bury the bitch, that is if you can manage to get anyone
to help you, for I think you will find her heavy
enough —her great carcase will be no light weight
to carry. But of course you must bury her after dark.
One does not parade dead dogs through the streets
of Saint Loup by daylight as though they were
Christians!5 for Jouse much disliked ridicule. 'And
where will you dig this fine grave?' he questioned.
Anfos hesitated, and then he said slowly: 'I thought
at the foot of Eusebe's vineyards. . . .'
*Ho, ho!5 exclaimed Jouse. 'Well then, mon pauvre
bougre, you had certainly better obtain his consent,
otherwise he may well dig her up again. I advise you
to go now at once and consult him.3
So Anfos went over to Eusebe and tried to obtain his
permission also: CI ask this for Christophe's sake,5 he
began, which was wonderfully clever for a half-wit
like Anfos, since Eusebe— that cross-grained old
sinner — had a certain sneaking affection for
Christophe.
Eusebe frowned, and spat heavily; then he shrugged,
and cast his eye up to the ceiling; then he started to
roll a small cigarette in dirty paper between dirty
fingers; and finally: 'What is all this that I hear? You
would plant a dead dog at the foot of my vineyards?
Santouno, what next will you suggest, I wonder! No,
certainly not. Do you think I grow grapes for the
finest red wine in all France from corpses?5 For
Eusebe liked to assert himself when it came to the
matter of granting a favour.
Poor Anfos could only nibble his beard and stand
on one foot and then on the other: *I had hoped . . , 5
he faltered, but his courage failed; he was really
terribly afraid of Eusebe. Those uncanny ill-matched
orbs filled him with fear; indeed, nothing on earth but
devotion to Ghristophe could have tempted him into
the ogre's lair: 'I will go — but at once I will go/
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