He went on talking, but in an absent-minded manner which made it clear that his mind was in a whirl and that he needed time to consider the matter.