g at every step he took; for the fellow had been drinking so
hard that he could scarcely stand on his legs, while his body swung to
and fro like the sails of a windmill.

"Almost bereft by extreme intoxication of the power of speech, he
continued to gaze on the shrinking child with eyes full of dreadful
meaning, though his tongue was unable to declare the murderous designs
he meditated. Never had the poor boy endured such horror at the sight of
his master. Gargousse was chained as usual to the foot of the bed, and
in the middle of the room stood a chair, from the back of which hung a
strong cord. 'S--s--sit down--there!' cried the tyrant, as he pointed to
the seat. Gringalet obeyed in silence, and Cut-in-Half, without another
word, twisted the rope around him, and finally secured him in the chair
so firmly that, even if poor Gringalet had dared to struggle, it would
have been impossible for him to have extricated himself. 'Great and good
God!' murmured the wretched child, 'this time no one will come to
deliver me from my danger!' And the poor little fellow was right, for,
indeed, it was utterly impossible, and for this reason, that no sooner
had Le Doyen gone away with the idea of all being comfortably arranged
between the boy and his master than Cut-in-Half hastened to double-lock
and bolt the entrance to his premises, so that no person could gain
admission without his knowledge."

"Oh, poor little Gringalet!" exclaimed all the prisoners, deeply excited
by the recital, "it's all up with him, that's quite sure."

"I'd give my last franc-piece to get him out of the hands of that
blackguard--that I would!" cried a multitude of voices, as though one
unanimous sympathy actuated each breast.

"I wonder what that beggar of a Cut-in-Half is going to do with the poor
little chap!" added they, in almost breathless interest; "come, push on,
and let's hear."

Pique-Vinaigre continued:

"When Gringalet was well secured in the chair, his master said to him"
(and here the narrator imitated most naturally the thick speech and
stammering tones of a drunken man): 'Ah--you scoundrel!--you--you are
the--cause of--my being thrashed by Le Doyen!--you shall--die--for
it--you shall--you--young--devil!' Then he took from his pocket a
freshly sharpened razor, opened it, and seized Gringalet by the hair of
his head. At the sight of the razor the child began to weep. 'Pardon,
master! Pardon! Do not kill me!' 'Cry away, you infernal brat! Yo