Volume III Part 29 (1/2)

”Yes; exactly; why did he not revenge himself in that way?” said Nicholas.

”What good would that have done him?” said another.

”Why, to do harm because others harmed him!”

”No! I can comprehend why the poor little kid liked to save the flies,”

answered Blue Cap. ”He thought, perhaps, 'Who knows that some one will not save me in the same way?'”

”Pal, you're right,” cried Pique-Vinaigre; ”you have read in your heart what I was about to explain to the honorable company. Gringalet was not malicious; he saw no further than the end of his nose; but he said to himself, 'Cut-in-half is my spider; perhaps one day somebody will do for me what I do for the flies; they will break up his web, and s.n.a.t.c.h me from his claws.' For until then, on no account would he have dared to run away from his master; he would have thought himself stone dead. Yet, one day, when neither he nor his turtle had had any luck, and they had only earned two or three sous, Cut-in-half began to whip the child so hard, so hard, that, hang it! Gringalet could stand it no longer. Tired of being the b.u.t.t and martyr of everybody, he watched the moment when the trap-door of the garret was open, and while the padrone was feeding his beasts, he slipped down the ladder.”

”Hooray! so much the better!” said a prisoner.

”But why did he not go and complain to the Alderman?” said Blue Cap; ”he would have given Cut-in-half his token!”

”Yes, but he did not dare; he was too much afraid, he preferred to run away. Unfortunately, Cut-in-half had seen him; he caught him by the throat, and carried him back to the garret; this time Gringalet, thinking of what he had to expect, shuddered from head to foot, for he was not at the end of his troubles. Speaking of the troubles of Gringalet, it is necessary that I should tell you of Gargousse, the favorite ape. This wicked animal was larger than Gringalet; judge what a size for an ape! Now I am going to tell you why they did not lead him as a show through the streets, like the other beasts of the menagerie; it was because Gargousse was so wicked and so strong that, among all the children, there was only one, Auvergnat, fourteen years old, a resolute fellow, who, after having several times collared and fought with Gargousse, had succeeded in mastering him, and leading him by a chain; and even then, there were often battles between them, and b.l.o.o.d.y ones too, you may bet! Tired of this, the little Auvergnat said one day, 'Well, well, I will revenge myself on you, you lubberly baboon!' So one morning he set off with his beast as usual; to decoy him he bought a sheep's heart. While Gargousse was eating, he pa.s.sed a cord through the end of his chain, and fastened it to a tree; and when he had the scoundrel of an ape once tied fast, he poured on him such a torrent of blows! a torrent that fire could not have extinguished.”

”Good boy!”

”Bravo! Auvergnat!”

”Hit him again, he's got no friends.”

”Break his back for him, the rascally Gargousse,” said the prisoners.

”And he did lay it on with a good heart,” answered Pique-Vinaigre. ”You should have heard how Gargousse yelled, seen how he gnashed his teeth, jumped, danced here and there; but Auvergnat trimmed him up with his club, saying, 'Do you like it? then here is some more!' Unfortunately, apes are like cats, they have nine lives. Gargousse was as cunning as he was wicked.

When he saw, as I may say, what kind of wood was burning for him, at the very thickest moment of the torrent, he cut a last caper, fell flat down at the foot of the tree, kicked a moment, and then shammed dead, not budging any more than a log. The Auvergnat wished nothing more; believing the ape done for, he cleared out, never to put his feet in Cut-in-half's drum again. But the vagabond Gargousse watched him out of the corner of his eye, all wounded as he was, and as soon as he saw himself alone and Auvergnat at a distance, he gnawed the cord with his teeth. The Boulevard Monceau, where he had had his dance, was very near Little Poland; the ape knew the road as well as he did his prayers. He slowly went off then, crawling along, and arrived at his master's, who swore and foamed to see his pet ape thus served out. But this is not all; from that moment Gargousse had preserved such furious spite against all children in general, that Cut-in-half, though not very tender-hearted, had not dared to let any of them lead him out, for fear of an accident; for Gargousse would have been capable of strangling or devouring a child, and the little fellows would rather have allowed themselves to be slashed by their master than approach the ape.”

”I must most decidedly go and eat my soup,” said the keeper, making a movement toward the door; ”Pique-Vinaigre would make the birds come down from the trees to hear him. I do not know wherever he has fished up this story.”

”At length the keeper is off,” whispered Skeleton to the Cripple; ”I am in a fever, so much do I burn. Only attend to making the ring around the spy, I'll take care of the rest.”

”Be good boys,” said the keeper, going toward the door.

”Good as pictures,” answered Skeleton, drawing near Germain, while the Big Cripple and Nicholas, at a concerted signal, made two steps in the same direction.

”Oh! respectable warder, you are going away at the finest moment,” said Pique-Yinaigre, with an air of reproach.

Except for the Cripple, who prevented his movement by seizing his arm, Skeleton would have sprung upon Pique-Vinaigre.

”How at the finest moment?” answered the keeper, turning.

”I think so,” said Pique-Vinaigre; ”you do not know all you are going to lose; the most charming part of my story is about to commence.”

”Do not listen to it, then,” said Skeleton, with difficulty restraining his rage; ”he is not in the vein to-day: I find his story abominably stupid.”

”My story stupid?” cried Pique-Vinaigre, his vanity wounded; ”well, keeper, I beg you, I supplicate you, to remain to the end. I have only enough to fill a good quarter of an hour; besides, your soup is cold. Now what do you risk? I will hasten on with my story, so that you may still have the time to go and eat before we go to our beds.”

”Well, then, I remain, but make haste,” said the keeper, drawing near.

”And you are right to remain, for, without boasting, you have never heard anything like it--above all, the conclusion; there is the triumph of the ape and of Gringalet, escorted by all the little beast conductors and inhabitants of Little Poland. My word of honor I do not say it from vanity, but it is first-cla.s.s.”