"'Golden gnat, I thank you; you have saved me!' cried Gringalet; for, still seated, and tied on the chair, he had seen everything."
"It is true enough, the golden gnat prevented his throat from being cut," cried the prisoners, transported with joy.
"Hooray for the golden gnat!" cried Blue Cap.
"Yes, long live the golden gnat!" repeated several voices.
"Bravo, Pique-Vinaigre and his stories!" said another.
"Stop, then," resumed the patterer, "here's the finest and most terrible part of the story that I had promised you. Cut-in-half had fallen on the ground like lead; he was so drunk that he stirred no more than a log; he was dead drunk, and knew nothing; but, in falling, he came near crushing Gargousse, and had almost broken one of his hind paws. You know how wicked this villainous beast was—rancorous and malicious. He held on to the razor which his master had given him to cut the throat of Gringalet. What does my lovely ape do when he sees his master stretched on his back, immovable as a fried carp, and much at his ease? He sprung upon him, crouched on his breast, with one of his paws stretched the skin of his throat, and with the other—click! he cut his windpipe in a moment, exactly as Cut-in-half had shown him how to operate on Gringalet."
"Bravo!"
"Well done!"
"Long live Gargousse!"
"The little golden gnat forever!"