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The weapon had disappeared under the board which served as a hiding place and the rabbit was stuffed into Chicot's loose shirt. After about a quarter of an hour Labouise asked: "Well, sister, shall we get one more?" "It will suit me," Maillochon answered. The boat started swiftly down the current. The mist, which was hiding both shores, was beginning to rise.
Both men darted after the beast, Maillochon with a long stride, Labouise with the short, breathless trot of a little man. But the donkey, tired out, had stopped, and, with a bewildered look, was watching his two murderers approach. Suddenly he stretched his neck and began to bray. Labouise, out of breath, had taken the gun.
I don't know what it is! but it's there. I'll give you back your money if you find nothing!" And he disappeared in the darkness. Maillochon, who was following him, kept punching him in the back to express his joy. As we were still talking about Pranzini, M. Maloureau, who had been attorney general under the Empire, said: "Oh!
Maillochon reappeared with his gun wrapped up in rags. He was a man of forty or fifty, tall and thin, with the restless eye of people who are worried by legitimate troubles and of hunted animals. His open shirt showed his hairy chest, but he seemed never to have had any more hair on his face than a short brush of a mustache and a few stiff hairs under his lower lip. He was bald around the temples.
Labouise grasped the animal by the bridle. Maillochon asked in surprise: "What do you expect to do with that carcass?" Chicot this time opened his other eye in order to express his gaiety. His whole red face was grinning with joy. He chuckled: "Don't worry, sister. I've got my idea." He gave five francs to the woman, who then sat down by the road to see what was going to happen.
Rowing about on the river day and night, watching for any prey, dead or alive, poachers on the water and nocturnal hunters, sometimes ambushing venison in the Saint-Germain forests, sometimes looking for drowned people and searching their clothes, picking up floating rags and empty bottles; thus did Labouise and Maillochon live easily.
The donkey received the charge in his thighs, but the shot was so small and came from such a distance that he thought he was being stung by flies, for he began to thrash himself with his tail. Labouise sat down to laugh more comfortably, while Maillochon reloaded the weapon, so happy that he seemed to sneeze into the barrel.
No risk for me." The innkeeper, growing suspicious, exclaimed "Supposing he wasn't there!" Labouise once more raised his hand and said: "He's there, I swear! first bush to the left. What it is, I don't know. But it's not a buck, I'm positive. It's for you to find out what it is. Twenty-five francs, cash down!" Still the man hesitated: "Couldn't you bring it?" Maillochon exclaimed: "No, indeed!
The donkey received the charge in his thighs, but the shot was so small and came from such a distance that he thought he was being stung by flies, for he began to thrash himself with his tail. Labouise sat down to laugh more comfortably, while Maillochon reloaded the weapon, so happy that he seemed to sneeze into the barrel.
Perhaps we might make a deal." Labouise, who seemed perplexed, pretended to consult Maillochon with a glance. Then he answered in a slow voice: "This is how it is. We were in the bushes at Eperon when something passed right near us, to the left, at the end of the wall. Mailloche takes a shot and it drops. We skipped on account of the game people. I can't tell you what it is, because I don't know.
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