"Christina!"
"But I have n't got it; I have n't got it!" she cried, wringing her hands.
Balthazar, exasperated, sprang to his feet: "But, wretched woman—"
Cornelius silenced him with a gesture, and Christina raised her hands to her forehead.
"Ah!" she said, as she burst into a loud laugh, "when I am mad, this farce will be ended, I suppose?"
And, overcome with emotion, she fell backward, hiding her face in the pillow as if determined not to utter another word.
CHAPTER VIII.
Cornelius dragged Balthazar out of the room; he staggered as though he had been shot. In the other room they found M. Tricamp, who had not been wasting his time. He had been cross-examining the old cook, Gudule, who, most unceremoniously aroused by one of the officers, was still half asleep.
"Come, come, my good woman," remarked M. Tricamp, "control yourself, if you please!"
"Oh, my good master, my good master!" she exclaimed, as Balthazar entered the room accompanied by Cornelius. "What's the matter; they dragged me out of bed, and they are asking me
