The next morning the giant went out without giving Yvon any orders, which troubled Finette. At noon he returned without his flock, complaining of the heat and fatigue, and said to the young girl:
"You will find a child, my servant, at the door. Cut his throat, put him into the great pot to boil, and call me when the broth is ready." Saying this, he stretched himself on the bed to take a nap, and was soon snoring so loudly that it seemed like thunder shaking the mountains.
Finette prepared a log of wood, took a large knife, and called Yvon. She pricked his little finger; three drops of blood fell on the log.
"That is enough," said Finette; "now help me to fill the pot."
They threw into it all that they could find—old clothes, old shoes, old carpets, and everything else. Finette then took Yvon by the hand and led him through the three antechambers, where she ran in a mold three bullets of gold, two bullets of silver, and one bullet of copper, after which they quitted the house and ran toward the sea.
"On—the Kerver!" cried Yvon, as soon as he saw himself in the country. "Explain yourself, dear Finette; what farce are we playing now?"
"Let us run—let us run!" she cried; "if we do not quit this wretched island before night, it is all over with us."
"On—the Kerver!" replied Yvon, laughing, "and down with the giant!"
When he had snored a full hour, the giant stretched his limbs, half opened one eye, and cried, "Is it ready?"
"It is just beginning to boil," answered the first drop of blood on the log.