And here they saw little Victor Mathis, with flaming eyes and white face, still standing in silence on the spot where they had left him.

He could have seen nothing distinctly; but the thud of the knife was still echoing in his brain.

A policeman at last gave him a push, and told him to move on.

At this he looked the policeman in the face, stirred by sudden rage and ready to strangle him.

Then, however, he quietly walked away, ascending the Rue de la Roquette, atop of which the lofty foliage of Pere-Lachaise could be seen, beneath the rising sun.
The brothers meantime fell upon a scene of explanations, which they heard without wishing to do so.