"Good Lord! he's a Hercules! You must tackle him, Pinguet," said the corporal, addressing the soldier we have hitherto called the Limousin.
"All right," said the latter, jumping up; "we'll see about it."
Trigaud, taking no notice of the words or actions of Pinguet, continued his exercises. He seized two soldiers by the straps of their knapsacks, gently raised and held them aloft at arm's-length for a few seconds, and then as gently put them down, with perfect ease.
The soldiers cheered him loudly.
"Pinguet! Pinguet!" they cried, "where are you? Here's some one who can knock you into a cocked-hat."
Trigaud continued his performances as if these experiments on his strength were a pre-arranged matter. He invited two other soldiers to seat themselves astride of the shoulders of the first two, and he carried all four with almost as much ease as if there were but two. As he put them down, Pinguet arrived with a gun on each shoulder.
"Bravo, Limousin! bravo!" cried the soldiers.
Encouraged by the acclamations of his comrades, Pinguet cried out:--
"All that is mountebank business. Here, you braggart, let me see you do what I am going to do."
Putting a finger of each hand into the muzzle of a gun, he held the weapons out before him, at arm's-length.