Fernand, who was much excited, promised her everything that she wished, and feverishly, malignantly, she told him how shamefully her husband had treated her a short time before, how her fair skin had been cut, told him her hatred and thirst for revenge; and the brigadier acquiesced, and that same evening he came to the cottage accompanied by his four hounds, with their spiked collars on.

“What are you going to do with them?” “the man with the dogs” asked.

“I have come to see whether you did not rob me when you sold them to me,” the brigadier replied.

“What do you mean by ’robbed you’?”

“Well, robbed!  I have been told that they could not tackle a dog like your Bourreau, and that many smugglers have dogs who are as good as he is.”

“Impossible.”

“Well, in case any of them should have one, I should like to see how the dogs that you sold me could tackle them.”

The woman laughed an evil laugh, and her husband grew suspicious, when he saw that the brigadier replied to it by a wink.  But his suspicions came too late.  The breaker had no time to go to the kennel to let out his pack, for Bourreau had been seized by the custom-house officer’s four dogs.  At the same time the woman locked the door, and already her husband was lying motionless on the floor, while Bourreau could not go to his assistance, as he had enough to do to defend himself against the furious attack of the other dogs, who were almost tearing him to pieces, in spite of his strength and courage.  Five minutes later two of the attacking hounds were totally disabled with the bowels protruding, but Bourreau himself was dying, with his throat gaping.

Then the woman and the custom-house officer kissed each other before the breaker whom they bound firmly, while the two dogs of the custom-house officer, that were still on their legs, were panting for breath, and the other three were wallowing in their own blood, and while the amorous couple were carrying on all sorts of capers, who were still further excited by the rage of the dog-breaker, who was forced to look at them, and who shouted in his despair: 

“You wretches!  You shall pay for this!” And the woman’s only reply was, to say:  “Cuckold!  Cuckold!  Cuckold!”

When she was tired of larking, her hatred was not yet satisfied, and she said to the brigadier: 

“Fernand, go to the kennels and shoot the five other brutes; otherwise he will make them kill me to-morrow.  Off you go, old fellow!”

The brigadier obeyed, and immediately five shots were heard in the darkness.  It did not take long, but that short time had been enough for “the man with the dogs” to show what he could do.  While he was tied, the two dogs of the custom-house officer had gradually recognized him, and came and fondled him, and as soon as he was alone with his wife, as she was insulting him, he said, in his usual voice of command to the dogs: