Hiraux was therefore given over by the prior to the cook, that is to
say, religious justice handed him over to the secular arm.
The cook condemned him to twenty-four hours' solitary confinement,
accompanied by bread and water, and, to make sure that the punishment
should not be mitigated by any friend of the criminal, he shut him up
in the monastery cellar.
But the cook had forgotten that the cellar was well filled with wines,
cider, oil, vinegar, brandy, rum, etc., etc.
All these liquids were arranged symmetrically in barrels, as
becometh honest barrels, in a well-regulated cellar belonging to a
Premonstratensian Monastery.
Hiraux went to all the casks and turned on all the taps, one after the
other, saying at each turn of the keys: That's the wine running out,
that's the cider running out, that's the oil running out, that's the
vinegar running out, that's the brandy running out, that's the rum
running out, etc., etc.
The operation took some time, and as Hiraux pronounced his remarks in
a loud voice those in the kitchens heard sounds like distant chanting,
but could catch no words. But, as the murmur continued, the cook became
uneasy and went to listen at the door. He heard Hiraux's litany; he
fearfully comprehended what it meant. In a second he had lit a lamp,
the cellar door was opened, and the anticipated spectacle was revealed
in all its heinousness.
Every cask had its tap at full cock, and was emptying itself of its
contents; the mixture of all the liquids had already created a flood
six inches deep, which was increasing fast.
Hiraux was seated astride a big barrel, as composed as an Indian
Bacchus, philosophically waiting till the lake reached him.
The crime was so patent this time that, instead of the culprit denying
it, he boasted of it so impudently that the cook did not stop to refer
the matter to the prior, but decided to take the law into his own hands.
But the first and most urgent thing to do was to shut off the taps.
Then they seized upon Hiraux, who made no attempt to escape. Next they
called a court of justice, comprised of the cook and his scullions.
It was decided unanimously that Hiraux should be birched.
The sentence admitted of no appeal, and it was instantly put into
execution. Furthermore, it was carried out vigorously, lasting for ten
minutes, in spite of the victim's cries. At the conclusion, the brother
cook took a handful of pepper and rubbed it on the injured part to
soothe his pains and to efface the bleeding traces the infliction had
left.
Hiraux nearly lost the sight of his eyes in consequence.
This may seem odd at first, and it may be thought I have used the wrong
phrase: but not at all.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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