"Yes," answered the sufferer in a choking voice.
"Good! Attention, Despois; sponge!"
Then with a long knife he cut rapidly around the arm. Nicholas ground his teeth. The blood spirted; Despois tied something. The saw ground for two seconds, and the arm fell heavily on the floor.
"That is what I call a well-performed operation," observed Lorquin.
Nicholas was no longer smoking; the pipe had fallen from his lips. They bound round what remained of his arm with lint, and replaced him on his mattress.
"Another finished! Sponge the table well, Despois, and then for the next," said the doctor, washing his hands in a large basin.
Each time he said, "Now for the next," the wounded men groaned with fear. The shrieks they heard and the glittering knives they saw were enough to strike a chill to their hearts; but what could be done? All the rooms of the farm-house and of the barn were crowded. Only the large hall remained clear, and so the Doctor could not help operating under the eyes of those who must a little later take their turn.
Materne could see no more. Even the dog, Pluto, who stood behind the doctor, seemed to tremble at the horrible sight. The old hunter hastened to breathe the cold air without, and cried:
"And to think, my boys, that this might have happened to us!"