TRIUMPH.
A triumph like this was, of course, to be celebrated by La Roulante and
Robeccal after their own fashion. They sat opposite each other at a
table covered with bottles. In the centre lay the bag of gold. As they
talked they played with it, making it up in little piles and arranging
it in figures.
"We will buy a little place in the country, now," said La Roulante, as
she filled her glass.
"Why does the girl sleep like this?" asked Robeccal.
"Oh! it is a secret that I learned some time ago--to make little girls
submissive."
There was a sudden sound, a long, shivering sigh from above stairs.
"Did you hear that?" asked Robeccal, in a startled tone.
"It is nothing!" answered La Roulante, superciliously. "It is only the
girl waking up at last!"
"But she will scream, I am sure!"
"Let her, if she dare!" and the giantess clenched her enormous fist. "I
would crush her to jelly if she did!"
"And then you would lose the twenty thousand francs!"
The woman nodded in a tipsy manner.
"That's so!" she answered. "I had best go and talk to the Princess,
anyway."
Another long sigh.
"I am coming! I am coming!" grunted La Roulante, slowly feeling her way
up the stairs that creaked under her weight. She drew the key from her
pocket with considerable difficulty, and finally succeeded in opening
the door.
The young girl lay in the same position, but she seemed oppressed by a
nightmare, for big tears rolled down her cheeks and sighs rent her
breast.
La Roulante went to the side of the bed.
"Well, my child," she said, endeavoring to soften her harsh voice, "how
are you to-night? Do you want anything?"
Francine's eyelids fluttered, and then slowly opened. A look of terrible
horror came on her face as she beheld this most repulsive creature.
"Where am I?" faintly ejaculated the poor child.
"You are with good friends, who are anxious to make you happy."
Francine frowned. She was evidently trying to remember what had taken
place.
La Roulante grew bolder. She seated herself on the foot of the bed.
"Virtue is a very good thing," she said, "but it neither feeds you nor
clothes you. And it is rather a hard thing to starve and be cold when
you are young, and then die in a hospital when you grow old. If a girl
only realized this, she would never refuse what a nice young fellow
offered!"
Francine started up with a burning face.
"What are you saying?" she cried. "But I do not wish to understand.
Where am I?" She wrung her hands. "I remember now! I was gagged and
carried away. I am not an ignorant child--I know too well the wickedness
of this world, and I understand all. A villain, whose name my lips shall
never pronounce, has placed me in this woman's house." Francine grasped
La Roulante's arm. "Move aside," she said, "let me pass!"
La Roulante now stood in front of the door.
"Listen to me," said Francine. "I will forgive you if you let me go now.
If you refuse, I will call for aid, and I will denounce you to the
police!"
"It is too late, little girl, too late! Your lover was here with you all
night!"
Francine uttered a terrific shriek and rushed to the window. She threw
it open, and leaning out, cried:
"Help! Help!"
La Roulante immediately seized her and pulled her back. Robeccal ran in.
The girl struggled until, breathless and exhausted, she was thrown on
the floor.
"Give me that bottle!" said La Roulante.
Robeccal understood, as did poor Francine, who resolutely closed her
lips. The man brutally pried them open with his fingers, while the woman
poured a teaspoonful down the girl's throat, who in another moment lay
unconscious.
Then La Roulante and Robeccal put the room in order, and going out,
closed the door and returned to their wine below. They began to play
cards, while waiting for the arrival of Frederic, from whom they had
received the note.
The weather was still stormy, and about six o'clock Frederic, wrapped in
a cloak, arrived. As soon as he rapped on the door the giantess opened
it, but barred all passage.
"Have you the money?" she asked.
"Yes, yes--give me the key!"
Talizac threw down a pocketbook, and the giantess, with most exaggerated
respect, pointed to the stairs.
As soon as Talizac had left the lower floor, she turned to Robeccal.
"And now we will make ourselves scarce!"
Hardly had the door closed on their retreating forms than an angry cry
rang through the house. Talizac rushed from Francine's room. The girl
had disappeared.