"Brought the game?"
"That's what we're sending down now!..."
"That's a bit of all right!"
Sailor now seized the trussed Jules from the bucket and flung him on the ground.
"Damaged goods, that—eh?" he laughed evilly.
The Beadle, Beard, and Emilet were coming down in turn. The group below bent curiously over the prisoner.
"He's soft—that sort is!" cried Ernestine. And tapping him on the face with her foot, big Ernestine tried to make Jules show signs of life. Beard dropped out of the bucket and stopped the game.
"Let's see, Ernestine?... Stop it now!"
After gripping the hand of each comrade in turn, after hugging a bottle and draining it in a long draught, emptying it to the dregs, Beard flung it aside.
"Let's get to work—no time to waste!... If we finish him off, we'll have to get rid of him before morning!"