fix I should be in! but precious little you
fellows care whether I get my neck stretched or not. Now listen: do you
take that body at once and carry it away from here; if you don't, by
G-d, you and I will have a settlement! You hear me; take it by the head,
take it by the heels, take it any way you please, but get it out of here
and don't let there be a hair of it remaining in this room at the end of
three minutes from now!"

In the end Sambuc prevailed on Father Fouchard to let him have a sack,
although it wrung the old miser's heartstrings to part with it. He
selected one that was full of holes, remarking that anything was good
enough for a Prussian. Cabasse and Ducat had all the trouble in the
world to get Goliah into it; it was too short and too narrow for the
long, broad body, and the feet protruded at its mouth. Then they carried
their burden outside and placed it on the wheelbarrow that had served to
convey to them their bread.

"You'll not be troubled with him any more, I give you my word of honor!"
declared Sambuc. "We'll go and toss him into the Meuse."

"Be sure and fasten a couple of big stones to his feet," recommended
Fouchard, "so the lubber shan't come up again."

And the little procession, dimly outlined against the white waste of
snow, started and soon was buried in the blackness of the night, giving
no sound save the faint, plaintive creaking of the barrow.

In after days Sambuc swore by all that was good and holy he had obeyed
the old man's directions, but none the less the corpse came to the
surface and was discovered two days afterward by the Prussians among the
weeds at Pont-Maugis, and when they saw the manner of their countryman's
murder, his throat slit like a pig, their wrath and fury knew no bounds.
Their threats were terrible, and were accompanied by domiciliary visits
and annoyances of every kind. Some of the villagers must have blabbed,
for there came a party one night and arrested Father Fouchard and
the Mayor of Remilly on the charge of giving aid and comfort to the
francs-tireurs, who were manifestly the perpetrators of the crime.
And Father Fouchard really came out very strong under those untoward
circumstances, exhibiting all the impassability of a shrewd old peasant,
who knew the value of silence and a tranquil demeanor. He went with his
captors without the least sign of perturbation, without even asking them
for an explanation. The truth would come out. In the country roundabout