Chabot turned away with an expression of disgust. "She is a devil," he exclaimed, with a tone of intense hatred in his voice, "she is a fiend in human form!" Richard thought for a moment before replying. "You may be right, citizen," he said, "but to me, at any rate, she seems a quiet, modest girl enough; and my little Jean, he----" "Modest!" interrupted Chabot. "Bah! is it modest to force one's way into a man's bed-room? Is murder, cold-blooded murder, a practice that commends itself to modest persons?" He turned round with an angry snarl. "I tell you," he said, "she is a devil!" The old warder shrugged his shoulders, as he was wont to do when his powers of argument failed him--and argument was not his strong point. "Well," he stoutly reiterated. "I am sorry for her, nevertheless. She is only a girl; so young, so frail, so delicate----" "Delicate!" burst in the indignant Deputy. "Why, after she had murdered Marat--and," he smiled sarcastically, "with what delicacy she performed the deed, eh?--when the porter, Laurent Basse, rushed in to seize her, it was only after twice striking her with a chair that he was able to overpower her. Oh, she is a delicate creature, truly!" For the moment Richard seemed nonplussed. "Well," he replied with determination, "I would not strike any woman with a chair myself. Ask the wife whether I would! Not--" he added, as though to explain this apparent idiosyncrasy of his--"not while the good God has given me two hands for the purpose." "Nonsense!" There was a brief silence, during which Richard's glance fell upon the few pathetic garments so carefully folded upon the narrow bed. "So my poor little prisoner is to die to-day," he murmured sadly. "Yes," answered the Deputy, "and I am glad of it. There is no room in France for such vermin. They must be exterminated, and the sooner the better. I know what I am saying, and I tell you that this woman Corday is a dangerous character. She has others behind her. She is but an accomplice. I am here this evening," he explained, "to try and find out from her the names of her confederates. She would give no satisfactory replies this afternoon, but perhaps, now that the fear of death is upon her, we may be more successful." [Illustration: "AT LAST, TOWARD EVENING, SHE FORCED HER WAY IN"] "Well," affirmed the veteran, with the stubbornness of his class, "whatever you may say, I cannot help pitying the girl. How I am to break the news to little Jean, I don't know!" he added pathetically. "Myself, I shall have no appetite for supper. Poor girl! My heart goes out to her in her time of trouble." "Yes," said Chabot, with a sardonic smile, "and yours is not the only heart, my friend." Richard looked puzzled.