"If you want to throw him in the water, you'll throw me with him!"
"No! No!"
Finally, they said they would not push him in the water, but upon one condition; he was to be left in a corner and no one was to speak to him or to pay any attention to him.
"Yes, that's what he deserves," said the professor. "That's only fair."
After the professor's words, which seemed like a judgment condemning Comperou, we all huddled together and got as far away from him as possible, leaving a space between us and the unfortunate man. For several hours, I should think, he sat there, grief stricken, his lips moving every now and again, to say:
"I repent! I repent!"
And then Pages and Bergounhoux would cry out:
"It's too late! It's too late! You repent because you're afraid now; you should have repented six months ago, a year ago."
He gasped painfully, but still repeated:
"I repent! I repent!"
He was in a high fever; all his body shook and his teeth were chattering.
"I'm thirsty," he said; "give me the boot." There was no more water in the boot. I got up to go and fetch some, but Pages, who had seen me, called to me to stop, and at the same moment Uncle Gaspard pulled me by the arm.
