The brigands went down to the ground floor; the key was in the door of Adeline’s room, and they entered. A lamp on the hearth half lighted the room, the window of which opened on the forest. The child’s little bed was placed beside the mother’s, the curtains of which were tightly drawn. Well assured that she who was in the bed was not awake to spy upon their acts, Dufresne went at once to open the shutters, and admitted his companions, who had remained by the window after sawing the bars. “All goes well,” said Dufresne; “let us leave these shutters open, and there will be nothing to interfere with our flight. Edouard, remain here; above all things, no pity if she wakes.--You, my friends, come with me, and I will show you your posts; then Lampin and I will look after the rest.” During Dufresne’s speech, Lampin turned up his sleeves, drew his weapons, and examined the point of his dagger; a tigerish smile gleamed in his eyes, and his hideous face, animated by wine and the anticipation of pillage, seemed to bear with joy the impress of crime. The four brigands departed from the room and Edouard was left alone. On the alert for the slightest noise, he walked constantly from the window to the bed; he listened to see whether anyone passed in the woods, then returned to put his ear to the curtains which concealed the young woman from him. His eyes turned toward the child’s crib; she was not in it. Adeline, more excited than usual, and disturbed by the dull sound she had heard outside her shutters, had taken her daughter and laid her across her breast, when she threw herself fully dressed on her bed. Curious to see the mad woman, Edouard was about to put aside the curtain when a noise from the woods attracted his attention, and he returned to the window. He heard footsteps trampling over the dry branches and crunching the half-frozen snow. The noise drew near, and he heard voices. If they were gendarmes sent in pursuit of them, if they should see the window with the broken bars--Edouard trembled; he softly closed the shutters so that no one could see into the room. He hardly breathed. Despite his precautions, Adeline had waked; she abruptly opened her curtains, half rising. “Is it you? is it you?” she cried in a loud voice. “This miserable creature will betray us,” said Edouard to himself; “her voice will attract those travellers in this direction.--Well! I must do it!” He ran to the bed, dagger in hand; he was about to strike, when he recognized his wife and child.