"
"Bravo!"
"Well done!"
"Long live Gargousse!"
"The little golden gnat forever!"
"Bravo, Gringalet!"
"Hooray, Gargousse!" cried the prisoners with enthusiasm.
"Well, my friends!" cried Pique-Vinaigre, enchanted at the success of his
story, "what you have just cried, all Little Poland cried an hour later."
"How is that--how?"
"I told you that, to do this bloody deed quite at his ease, Cut-in-half had
locked his door on the inside. In the evening, the children returned, one
after the other, with their beasts; the first knocked--no answer; at
length, when they were all assembled, they knocked again--no reply; one of
them went after the Alderman, and told him that they had knocked, and that
their master did not open the door. 'The fellow is as drunk as a Dutchman,'
said he. 'I sent him some wine just now; we must break open the door; the
children cannot remain all night out of doors.'
"They break open the doors, they enter, they mount the stairs, they reach
the chamber, and what do they see? Gargousse, chained and crouching on the
body of his master, and playing with the razor; poor Gringalet, happily out
of his reach, still seated, and tied on the chair, not daring to cast his
eyes on the dead body, and looking at--guess what? The little golden fly,
which, after having fluttered around the child, as if to felicitate him,
had finally come and seated itself on his little hand.
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