The Prophet took down the lantern to see what Cain had been gnawing.  It was one of the planks from the floor of his den, which he had succeeded in tearing up, and was crunching between his teeth in the extremity of his hunger.  For a few moments the most profound silence reigned in the menagerie.  The Prophet, with his hands behind his back, went from one cage to the other, observing the animals with a restless contemplative look, as if he hesitated to make between them an important and difficult choice.

From time to time he listened at the great door of the shed, which opened on the court-yard of the inn.  At length this door turned on its hinges, and Goliath appeared, his clothes dripping with water.

“Well! is it done?” said the Prophet.

“Not without trouble.  Luckily, the night is dark, it blows hard, and it pours with rain.”

“Then there is no suspicion?”

“None, master.  Your information was good.  The door of the cellar opens on the fields, just under the window of the lasses.  When you whistled to let me know it was time, I crept out with a stool I had provided; I put it up against the wall, and mounted upon it; with my six feet, that made nine, and I could lean my elbows on the window-ledge; I took the shutter in one hand, and the haft of my knife in the other, and, whilst I broke two of the panes, I pushed the shutter with all my might.”

“And they thought it was the wind?”

“Yes, they thought it was the wind.  You see, the ‘brute’ is not such a brute, after all.  That done, I crept back into my cellar, carrying my stool with me.  In a little time, I heard the voice of the old man; it was well I had made haste.”

“Yes, when I whistled to you, he had just entered the supper-room.  I thought he would have been longer.”

“That man’s not built to remain long at supper,” said the giant, contemptuously.  “Some moments after the panes had been broken, the old man opened the window, and called his dog, saying:  ’Jump out!’—­I went and hid myself at the further end of the cellar, or that infernal dog would have scented me through the door.”

“The dog is now shut up in the stable with the old man’s horse.”  “Go on!”

“When I heard them close shutter and window, I came out of my cellar, replaced my stool, and again mounted upon it.  Unfastening the shutter, I opened it without noise, but the two broken panes were stopped up with the skirts of a pelisse.  I heard talking, but I could see nothing; so I moved the pelisse a little, and then I could see the two lasses in bed opposite to me, and the old man sitting down with his back to where I stood.”

“But the knapsack—­the knapsack?—­That is the most important.”

“The knapsack was near the window, on a table, by the side of a lamp; I could have reached it by stretching out my arm.”

“What did you hear said?”

“As you told me to think only of the knapsack, I can only remember what concerns the knapsack.  The old man said he had some papers in it—­the letter of a general—­his money—­his cross.”