with whom, and the men, I set forth, and
proceeded as far as the road leading from Miribel
to Romaneche, which passes through the wood.
Here I sat down, declaring I would go no
farther. They tried to persuade me to proceed,
but finding me determined, presently pursued
their way, taking with them the girl.

"I waited two hours. No cry reached my
ears. Still I had a presentiment of something
wrong. The men returned alone, saying they
had left the girl at a farm. As they brought
no clothes with them, I was inclined to believe
their story. We then parted, and I returned
home."

[This was, uo doubt, the unfortunate Marie
Baday.]

"Nothing occurred for two years, during
which I had occasional interviews with my two
friends; at length, in December, 'fifty-eight, I
fell in with them on the Quai de Perrache. They
told me they had something on hand, would I
come? I consented, and they left me;
presently returning with a young girl, with whom
we started by the rail for Montlael. It was
dark when we arrived, and the men, taking me
aside, requested me to guide them to some
secluded spot, indicating the wood of Choisey.
I told them it was too close to the high road;
it would be better to go on farther. Presently
we reached the edge of Montmain wood. That,
I told them, would do.

"They left me seated by the roadside. Soon
I heard one loud scream, about three hundred
yards distant; then profound silence. In a
few minutes the men returned, bringing a silver
watch and some clothes. I told them I had
heard a scream, and asked if she had suffered
much? 'No,' they answered; 'we gave her
one blow on the head, and another in the side,
and that did the business.'

"We knew that the body of Marie Baday
had been found, and it was judged prudent to
bury this new corpse. I therefore ran to my
house for the tools, and at the same time gave
my wife the watch, and the clothes, which were
stained with blood; She asked me whence they
came? Thinking that if I accused others she
would not believe me, and relying, like a fool,
on her discretion, I replied that they had
belonged to a girl I had killed, and was about to
bury, in Montmain wood. I then went back to
my friends, who dug a shallow grave, and
concealed the body, while I sat by."

[This was the victim—never identified—whose
skeleton was exhumed, as before mentioned, on
the thirty-first July, 'sixty-one.]

Dumollard referred to certain other attempts,
which had failed, owing to the suspicions of the
intended victims, and continued:

"I must speak now of this girl, Marie Eulalie
Bussod, whose body lies before us. I accosted
her, one day, on the bridge La Guillotière, and
asked her if she would accept a good place in the
country, offering two hundred francs. She
required two hundred and ten, and we went to the
residence of her sister, to discuss the matter,
where I agreed to her terms. At the end of a
week, I returned and escorted her to the
station at Brotteaux, where I had, in the interim,
desired my two employers to meet me. They
came, and I introduced them to Marie Bussod as
friends and neighbours of mine, wbo would
accompany us some little distance after quitting
the rail.

"It was dark when we reached Montlael, and
I had to act as guide, carrying the girl's trunk.
'What a lovely creature!' whispered one of my
friends to me as we set out.

"I led the way towards the wood Communes
—a wild, retired spot—following a path, almost
obliterated, towards Croix-Martel. Here I hid
the trunk among some bushes, assuring the girl
I would return for it in the morning.

"Somehow, at this point, my courage failed
me. I told my friends I could go no farther:
at the same time, however, pointing out to them
Communes wood, which lay but a few hundred
paces distant. In two hours, the men returned,
bringing some clothes and a pair of gold
earrings, which they gave me for my wife. I
inquired what they had done with the girl? 'Oh,'
said one, 'she got two blows on the head, and
one in the stomach. She made no great out-
cry.' I then went home for a spade, and the
men buried her here, as you see.

"Marie Pichon would inevitably have suffered
the same fate, had not my two employers failed
me at the appointed place. I did not wish to
do her any harm. On the contrary, finding the
men absent, I wished to get rid of her, and, to
frighten her, threw my arms (not a cord, as she
affirms) round her neck. I was glad to see her
run away. 'At least,' I thought, 'they'll not
get this one!'

"Some days later, finding an inquiry on foot,
I judged it prudent to destroy the effects of the
girl Bussod, and those of Pichon, and, assisted
by my wife, buried them accordingly in the wood
des Rouillonnes.

"Now'I have told all. I have nothing more
to add."

It is almost needless to mention that the two
mysterious persons on whom he affected to lay the
burden of these atrocious crimes, had no real
existence. Unable to resist the proof of his own
complicity, Dumollard, as Rush did before him,
saw no hope of escape, save in conjuring up some
individual more guilty than himself.

The account against him, now stood as
follows:

Three women, unknown, murdered and flung
into the Rhône.

Murder of Marie Baday; body found in
Montaverne.

Murder of a girl unknown; skeleton found in
Montmain wood.

Murder of Marie Bassod; body found in
Communes wood.

Attempts at robbery and assassination on the
persons of the women Charlety, Alabert,
Bourgeois, Perrin, Fargat, Michel, Pichon, and three
others, unidentified.

Nor is it to be supposed that he
confessed to all the victims. Without dwelling