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neighborhood of Montluel — a small town about twelve miles from Lyons, on the road to Geneva — enjoys a tradition ary ill-repute. Across the plain of Valbonne, on which it stands, may be seen the glimmer of two white houses, — the Great and Little Dangerous, — so called from hav ing been in former days the scene of many deeds of lawless violence. The country around is broken, sparsely inhabited, and dotted with patches of dense and sombre woodland, sometimes reaching almost to the dimensions of forests. A better locality no robber could desire. On the 8th of February, 1855, some sports men, threading the thickets of Montaverne, came on the corpse of a young female, cov ered with blood, which had proceeded from six terrible wounds in the head and face. The body was stripped, and had been subjected to gross outrage. A handkerchief, collar, blacklace cap, and a pair of shoes were picked up close at hand. By the aid of these things the deceased was soon identified as Marie Haday, late a servant at Lyons, which city she had quitted three days before. She had stated, as the reason for her departure, that a man from the country had offered her a good situation in the neighborhood, provided she could take it at once. Precisely similar proposals had been made, on the very same day, to another servant-girl, Marie Cart; the agent being a country-looking man, aged about fifty, and having a noticeable scar or swelling on the upper lip. Marie Cart postponed her an swer until the 4th of March, — a circum stance which probably induced the suspected person to address himself, in the interim, to Marie Baday. On the 4th of March the same man called again upon Marie Cart, who finally declined

his offer, but introduced him to a friend of hers, Olympe Alabert, — also a servant, — who, tempted with what she considered an advantageous proposal, closed with it, and left Lyons under the guidance of the sup posed countryman. Night was falling as they entered the wood of Montaverne, in which, a few days before, the body of Marie Baday had been found. Acting on a sudden impulse, induced, perhaps, by the gloomy solitude of the place, the girl quitted her conductor, and sought refuge in a neighbor ing farm. At this point — strange as it seems, con sidering on what a stratum of crime they had touched — the discoveries of the police ended for that time. In the month of September following, a man, answering in every point to the former description, induced a girl, named Josephte Charlety, to accompany him to a pretended situation as a domestic servant, and both left the city together. Their way led through cross-roads, until, night coming on, the girl, — like Olympe Alabert, — oppressed with a nameless terror, fled to the nearest house. On the 31st of October the wolf again visited the fold, and selected Jeanne Bour geois, another-servant girl. But once more an opportune misgiving saved the intended prey. In the succeeding month the wolf made choice of one Victorine Perrin; but on this occasion, being crossed by some travellers, it was the wolf who took to flight, carrying with him the girl's trunk, contain ing all her clothes and money. None of these incidents seemed to have provoked much attention from the authorities, and horrible deeds actually in course of commis sion were only brought to light by the almost