Their two jaws had more than a passing resemblance, and their instincts for destruction were such that they were bound to understand each other. One thing was certain—Tarasque, who had for the wastrels of the penal settlement but his canine teeth, had a tongue with which to lick Chéri-Bibi's hands whenever he met him.
The reader who is familiar with the early adventures of Chéri-Bibi, and knows what a peculiar wealth of affection lay hidden in the heart of the great criminal—the victim of fate—will comprehend the attachment which he felt for the huge brute who was then making so much of him.
But coming at that moment, that exhibition of friendship would destroy him no less utterly than the most infuriated attack, and at the same time, be the undoing of the Nut.
Chéri-Bibi loved the dog, but he had promised the Nut his liberty. If those friendly demonstrations continued for a few seconds longer, the two officers, put on their guard, would come upon the dog and Chéri-Bibi.
He held the dog's head under his arm, and feeling in his pocket with his other hand, took out a knife, the blade of which was open. It was a question of killing the brute in such a way that it would drop dead at his feet.
Chéri-Bibi felt a clutch at his heart. He had killed many persons in the course of his life, as the result, as it seemed to him, of inexorable circumstances, and he had suffered for it, but never before had he been filled with such horror.
He patted the dog and the dog licked his face. And during this dire caress the sharp and unerring point of his knife penetrated Tarasque's throat and cut it at a single blow, "without working back in the cut," as butchers say in their particular jargon.
Chéri-Bibi had been a journeyman butcher in the days of his youth. He knew his business. Alas, he had proved it many a time since. He knew how to kill effectively. The dog gave a prolonged and terrible gasp and fell dead, deluging Chéri-Bibi with blood.
"Fatalitas!" he groaned under his breath. And that ghastly moment was set down in his memory as among the most frightful in his frightful career.
"It's very strange," said the Commandant. "What's the matter with Tarasque, gasping like that? Tarasque, here! Come here!"