CHAPTER VII.
IN WHICH FATHER LUSTUCRU IS ON THE POINT OF
ACCOMPLISHING HIS PURPOSE, AND MOTHER MICHEL’S
CAT IS IN AN UNPLEASANT PREDICAMENT.
ustucru had fixed the following day for the cruel execution of Moumouth, for he knew that Mother Michel on that day was to carry to the express office a package destined for her sister.
All the forenoon and afternoon Faribole was plunged in the darkest despondency, and when the fatal hour sounded, he was assailed by the irresolutions of the previous day. When Mother Michel, before going out, said to him, "I leave Moumouth in your charge; you must take care of him, and make him play, so that he will not fret too much during my absence," the poor lad felt his heart fail, and his natural loyalty revolted.
"Come, we have not a minute to lose," said Father Lustucru to Faribole; "here is the sack; go look for the beast!"
Faribole once more appealed to the pity of the steward; he was eloquent, he had tears in his voice, he pronounced a most touching plea, but without being able to gain his cause. The executioner was immovable; he insisted on the death of the cat; and the boy, overpowered by this evil spirit, saw himself forced to obey.
Moumouth allowed himself to be enticed into the garden; he followed his treacherous friend with the confidence of the lamb following the butcher, and, at the very moment when he least thought of it, he found himself fastened in the sack that was to be his tomb. Lustucru, who was hiding, appeared suddenly, bearing two enormous cudgels; he handed one to his accomplice, and taking hold of the sack, cried:—"Now!—to work, and no quarter!"
Faribole heard him not; the boy was struck with stupor—his eyes rolled wildly in their sockets, his face was livid, his mouth open, his arms without strength.