Chéri-Bibi told the Nut that he had not opened his lips during the trial. His counsel defended him against his will; and when the dread sentence was pronounced the prisoner thanked the jury for their service to him as well as to society.
That very evening as a prison van was taking him back to the central prison of the town in which he was tried, he heard a heart-rending clamor, and as he was stepping out of the van, he saw that the hospital which stood in the same square was on fire.
It was the work of a moment to free himself from his jailors and to leap into the flames. That evening, single-handed, he saved the lives of sixty.
"Fire!" he cried, "I'm used to fire."
He left the hospital only to return to it and to come out again with his precious burdens. When the whole of the inmates had been rescued, he gave himself up as a prisoner. His body was a mass of burns.
Throughout France there was but one opinion: He must be reprieved. Thus the death penalty was commuted to penal servitude for life.
"Fatalitas!" said the prisoner when the news was broken to him. "So there's still need for me to kill someone in the world!"
* * * * *
For a wonder the sight of the Nut's grief ended by softening the hearts of those wild beasts.
"Don't take on, Nut. It's all rot. I tell you that Chéri-Bibi is right enough. To begin with he can't kick the bucket. There are chaps like that. The very sight of them makes death turn tail."