Meanwhile, Ernestine was unwinding the gag.

"Take your places on the tribunal!" commanded Nibet.

"And you others, a glass of pick-me-up for the fellow!"

The pick-me-up intended to restore Jules to consciousness was brought by
Mother Toulouche, under the form of a large earthen pot full of cold
water. She dashed the water in the prisoner's face.

Jules slowly opened his eyes and regained his wits, amidst an ominous
silence. The band watched his return to life with evil smiles: they
quietly watched his pallid face turn a livid green with terror.

The wretched creature could not utter a syllable. He stared wildly at
those about him, his friends of yesterday, at those seated on the mock
judgment bench who, crouching forward, were observing him with sardonic
smiles.

Nibet put a question.

"You hear and understand us, Jules?"

"Pity!" howled the victim.

Nibet was indifferent to the cry.

"He understands!... For my part, I am all for keeping to a proper
procedure.... I would not have agreed to sit in judgment on him if he
had been unable to defend himself.... We don't act that way down here!"

Turning to his acolytes for signs of their approval, he continued:

"Beard! The word is with you! Let us hear why he has been brought up to
judgment!... Tell us what he is accused of!... Bring up all there is
against him!"

Beard, who was marching up and down between the hooligan tribunal and
the accused, who was half dead, and incapable of making a rational
statement, stopped, squared himself with an air of satisfaction, and
began his speech for the prosecution.

"Jules, has anyone ever done you any harm here?... Has anyone played
cowardly tricks on you?... Set traps to catch you in?... Have you ever
been cheated out of your fair share of the spoil?... Is there anything
you can bring up against us?... No?... Well, here's what we have against
you ... it's not worth while lying about it either!... You are the one
who has taken the wind out of our sails over the Danidoff affair ... do
you confess that?"

In a voice barely intelligible Jules gasped out:

"Beard ... I don't understand you!... I have done nothing--nothing....
What have you against me?..."

Beard took his time.

Planted before the prisoner, with hip stuck out and hand in pocket, the
other hand raised in tragic invocation towards his comrades:

"You have heard?... Monsieur does not understand!... He has not the
pluck to be open and aboveboard!"