"Now, then, let those who have paid take their seats," added Pique-Vinaigre, gaily, firmly believing that, thanks to himself, Germain had nothing now to fear. "And those who have not paid," he added, "will sit down or stand up, which they please." Let us sum up the arrangement of his scene. Pique-Vinaigre was standing up near the stove ready to commence; near him was the Skeleton, also standing up, and with his eyes intently fixed on Germain, ready to rush upon him the moment the turnkey left the cell. At some distance from Germain, Nicholas, Barbillon, Cardillac, and other prisoners, amongst whom was the man with the blue cotton nightcap and gray blouse, occupying the remoter benches. The majority of prisoners, grouped here and there, some sitting on the ground, others standing and leaning against the wall, composed the secondary figures of this picture, lighted, a la Rembrandt, by three lateral windows, which threw strong light and deep shadows on forms so variously characterised and so strongly marked. The turnkey, whose departure was to be, unknown to himself, the signal for Germain's murder, kept close to the door, which was ajar. "Are we all ready?" asked Pique-Vinaigre of the Skeleton. "Silence in the stone-jug!" said the latter, turning half around; and then addressing Pique-Vinaigre, "Now, begin; we are all attention!" CHAPTER XI. GRINGALET AND CUT-IN-HALF. Pique-Vinaigre began his recital thus, in the midst of the profound silence of his auditory: "It is no inconsiderable time ago that the story occurred which I am about to relate to this honourable company. What was called La Petite Pologne was not then destroyed. The honourable society knows (or does not know) what was called La Petite Pologne?" "Well enough!" said the prisoner in the blue cap; "they were some small houses near the Rue du Rocher and the Rue de la Pepiniere?"