"Yes, yes, justice!" cried the soldiers, whose irritation, after being checked for a moment, now broke out with renewed violence. The cry broke forth from all parts: "Justice! Or we will do justice ourselves!" "Death to the infamous wretch!" "Death to the man who dishonored his friend's wife!" "Cursed be the name of Victorin!" "Yes, cursed--cursed!" repeated a thousand threatening voices. "Cursed be his name forever!" Pale, calm and imposing, Victoria stopped for a moment before Douarnek, who bent his knee as he addressed her. But when the cries of: "Death to Victorin!" "Cursed be his name!" exploded anew, my foster-sister, whose virile and beautiful countenance betrayed mortal anguish, stretched out her arms with the little child in them, as if the innocent creature implored mercy for its father. It was then that the cries broke forth with fiercest violence: "Death to Victorin! Cursed be his name!" And immediately I perceived my recent traveling companion, recognizable by his cloak and hood, in which he still kept himself closely wrapped, push himself with a menacing air toward Victoria, and shaking his fist at her, cry: "Yes, cursed be the name of Victorin! Let his stock be uprooted!" Saying this the man violently tore the child from Victoria's arms, took it by the two feet, and dashed it with such fury upon the cobble-stones that its head was instantly shattered. The deed of ferocity was done with such brutality and swiftness that, although it aroused instant indignation, neither Douarnek nor any of the soldiers who precipitated themselves upon the hooded man to save the child were in time. The innocent child lay dead and bleeding upon the ground. I heard a heartrending cry escape Victoria, but immediately lost sight of her; fearing that some sort of danger threatened her life, the soldiers speedily surrounded and built with their breasts a wall around their mother. The rumor also reached my ears that, thanks to the tumult which ensued, the perpetrator of the horrible murder had succeeded in making his escape. Presently the ranks of the soldiers opened anew amid mournful silence, and again I perceived Victoria, her face bathed in tears, holding in her arms the now lifeless and bleeding body of Victorin's son. At the sight, I cried out from the threshold of my house to the crowd that was now dumb and in consternation: "You demand justice? Justice has been done. I, Schanvoch, I have killed Victorin myself. He is innocent of my wife's death. Now, withdraw. Allow the Mother of the Camps to enter my house that she may weep over the bodies of her son and grandson." Victoria thereupon said to me in a firm voice as she stood at the threshold of my house: "You killed my son; you were right to avenge the outrage done to you." "Yes," I answered her in a hollow voice, "yes, and in the dark I also killed my wife." "Come, Schanvoch, join me in closing the eyelids of Ellen and Victorin." CHAPTER III. THE MORTUARY CHAMBER.