"Gargousse for ever!"
"The little golden fly for ever!"
"Gringalet for ever! Gargousse for ever!"
"Well, my friends, I assure you, as you shout now, so did the whole population of La Petite Pologne shout an hour afterwards," said Pique-Vinaigre, delighted at the success of his story and the enthusiasm of his hearers.
"In what way?"
"I told you that, in order to complete his wicked purpose at his ease, the vagabond Cut-in-Half had closed the door inside. Towards the evening, the boys came in one after the other with their animals. The first rapped, but no answer; then, when they had all arrived, they knocked at the door, but no reply; so one went to find Le Doyen to tell him how they had knocked in vain, and that their master did not open to them. 'The fellow must be as drunk as an Englishman,' said he; 'I sent him some wine just now. We must break open the door, for the children cannot pass the night out-of-doors.' So they burst in the door, and then they went up the stairs, and what should they see but Gargousse chained and crouching on his master's body, playing with the razor! Poor Gringalet was fortunately out of Gargousse's reach and still on the chair, not daring to look on Cut-in-Half's body, but gazing at,—guess what, the little golden fly, which, after having flitted round and round the child as if to congratulate him, had, at last, come and settled on his poor little hand.
"Gringalet related all to Le Doyen and the crowd that came in, and, as it really appeared like the interposition of Providence, Le Doyen cried, 'A triumph for Gringalet! A triumph to Gargousse who killed the infamous Cut-in-Half! He cut others, it was his turn to be cut himself.' 'Yes, yes,' cried the assembled mob, for the beast-shower was universally detested, 'a triumph to Gargousse! A triumph for Gringalet!' It was night, and they lighted straw torches, fastened Gargousse to a bench, which four chaps carried on their shoulders; and the blackguard of an ape seemed as if he felt his consequence, and gave himself the airs of a conquering hero, by showing his teeth to the multitude. After the ape came Le Doyen, carrying Gringalet in his arms; then all the little fellows, each carrying his beast, followed him, one with his fox, another his marmotte, another his guinea-pig; and those who played on the hurdy-gurdy played now; then there were the charcoal-sellers who had their bells, and there was such an uproar, such joy, such a fête as can be scarcely imagined. Behind the musicians and animal-showers came all the dwellers in La Petite Pologne, men, women, and children, all holding straw torches, and halloaing like mad, 'Vive Gringalet! Vive Gargousse!' The procession advanced in this way around the place in which Cut-in-Half dwelt. It was a very singular sight to see the old buildings lighted up by the red light of the straw torches, which flared and flared. As to Gringalet, the first thing he did when he was at liberty was to put the little golden fly in a paper bag, and he exclaimed during his triumph, 'Little flies, I did very right in preventing the spiders from eating you, for—'"
Pique-Vinaigre was interrupted by a voice from without, exclaiming:
"Père Roussel, come to your soup; it only wants ten minutes to four!"
"Ma foi! The story is nearly finished, and I must go. Many thanks, my lad, you have amused me very much, and that you may tell everybody," said the superintendent to Pique-Vinaigre, going to the door; then pausing, "Mind and be quiet," he said, turning towards the prisoners.