“Is it you who are making these complaints, poor man?” The condemned gathered all his strength together and said: “Yes.” “Then you are still alive?” “Yes.” “You repent of your crime?” “Yes.” “Then I will loosen you, and since the Evangelist commands us to give succor to those who suffer, and that you suffer, I am going to succor you and bring you to life in order to bring you to good. God prefers a soul that repents to a corpse that expiates.” Then the father and the son cut down the dying man, and saw how it was that he still lived. The rope, instead of tightening about the neck of the thief, had tightened at the base of the casque so effectually that the culprit was suspended but not strangled, and, occupying with his head a kind of vantage-point in the interior of the casque, he was able to breathe and to keep alive up to the time our two companions passed by. The latter took him down and carried him home with them, where they gave him into the care of the mother and the young daughter. But he who has stolen will steal. There were but two things to steal at the peasant’s, for the money he had brought back with him was not in his house. These two things were his horse and his daughter, a fair-haired girl of sixteen. The ex-hanged decided to steal both the one and the other, for he was covetous of the horse and had fallen in love with the daughter. So one night he saddled the horse, buckled on the spurs to make him ride faster, and went to take the young girl while she was asleep, and lift her up on to the crupper. But the girl awoke and cried out. The father and the son came running up. The thief tried to escape, but he was too late. The young girl told about the attempt of the hanged man; and the father and the son, seeing well that no repentance was to be expected from such a man, resolved to execute justice upon him, but more effectually than the Seigneur of La Piroche had allowed himself to do it. They bound the thief to the horse which he had saddled himself, led him to the square of La Piroche, and strung him up there where he had been hanged, but placed his casque on the ground to make sure that he should not vanish again; then they returned home quietly. There is the third version. I do not know why I believe it to be the most probable, and that you would do well, like me, to give it preference over the other two. As for the Seigneur of La Piroche, as soon as he had secured a real talisman, he went happily off to the wars, where he was the first to be killed. FOOTNOTES: [12] As the word “Mississippi” sounded to the French ear. [13] Behold Pierrot suspendered, Who has not his Latin rendered. But ’twas otherwisely fated: Pierrot was the one translated. THE DEAN’S WATCH BY ERCKMANN-CHATRIAN [Illustration]