“Ah, I know now!” cried little Pauline, clapping her hands with glee. “It’s the story of the gentleman who was eaten by the crabs!”
“They succeeded in reaching the coast,” continued Florent, “but it was quite deserted; and it was only at the end of four days that they were able to get a boat. When they returned to the rock, they found their companion lying on his back, dead, and half-eaten by crabs, which were still swarming over what remained of his body."[*]
[*] In deference to
the easily shocked feelings of the
average English reader
I have somewhat modified this
passage. In the
original M. Zola fully describes the awful
appearance of the body.—Translator.
A murmur of disgust escaped Lisa and Augustine, and
a horrified grimace passed over the face of Leon,
who was preparing the skins for the black-puddings.
Quenu stopped in the midst of his work and looked
at Auguste, who seemed to have turned faint. Only
little Pauline was smiling. In imagination the
others could picture those swarming, ravenous crabs
crawling all over the kitchen, and mingling gruesome
odours with the aroma of the bacon-fat and onions.
“Give me the blood,” cried Quenu, who had not been following the story.
Auguste came up to him with the two cans, from which he slowly poured the blood, while Quenu, as it fell, vigorously stirred the now thickening contents of the pot. When the cans were emptied, Quenu reached up to one of the drawers above the range, and took out some pinches of spice. Then he added a plentiful seasoning of pepper.
“They left him there, didn’t they,” Lisa now asked of Florent, “and returned themselves in safety?”