Volume III Part 25 (1/2)
”And since Skeleton is so sure of being cut down, it costs him nothing to kill beggars.”
”I think it cruel to kill this young man!” said Frank.
”What: what!” cried Skeleton, in an angry tone; ”one has no right to pay off a traitor?”
”Yes, true, he is a traitor; so much the worse for him,” said Frank, after a moment's reflection.
These last words, and the a.s.surances of Cripple, calmed the suspicions which Frank for a moment had raised among the prisoners. Skeleton alone remained doubtful.
”What shall we do with the keeper?”
”Tell us, Doomed-to-Death,” said Nicholas, laughing.
”Well! some will engage his attention on one side.”
”No: we will hold him by force.”
”Yes.”
”No.”
”Silence in the gang!” cried Skeleton. The most profound quiet ensued.
”Listen to me well,” resumed the provost, in a hoa.r.s.e voice, ”there are no means to do the job while the keeper is in the ward, or the court. I have no knife; there will be some stifled cries--the sneak will struggle.”
”Then what is to be done?”
”This is my plan: Pique-Vinaigre has promised to relate to us to-day, after dinner, his story of Gringalet and Cut-in-half. It rains, we will all retire here, and the beggar will come and take his seat in the corner, in his usual place. We will give some sous to Pique-Vinaigre to make him commence his story. It will be the dinner hour. The keeper, seeing us quietly occupied in listening to the nonsense, will have no suspicions; he will go and take a pull at the canteen. As soon as he has left the court, we have a quarter of an hour to ourselves--the turncoat will be done up before the warder returns. I take it upon myself. I have done the trick for stouter fellows than he. I wish no help.”
”A moment,” said Cardillac; ”the bailiff always comes lounging here at dinner-time. If he should enter the hall to listen to Pique-Vinaigre, and should see us fixing Germain, he is likely to sing out for help; he is not fly; look out.”
”That is true,” said the Skeleton.
”A bailiff here!” cried Frank, the victim of Boulard, with astonishment.
”And what is his name?”
”Boulard,” said Cardillac.
”It is my man,” cried Frank, doubling his fists; ”it is he who stole my savings.”
”The bailiff?” asked the provost.
”Yes; seven hundred and twenty francs which he collected for me.”
”You know him? he has seen you?” asked the Skeleton.
”I should think I had seen him, to my sorrow. But for him I should not be here.”