It is not clear in the accounts available to me just what particular murders by poison, what attempts at poisoning, and what thefts Hélène was charged with in the indictment at Rennes. Twenty-three poisonings, six attempts, and a number of thefts had been washed out, it may be as well to repeat, by the prescription légale. But from her arrival in Rennes, leaving the thefts out of account, her activities had accounted for the following: In the Rabot household one death (Albert, the son) and three illnesses (Rabot, Mme Rabot, the mother-in-law); in the Ozanne establishment one death (that of the little son), in the hotel of the Roussells one death (that of Perrotte Macé) and one illness (that of the Veuve Roussell); at the Bidards two deaths (Rose Tessier and Rosalie Sarrazin). In this last establishment there was also one attempt at poisoning which I have not yet mentioned, that of a young servant, named Françoise Huriaux, who for a short time had taken the place of Rose Tessier. We thus have five deaths and five attempts in Rennes, all of which could be indictable. But, as already stated, the indictment covered three deaths and three attempts.

   It is hard to say, from verbatim reports of the trial, where the matter of the indictment begins to be handled.

   M. Ozanne said that Hélène, in his house, drank eau de vie in secret, and, to conceal her thefts, filled the bottle up with cider. He discovered the trick, and reproached Hélène for it. She denied the accusation with vigour, and angrily announced her intention of leaving. Mme Ozanne took pity on Hélène, and told her she might remain several days longer. On the Tuesday following the young child became ill. The illness seemed to be a fleeting one, and the father and mother thought he had recovered. On the Saturday, however, the boy was seized by vomiting, and the parents wondered if they should send for the doctor. "If the word was mine," said Hélène, who had the boy on her knees, "and the child as ill as he looks, I should not hesitate." The doctor was sent for about noon on Sunday. He thought it only a slight illness. Towards evening the child began to complain of pain all over his body. His hands and feet were icy cold. His body grew taut. About six o'clock the doctor came back. "My God!" he exclaimed. "It's the croup!" He tried to apply leeches, but the boy died within a few minutes. Hélène hastened the little body into its shroud.

   Hélène, said Ozanne, always talked of poison if anyone left their food. "Do you think I'm poisoning you?" she would ask.

   A girl named Cambrai gave evidence that Hélène, coming away from the cemetery after the burial of the child, said to her, "I am not so sorry about the child. Its parents have treated me shabbily." The witness thought Hélène too insensitive and reproached her.

   "That's a lie!" the accused shouted. "I loved the child!"

   The doctor, M. Brute, gave evidence next. He still believed the child had died of a croup affection, the most violent he had ever seen. The Président questioned him closely on the symptoms he had seen in the child, but the doctor stuck to his idea. He had seen nothing to make him suspect poisoning.

   The Président: "It is strange that in all the cases we have under review the doctors saw nothing at first that was serious. They admit illness and prescribe mild remedies, and then, suddenly, the patients get worse and die."

   M. Victor Rabot was called next. To begin with, he said, Hélène's services were satisfactory. He had given her notice because he found her stealing his wine. Upon this Hélène showed the greatest discontent, and it was then that Mme Rabot fell ill. A nurse was put in charge of her, but Hélène found a way to get rid of her. Hélène had no love for his child. The child had a horror of the servant, because she was dirty and took snuff. In consequence Hélène had a spite against the boy. Hélène had never been seen eating any of the dishes prepared for the family, and even insisted on keeping certain of the kitchen dishes for her own use.

   At the request of his father-in-law Hélène had gone to get a bottle of violet syrup from the pharmacist. The bottle was not capped. His father-in-law thought the syrup had gone bad, because it was as red as mulberry syrup, and refused to give it to his daughter (Mme Rabot).

   Mme Rabot having corroborated her husband's evidence, and told of Hélène's bad temper, thieving, and disorderliness, Dr Vincent Guyot, of Rennes, was called.

   Dr Guyot described the illness of the boy Albert and its result. He then went on to describe the illness of Mme Rabot. He and his confrères had attributed her sickness to the fact that she was enceinte, and to the effect of her child's death upon her while in that condition. A miscarriage of a distressing nature confirmed the first prognosis. But later he and his confrères saw reason to change their minds. He believed the boy had been poisoned, though he could not be certain. The mother, he was convinced, had been the victim of an attempt at poisoning, an opinion which found certainty in the case of Mme Briere. If Mme Rabot's pregnancy went some way in explaining her illness there was nothing of this in the illness of her mother The explanation of everything was in repeated dosing of an arsenical substance.

   The witness had also attended Mme Roussell, of the Bout-du-Monde hotel. It was remarkable that the violent sickness to which this lady was subject for twenty days did not answer to treatment, but stopped only when she gave up taking food prepared for her by Hélène Jegado.

