the moment Cut-in-half gave the razor to Gargousse, the golden gnat flew
straight into the eye of the wicked wretch. A fly in the eye is no great
thing; but, for a moment, it stings like a prick with a needle; so
Cut-in-half, who could hardly stand, fell on the floor and rolled like a
log to the foot of the bed where Gargousse was chained.

"'Golden gnat, I thank you; you have saved me!' cried Gringalet; for, still
seated, and tied on the chair, he had seen everything."

"It is true enough, the golden gnat prevented his throat from being cut,"
cried the prisoners, transported with joy.

"Hooray for the golden gnat!" cried Blue Cap.

"Yes, long live the golden gnat!" repeated several voices.

"Bravo, Pique-Vinaigre and his stories!" said another.

"Stop, then," resumed the patterer, "here's the finest and most terrible
part of the story that I had promised you. Cut-in-half had fallen on the
ground like lead; he was so drunk that he stirred no more than a log; he
was dead drunk, and knew nothing; but, in falling, he came near crushing
Gargousse, and had almost broken one of his hind paws. You know how wicked
this villainous beast was--rancorous and malicious. He held on to the razor
which his master had given him to cut the throat of Gringalet. What does my
lovely ape do when he sees his master stretched on his back, immovable as a
fried carp, and much at his ease? He sprung upon him, crouched on his
breast, with one of his paws stretched the skin of his throat, and with the
other--click! he cut his windpipe in a moment, exactly as Cut-in-half had
shown him how to operate on Gringalet."