tting
that, if I please, I can confiscate all your cargo for the common
use. You ought to think yourself lucky in getting any price at all. Be
contented with European prices; you will get no more. I am not going
to waste my breath on you. I will come again to-morrow;" and, without
allowing Hakkabut time to renew his lamentations, Servadac went away.

All the rest of the day the Jew was muttering bitter curses against
the thieves of Gentiles in general, and the governor of Gallia in
particular, who were robbing him of his just profits, by binding him
down to a maximum price for his goods, just as if it were a time of
revolution in the state. But he would be even with them yet; he would
have it all out of them: he would make European prices pay, after all.
He had a plan--he knew how; and he chuckled to himself, and grinned
maliciously.

True to his word, the captain next morning arrived at the tartan. He
was accompanied by Ben Zoof and two Russian sailors. "Good-morning, old
Eleazar; we have come to do our little bit of friendly business with
you, you know," was Ben Zoof's greeting.

"What do you want to-day?" asked the Jew.

"To-day we want coffee, and we want sugar, and we want tobacco. We must
have ten kilogrammes of each. Take care they are all good; all first
rate. I am commissariat officer, and I am responsible."

"I thought you were the governor's aide-de-camp," said Hakkabut.

"So I am, on state occasions; but to-day, I tell you. I am
superintendent of the commissariat department. Now, look sharp!"

Hakkabut hereupon descended into the hold of the tartan, and soon
returned, carrying ten packets of tobacco, each weighing one kilogramme,
and securely fastened by strips of paper, labeled with the French
government stamp.

"Ten kilogrammes of tobacco at twelve francs a kilogramme: a hundred and
twenty francs," said the Jew.

Ben Zoof was on the point of laying down the money, when Servadac
stopped him.

"Let us just see whether the weight is correct."

Hakkabut pointed out that the weight was duly registered on every
packet, and that the packets had never been unfastened. The captain,
however, had his own special object in view, and would not be diverted.
The Jew fetched his steelyard, and a packet of the tobacco was suspended
to it.

"Merciful heavens!" screamed Isaac.

The index registered only 133 grammes!

"You see, Hakkabut, I was right. I was perfectly justified in having
your goods put to the