“Madame will be judge,” said he, turning towards the young woman.
“Enough chattering,” cried Goujet. “Now then, Zouzou, show your muscle! It’s not hot enough, my lad.”
But Salted-Mouth, otherwise Drink-without-Thirst, asked: “So we strike together?”
“Not a bit of it! each his own bolt, my friend!”
This statement operated as a damper, and Goujet’s comrade, on hearing it, remained speechless, in spite of his boasting. Bolts of forty millimetres fashioned by one man had never before been seen; the more so as the bolts were to be round-headed, a work of great difficulty, a real masterpiece to achieve.
The three other workmen came over, leaving their jobs, to watch. A tall, lean one wagered a bottle of wine that Goujet would be beaten. Meanwhile the two blacksmiths had chosen their sledge
