THE POPE’S MULE 63

‘Ah, villain, if I escape... how
I will kick you to-morrow morning !’

The thought of this kicking revived
her sinking spirits ; if it had not been
for that she would have fainted.

At last they succeeded in getting
her out of the difficulty ; but it was a
business. She had to be got down in

_a basket by a crane and pulley. What
a disgrace for the Pope’s mule to be
hung up so high, flopping her feet
about in the air like a cockchafer at
the end of a string. And this before
the eyes of the whole of Avignon.

The unhappy animal could not get
a wink of sleep that night. She
seemed to be dangling from. that de-
testable platform, with the laughter
of the city underneath her; and then
she thought of Tistet Védétne and the
stupendous kick that she would give
him on the morrow. . . . Now, whilst
this reception was preparing for him in
the stable, what do you suppose that
Tistet Védéne was doing? He was