longer that the poor girl was lying in there dead; and each one tried
his best to see where she was.

In vain. The feeble light of the lamp had gone out in the foul air; and
the darkness was frightful.

Nothing could be seen but the reddish glow of the charcoal, which was
slowly going out under a little heap of white ashes in two small stoves.
No one ventured to enter.

But Papa Ravinet had not gone so far to stop now, and remain in the
passage.

"Where is the window?" he asked the concierge.

"On the right there."

"Very well; I'll open it."

And boldly the strange man plunged into the dark room; and almost
instantly the noise of breaking glass was heard. A moment later, and the
air in the room had become once more fit for breathing, and everybody
rushed in.

Alas! it was the death-rattle which M. Ravinet had heard.

On the bed, on a thin mattress, without blankets or bedclothes, lay a
young girl about twenty years old, dressed in a wretched black merino
dress, stretched out at full-length, stiff, lifeless.