squad passed on.

"To the left, boys!" ordered Gevrol; "we will take the Rue d'Ivry, and
then cut through the shortest way to the Rue de Chevaleret."

From this point the expedition became really disagreeable. The way led
through an unfinished, unnamed street, full of puddles and deep holes,
and obstructed with all sorts of rubbish. There were no longer any
lights or crowded wine-shops. No footsteps, no voices were heard;
solitude, gloom, and an almost perfect silence prevailed; and one might
have supposed oneself a hundred leagues from Paris, had it not been for
the deep and continuous murmur that always arises from a large city,
resembling the hollow roar of a torrent in some cavern depth.

All the men had turned up their trousers and were advancing slowly,
picking their way as carefully as an Indian when he is stealing upon his
prey. They had just passed the Rue du Chateau-des-Rentiers when suddenly
a wild shriek rent the air. At this place, and at this hour, such a cry
was so frightfully significant, that all the men paused as if by common
impulse.

"Did you hear that, General?" asked one of the detectives, in a low
voice.

"Yes, there is murder going on not far from here--but where? Silence!
let us listen."

They all stood motionless, holding their breath, and anxiously
listening. Soon a second cry, or rather a wild howl, resounded.