"Almost bereft by extreme intoxication of the power of speech, he continued to gaze on the shrinking child with eyes full of dreadful meaning, though his tongue was unable to declare the murderous designs he meditated. Never had the poor boy endured such horror at the sight of his master. Gargousse was chained as usual to the foot of the bed, and in the middle of the room stood a chair, from the back of which hung a strong cord. 'S—s—sit down—there!' cried the tyrant, as he pointed to the seat. Gringalet obeyed in silence, and Cut-in-Half, without another word, twisted the rope around him, and finally secured him in the chair so firmly that, even if poor Gringalet had dared to struggle, it would have been impossible for him to have extricated himself. 'Great and good God!' murmured the wretched child, 'this time no one will come to deliver me from my danger!' And the poor little fellow was right, for, indeed, it was utterly impossible, and for this reason, that no sooner had Le Doyen gone away with the idea of all being comfortably arranged between the boy and his master than Cut-in-Half hastened to double-lock and bolt the entrance to his premises, so that no person could gain admission without his knowledge."
"Oh, poor little Gringalet!" exclaimed all the prisoners, deeply excited by the recital, "it's all up with him, that's quite sure."
"I'd give my last franc-piece to get him out of the hands of that blackguard—that I would!" cried a multitude of voices, as though one unanimous sympathy actuated each breast.
"I wonder what that beggar of a Cut-in-Half is going to do with the poor little chap!" added they, in almost breathless interest; "come, push on, and let's hear."
Pique-Vinaigre continued:
"When Gringalet was well secured in the chair, his master said to him" (and here the narrator imitated most naturally the thick speech and stammering tones of a drunken man): 'Ah—you scoundrel!—you—you are the—cause of—my being thrashed by Le Doyen!—you shall—die—for it—you shall—you—young—devil!' Then he took from his pocket a freshly sharpened razor, opened it, and seized Gringalet by the hair of his head. At the sight of the razor the child began to weep. 'Pardon, master! Pardon! Do not kill me!' 'Cry away, you infernal brat! You shall not cry long!' replied Cut-in-Half. 'Golden fly, golden fly, come to my help!' exclaimed poor Gringalet, almost mad, and remembering the dream that had had such an effect upon him, 'for the spider is going to kill me!' 'What!—you call—call—me a spider—do you?' said Cut-in-Half; 'for this—and—other—many other things—you shall die—die, I tell you—but not by my hand—because that wouldn't do—and besides—they'd "scrag" me—and so I'll say and prove that it was the ape. I have managed it all—and so—never mind—for that's all about it!' he added, preserving his equilibrium with the greatest difficulty. Then calling the monkey, which, at the end of his chain, was grinning and looking at his master and the boy, 'Here, Gargousse,' he said, pointing to the razor, and then to Gringalet, whom he had seized by the hair of his head, 'do so to him;' and then drawing the back of the razor several times over Gringalet's throat, he feigned to cut his throat. The devil of a monkey was such a close imitator—so wicked and so sly—that he understood what his master desired, and as if to prove to him that he did so, he took his chin in his left paw, put his head back, and, with his right paw, pretended to cut his throat. 'That's it, Gargousse—that's it!' said Cut-in-Half, stammering, with his eyes half closed, and staggering so much that he almost fell with Gringalet and the chair. 'Yes, that's it! I'll unfas—unfasten you, and you'll slice his weasand—won't you, Gargousse?' The ape shrieked as he ground his teeth, as much as to say yes, and put out his paw as if to take the razor that Cut-in-Half handed to him. 'Golden fly, come to my rescue!' murmured Gringalet, in a faint voice, and assured that his last hour was come. Alas! he called the golden fly without any hopes of its coming to his rescue; he did so as a drowning man exclaims, 'Mon Dieu! mon Dieu!' Yet at this very moment Gringalet saw enter into the room one of those small gold and green flies, which look like a spangle of gold flying and flitting around and about; and at the very moment when Cut-in-Half was going to give the razor to Gargousse, the gold fly went plump into the eye of this horrible ruffian. A fly in the eye is no great thing, but at the moment it hurts like the prick of a pin, and thus Cut-in-Half, who could scarcely support himself, raised his hand to his eye so suddenly that he staggered and fell at full length, rolling on the ground like a log to the foot of the bed, to which Gargousse was fastened. 'Golden fly, many thanks! You have saved me!' cried Gringalet, who, seated and fastened to the chair, had observed all."
"Ma foi! It really was true, then, and the golden fly prevented his having his throat cut," exclaimed the prisoners, overjoyed.
"The golden fly for ever!" cried the Blue Cap.
"Listen now," continued the story-teller, "for this is the most beautiful and terrible of the history I had promised you. Cut-in-Half had fallen like a lump of lead, and was so drunk that he could move no more than a log,—he was dead drunk and perfectly senseless; but in his fall he very nearly crushed Gargousse, and almost broke his hind paw. You know how savage and revengeful this infernal brute was, and he still held in his paw the razor which his master had given him to cut Gringalet's throat. What do you suppose the animal did when he saw his master on his back and within his reach? Why, he jumped upon him, squatted on his breast, and whilst with one paw he pushed up his chin to expose his neck, with the other he cut his throat as clean as a whistle, just as Cut-in-Half had taught him to do with poor Gringalet a few minutes before."
"Bravo, bravo! Well done!"