Some months
since, you rescued a poor girl from poverty, to send her to the country--is
it not so?"
"Yes, to Bouqueval."
"Jealousy and hatred drove me wild. I caused this young girl to be carried
off by the woman of whom I have spoken."
"And she took the unhappy child to Saint Lazare?"
"Where she yet is."
"She is there no longer. Ah! you do not know, madame, the frightful evil
you have caused by tearing this poor child from the retreat where I had
placed her; but--"
"The girl no longer at Saint Lazare?" cried the lady in alarm; "and you
speak of a frightful evil!"
"A monster of cupidity had an interest in her death. They have drowned her,
madame; but answer, you say--"
"My daughter!" cried Sarah, interrupting Rudolph, and rising on her feet,
immovable as a marble statue.
"What does she say? good heavens!" cried Rudolph.
"My child!" repeated Sarah, whose face became livid and frightful from
despair; "they have killed my child!"
"The Goualeuse your child!" repeated Rudolph, recoiling with horror.
"The Goualeuse! yes! that is the name the woman mentioned--this woman
called La Chouette. Dead--dead!" cried Sarah, still motionless, her eyes
fixed and glaring; "they have killed her!"
"Sarah!" replied Rudolph, as pale and alarmed as she, "calm yourself--
answer me--La Goualeuse--this girl whom you caused to be carried off by
La Chouette from Bouqueval, was--"
"Our child!"
"She!"
"And they have killed her.
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