Monsieur the Sous-Préfet cried out:
"Number seventeen."
Then I departed without speaking, Catharine and her mother behind me. We went out into the place, and, the air reviving me, I remembered that I had drawn number seventeen.
Aunt Grédel seemed confounded.
"And I put something into your pocket, too," said she; "but that rascal of a Pinacle gave you ill luck."
At the same time she drew from my coat-pocket the end of a cord. Great drops of sweat rolled down my forehead; Catharine was white as marble, and so we returned to Monsieur Goulden's.
"What number did you draw, Joseph?" he asked, as soon as he saw us.
"Seventeen," replied Aunt Grédel, sitting down, with her hands upon her knees.
Monsieur Goulden seemed troubled for a moment, but he said instantly:
"One is as good as another. All will go; the skeletons must be filled. But it don't matter for Joseph. I will go and see Monsieur the Mayor and Monsieur the Commandant. It will be telling no lie to say that Joseph is lame; all the town knows that; but among so many they may overlook him. That is why I go, so rest easy; do not be anxious."