The girl alone--she alone moved.

Without speaking, without looking, as a bird flies to its young, she sprang to the stairs and fled up them.
The maniacal laugh, the crazy words--a moment only, they heard them: and then the door above, which the poor woman, so long bedridden, had contrived in her frenzy of fear to open, closed on the sounds and stifled them.

But enough had been heard: enough to convince Blondel, enough to justify Basterga, enough to change the fortunes of more than one in the room.

The scholar's eyes met the Syndic's.
"Are you satisfied ?" he asked, in a low voice.
Blondel, breathing hard, nodded.
"You heard ?" He nodded a second time.

He looked scared.
"Then you have enough to burn the old witch and the young one with her!" Basterga replied.