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."