human
What! bawled the sergeant.
gpt
What! _Mon dieu!_ it is. Then he said in a horror-stricken hoarse voice,
human
Is he dead?
gpt
the man replied. And with a look of terror he addressed his comrade:
human
That was your stroke, not mine. I struck him on the shoulder. Thank God, his blood is on your head!
gpt
exclaimed the second, a man of harder mettle.
human
What matters? It is our duty. And the _piége_ was his, not ours. He was a fool. But where--where is the _galérien_? We must have him!
gpt
Into the house, exclaimed the sergeant,