"I must kill it.

It is too wicked, but it's the Bete du bon Dieu, and, every night, it goes to pray on the tomb of Sainte-Genevieve and nobody dares to touch her, for fear that Mother Angenoux should cast an evil spell on them." "How big is the Bete du bon Dieu ?" "Nearly as big as a small retriever,--a monster, I tell you.

Ah!--I have asked myself more than once whether it was not her that took our poor Mademoiselle by the throat with her claws.

But the Bete du bon Dieu does not wear hobnailed boots, nor fire revolvers, nor has she a hand like that!" exclaimed Daddy Jacques, again pointing out to us the red mark on the wall.

"Besides, we should have seen her as well as we would have seen a man--" "Evidently," I said.