The perspiration was rolling down their faces, but they made no headway.
"Get away from there, all of you," suddenly exclaimed a voice that Emile instantly recognized, "and let me try it—I prefer to do it alone."
And Jean, armed with a crow-bar, quickly pried out a large stone which no one had noticed. Then, with wonderful dexterity, he gave the beam a powerful push.
"Gently, deuce take it!" cried Monsieur Cardonnet, "you'll smash everything."
"If I smash anything, I'll pay for it," retorted the peasant, with playful bluntness. "Now, two of you boys come here. All together now! Courage, little Pierre, that's good!—Another bit, my old Guillaume!—Oh! the clever fellows!—Softly! softly! let me take my foot away, or you'll crush it for me, son of the devil!—Now she goes!—push—don't be afraid—I have it!"
And in less than two minutes Jean, whose presence and voice seemed to electrify the other workmen, relieved the machinery of the extraneous object which endangered it.
"Come with me, Jean," said Monsieur Cardonnet, thereupon.
"What for?" rejoined the peasant. "I have done enough of that sort of work for to-day, monsieur."
"That is why I want you to come and drink a glass of my best wine. Come, I say, I have something to say to you. My son, go and tell your mother to put some Malaga on my table."
"Your son?" said Jean, looking at Emile with some signs of emotion. "If he is your son, I will go with you, for he seems to me like a good fellow."