she could not live. I thought this was a mere momentary delusion of her own imagination, as it usually happens with such young girls, who are ready to die, forsooth, for the first smooth-faced lad who happens to look kindly upon them. But, in truth, my Madelon became seriously ill, and when I wanted to persuade her out of the foolish fancies that she had taken up, she only answered by repeating your name in a tone of distraction, about an hundred times over. What could I now do, unless I resolved to let her utterly despair? This would have been too harsh, and, yesterday morning, I said to her that I would grant my full and free consent, and that I would, if possible, bring you home with me to-day. So, in the course of one night, she is again become blooming like a rose in June, and now expects you with the utmost impatience."
"I heard no more;—my senses were quite confused and lost, so that, Heaven forgive me, I know not how it happened, but ere long I found myself once more in the house of Cardillac. I heard Madelon's voice—'Olivier! my own Olivier! my beloved—my husband!' With these words she rushed into my arms; and, with the most fervent rapture, I swore by the blessed Virgin and all the saints, that I would never forsake her.'"
Agitated even to tears by the recollection of that decisive moment, Olivier was obliged to pause in his narrative, while de Scuderi was confounded at hearing such imputations against one whom she had always looked upon as a model of regularity and integrity. "This is frightful," cried she; "Rene Cardillac then belonged to that band of invisible miscreants, who have so long haunted our city, so that Paris might be called a mere den of murderers."
"Nay, nay," said Olivier; "speak not of band, for there is not, and never was any such association. It was Cardillac alone, who, with diabolical activity, sought for and found his victims through the whole city. On his being alone, in the practices of these enormities, depended the security with which30
