"Well, I may as well out with it, we only half like the job."
"You don't mean to say so! And you only discover it now, my man, after stringing up the sisters Archignat and treating it as a lark!"
"I was drunk that day. You made us drink."
"Well, get boozed if you want to, old cock. Here, take the brandy-bottle. Fill your flask and shut up . . . . Conrad, is the stretcher ready?"
He turned to his victim:
"A polite attention for you, my dear . . . . Two old stilts of your brat's, fastened together with straps . . . . It's very practical and comfortable."
At half-past eight, the grim procession set out, with Vorski at the head, carrying a lantern. The accomplices followed with the litter.
The clouds which had been threatening all the afternoon had now gathered and were rolling, thick and black, over the island. The night was falling swiftly. A stormy wind was blowing and made the candle flicker in the lantern.
"Brrrr!" muttered Vorski. "Dismal work! A regular Golgotha evening."
He swerved and grunted at the sight of a little black shape bounding along by his side: