darkness
was too thick, so faint a light could not disperse it: Bras-Rouge's son
could not see anything. The struggle with the Schoolmaster and the
Chouette was mute, deadly, without a word, without a cry; only from time
to time was heard the hard breathing, or the stifled groan, which always
accompanies violent and desperate efforts. Tortillard, seated on the
step, began to stamp his feet with that cadence peculiar to an audience
impatient to see the beginning of a play; then he uttered the cry so
familiar to the frequenters of the gallery of the minor theatres:

"Music! Music! Play up! Up with the curtain!"

"Oh, now I have hold of you, as I desired," murmured the Schoolmaster,
from the recess of the cellar; "and you were going--"

A desperate movement of the Chouette interrupted him; she struggled with
all the energy which the fear of death inspires.

"Louder! Can't hear!" bawled Tortillard.

"It is in vain you try to gnaw my hand, I will hold you as I like," said
the Schoolmaster. Then, having, no doubt, succeeded in keeping the
Chouette down, he added, "That's it! Now listen--"

"Tortillard, call your father!" shrieked the Chouette, with a faltering,
exhausted voice. "Help! Help!"

"Turn her out, the old thing! She won't let us hear," said the little
cripple, with a shout of laughter; "put her out!"

The Chouette's cries were not audible from this cavern, low as it was.
The wretched creature, seeing that there was no chance of help from
Bras-Rouge's son, resolved to try a last effort.

"Tortillard, go and fetch help, and I will give you my basket; it is
full of jewels. There it is, under a stone."

"How generous! Thank ye, madame. Why, haven't I got it already? Hark!
Don't you hear how it rattles?" said Tortillard, shaking it. "But now,
if you'll give us half a pound of gingerbread nuts, I'll go and fetch
pa."

"Have pity on me, and I will--"

The Chouette was unable to conclude. Again there was a profound silence.
The little cripple again began to beat time on the stone staircase on
which he was seated, accompanying the noise of his feet with the
repeated cry:

"Why don't you begin? Up with the curtain! Music! Music!"

"In this way, Chouette, you can no longer disturb me with your cries,"
said the Schoolmaster, after a few minutes, during which he had, no
doubt, gagged the old woman. "You know very well," he continued, in a
slow, hollow voice, "that I do not wish to end this all at once; torture