"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."