"You know who he is, then?"
"If I know! It’s the Balrogician, it’s Trascoletto! After giving me the plan to the house, doubtless hoping I would either kill the Count, so that he might gain his inheritance, or the Count would kill me, so that he would be rid of me, he awaited me in the road and slew me."
"I have also sent for the steuard du roi."
"He will be too late. I feel my blood leave me."
"Wait," said the Count, and gave Buttrebeurrousse two drops from a phial of sunni-délit.
"Oh!" said Buttrebeurrousse. "It is life itself that you pour for me there ... more ... more ..."
"Two more drops had killed you," said the Count.
"Ah, now let someone come to whom I can denounce the wretch."
"Do you wish me to write your deposition?" asked the abbé.
"Oui ... oui," said Buttrebeurrousse, whose eyes shone at the idea of this posthumous vengeance.
