Jon Hagadorn

Hello!

Here is my watch.

Let me see what time it is.'

Dangler's watch, one of Breguet's repeaters, which he had carefully wound up on the previous night, struck half-past five.

Without this Dangler's would have been quite ignorant of the time, for daylight did not reach his cell.

Should he demand an explanation from the bandits, or should he wait patiently for them to propose it?

The last alternative seemed the most prudent, so he waited until twelve o'clock.

During all this time a sentinel, who had been relieved at eight o'clock, had been watching his door.

Dangler suddenly felt a strong inclination to see the person who kept watch over him.

He had noticed that a few rays, not of daylight, but from a lamp, penetrated through the ill-joined planks of the door.

He approached just as the brigand was refreshing himself with a mouthful of brandy, which, owing to the leather and bottle containing it, sent forth an odor which was extremely unpleasant to Dangler's.

"'Frah!'

he exclaimed, retreating to the farthest corner of his cell.

At twelve this man was replaced by another functionary, and Danglers, wishing to catch sight of his new guardian, approached the door again.

He was an athletic, gigantic bandit, with large eyes, thick lips, and a flat nose.

His red hair fell in disheveled masses like snakes around his shoulders.

"'Aha!'

cried Danglers.

"'This fellow's more like an ogre than anything else.

However, I'm rather too old and tough to be very good eating.'