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Updated: May 18, 2025
"A good deal, and to you, too, if you wish him any harm. You are a member of his troupe?" "Not for long, you had better believe!" "Long enough to earn a few louis?" "What do you want done?" "I will tell you. If you hate this Gudel I will give you an opportunity to pay off your score, and I will pay you at the same time." "That is nonsense!" "All right. I am in no hurry. I can wait an hour or two."
"Yes, but with you I should not be afraid." "And master am I to be left behind?" asked the clown. "Very well, we four will go, then," answered Gudel. "But you forget that we have not horses enough," he added. "But I have legs," interposed Bobichel, "and I can overtake you wherever you go. You can take Caillette on behind."
By a movement more rapid than thought, Fanfar, divining what was to happen, had thrown himself flat on the roof with his arms extended beyond the gutter, and had shouted to Gudel: "Hold fast to the rope!" Iron Jaws snatched the rope between his formidable jaws, and when the rope was cut he simply hung and waited. Fanfar slowly drew him up. It was a magnificent display of energy and strength.
"Why does Monsieur Fanfar refuse to gain a few louis for his master?" "Not his master," said Gudel, hastily. "Let me speak," interrupted Fanfar. "I will explain to the lady. Our public are bourgeois and common folk who support us, and bring us success. Their hands are large, but they applaud well. They are good people, and I do not wish to humiliate them.
Gudel followed him without a question. Suddenly Gudel stumbled. Fanfar caught him, but it was too late. There was a crash of broken glass. Gudel had broken one of those small windows in the roof which landlords consider sufficient for tenants who pay only sixty francs per annum for their attics.
To do what you ask would wound them deeply." Irène listened, with a frown. Gudel retreated to the background where he indulged in a silent laugh. Fanfar waited, calmly. "This is a lesson you read me?" she said, at last. "No, Mademoiselle, it is only advice. Make yourself beloved by these peasants. I have much to do, and pray that you will excuse me." He bowed, and was about to retire.
Cyprien hesitated, but he said again: "I do not know." "Then good-night, my dear fellow!" said Gudel. "Here is a loaf of bread for you, rascal that you are!" Irène hastened from the dungeon, and when they had again ascended the stairs, Gudel said to her: "These fellows are all alike, after all!" "What are you trying to do?" asked Irène. "It is simple enough.
He was a horrible object when he swallowed the swords. It was not admiration, it was horror, that he inspired. He seemed to enjoy this, and had imitated drops of blood on the sabres that he put down his throat. A few delicate persons shouted "Enough!" and Gudel appeared, not as Gudel, be it understood, but as Iron Jaws, the athlete.
And presently Fanfar and Gudel stood side by side. "Now, gentlemen, it is your turn," said Fanfar. "No! it is my turn!" shouted Cyprien, taking a pistol from his pocket and firing. The ball broke a slate which fell into the street. As to Gudel and Fanfar, they were far away and a high chimney hid them from view.
And Fanfar had caught this barrel in his iron arms. Had it absolutely fallen, for the chain had broken, nothing could have saved Gudel. As it was, the shock deprived him of consciousness. Fanfar himself could hardly stand. Caillette and Bobichel ran to Gudel. La Roulante knelt at his side, and uttered shriek after shriek. Robeccal did not appear. The peasants gathered around the injured man.
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