Country life -- Fiction; France -- Fiction; Love stories
"I shall interfere," said Huriel, who was sopping Joseph's blood with
his handkerchief, and had brought him back to consciousness, as he
held him on his knee. "I neither can nor will tell of your conduct
away from here, because I belong to the brotherhood, but at least I
will tell you to your faces that you are brutes. In our country we
fight with the devil in jest, taking care to do no one any harm.
Here you choose the strongest among you and furnish him with hidden
weapons, with which he endeavors to put out the eyes and stab the
veins of your victims. See! this young man is exhausted, and in the
rage which your wickedness excited in him, he would have let you kill
him if we had not stopped the fight. And then what would you have
done? You would have flung his body into that vault, where so many
other unfortunates have perished, whose bones ought to rise and
condemn you for being as cruel as your former lords."
These words reminded me of the apparition I had forgotten, and I
turned round to see if it was still there. I could not see it, and
then I bethought me of finding my way to the lower cave, where, as I
began to think, I might be useful to my friends. I found the
stairway at once and went down to the entrance of the vault, not
trying to conceal myself, for such disputing and confusion were going
on that no one paid any attention to me.
The Head-Woodsman had picked up the devil's skin-coat and showed that
it was covered with spikes like a comb for currying oxen; and also
the mittens which the sham devil wore on his hands, in which strong
nails were fastened with the points outside. The bagpipers were
furious. "Here's a pretty fuss about a few scratches," cried Carnat.
"Isn't it in the order of things that a devil should have claws? And
this young fool, who attacked him so imprudently, why didn't he know
how far he could play at that game without getting his snout scraped?
Come, come, don't pity him so much; it's a mere nothing; and since he
has had enough of it, let him confess he can't play at our games, and
is not fit to belong to our guild in any way."
"I shall belong to it!" cried Joseph, wrenching himself from Huriel's
arms and showing as he did so his torn shirt and bleeding breast. "I
shall belong to it in spite of you! I insist that the fight shall go
on, and one of us be left in this cavern."
"I forbid it!" said the Head-Woodsman, "and I insist that this young
man shall be proclaimed victor, or I swear to bring into this place a
company of bagpipers who shall teach you how to behave, and who will
see justice done."
"You?" said Doré-Fratin, drawing a sort of boar-knife from his belt.
"You can do so if you choose, but you shall carry with you some marks
on your body, so that people may believe your reports."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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