   He had also looked after Perrotte Macé. Here also he had had doubts of the nature of the malady; at one time he had suspected pregnancy, a suspicion for which there were good grounds. But the symptoms that later developed were not consistent with the first diagnosis. When Perrotte died he and M. Revault, his confrère, thought the cause of death would be seen as poison in an autopsy. But the post-mortem was rejected by the parents. His

   M. Morio, the pharmacist of Rennes from whom the violet syrup was bought, said that Hélène had often complained to him about Mme Roussell. During the illness of the Rabot boy she had said that the child was worse than anyone imagined, and that he would never recover. In the matter of the violet syrup he agreed it had come back to him looking red. The bottle had been put to one side, but its contents had been thrown away, and he had therefore been unable to experiment with it. He had found since, however, that arsenic in powder form did not turn violet syrup red, though possibly arsenic in solution with boiling water might produce the effect. The change seen in the syrup brought back from M. Rabot's was not to be accounted for by such fermentation as the mere warmth of the hand could bring about.

   Several witnesses, interrupted by denials and explanations from the accused, testified to having heard Hélène say that neither the Rabot boy nor his mother would recover.

   The evidence of M. Roussell, of the Bout-du-Monde hotel, touched on the illnesses of his mother and Perrotte. He knew nothing of the food prepared by Hélène; nor had the idea of poison occurred to him until her arrest. Hélène's detestable character, her quarrels with other servants, and, above all, the thefts of wine he had found her out in were the sole causes of her dismissal. He had noticed that Hélène never ate with the ether domestics. She always found an excuse for not doing so. She said

   The Veuve Roussell had to be helped into court by her son. She dealt with her own illness and with the death of Perrotte. Her illness did not come on until she had scolded Hélène for her bad ways.

   Dr Revault, confrère of Guyot, regretted the failure to perform a post-mortem on the body of Perrotte. He had said to Roussell that if Perrotte's illness was analogous to cholera it was, nevertheless, not that disease. He believed it was due to a poison.

   The Président: "Chemical analysis has proved the presence of arsenic in the viscera of Perrotte. Who administered that arsenic, the existence of which was so shrewdly foreseen by the witness? Who gave her the arsenic? [To Hélène] Do you know? Was it not you that gave it her, Hélène?"

   At this Hélène murmured something unintelligible, but, gathering her voice, she protested, "I have never had arsenic in my hands, Monsieur le Président -- never!"

   Something of light relief was provided by Jean André, the cabinet-making ostler of Saint-Gilles, he for whose attention Hélène had been a rival with Perrotte Macé.

   "The service Hélène gave was excellent. So was mine. She nursed Perrotte perfectly, but said it was in vain, because the doctors were mishandling the disease. She told me one day that she was tired of service, and that her one wish was to retire."

   "Did you attach a certain idea to the confidence about retiring?"

   "No!" Andre replied energetically.

   You were in hospital. When you came back, did Hélène take good care of you?"

   She gave me bouillon every morning to build me up."

   "The bouillon she gave you did you no harm?"

   " On the contrary, it did me a lot of good."

   "Wasn't the accused jealous of Perrotte -- that good- looking girl who gave you so much of her favour?"

   "In her life Perrotte was a good girl. She never was out of sorts for a moment -- never rubbed one the wrong way."

   "Didn't Hélène say to you that Perrotte would never recover?"

   "Yes, she said that. `She's a lost woman,' she said; `the doctors are going the wrong way with the disease.'

   "All the same," André went on, "Hélène never ate with us. She worked night and day, but ate in secret, I believe. Anyhow, a friend of mine told me he'd once seen her eating a crust of bread, and chewing some other sort of food at the same time. As for me -- I don't know; but I don't think you can live without eating."

   "I couldn't keep down what I ate," Hélène interposed. "I took some bouillon here and there; sometimes a mouthful of bread -- nothing in secret. I never thought of André in marriage -- not him more than another. That was all a joke."

   A number of witnesses, friends of Perrotte, who had seen her during her illness, spoke of the extreme dislike the girl had shown for Hélène and for the liquids the latter prepared for her. Perrotte would say to Hélène, "But you're dirty, you ugly Bretonne!" Perrotte had a horror of bouillon: "Ah -- these vegetable soups! I've had enough of them! It was what Hélène gave me that night that made me ill!" The witnesses did not understand all this, because the accused seemed to be very good to her fellow-servant. At the bedside Hélène cried, "Ah! What can I do that will save you, my poor Perrotte?" When Perrotte was dying she wanted to ask Hélène's pardon.

   A witness telling of soup Hélène had made for Perrotte, which the girl declared to have been poisoned, it was asked what happened to the remainder of it. The Président passed the question to Hélène, who said she had thrown it into the hearth.