coats, and then he brandished the weapon, cocked the
lock, caused the breech to revolve, and took aim at one of the geese or
turkeys that were hanging in the stall. He was immensely delighted at
the alarm manifested by the women; but eventually reassured them by
stating that the revolver was not loaded. However, he carried a supply
of cartridges about with him, in a case which he opened with the most
elaborate precautions. When he had allowed his friends to feel
the weight of the cartridges, he would again place both weapon and
ammunition in his pockets. And afterwards, crossing his arms over his
breast, he would chatter away jubilantly for hours.

"A man's a man when he's got a weapon like that," he would say with a
swaggering air. "I don't care a fig now for the gendarmes. A friend and
I went to try it last Sunday on the plain of Saint Denis. Of course,
you know, a man doesn't tell everyone that he's got a plaything of that
sort. But, ah! my dears, we fired at a tree, and hit it every time. Ah,
you'll see, you'll see. You'll hear of Anatole one of these days, I can
tell you."

He had bestowed the name of Anatole upon the revolver; and he carried
things so far that in a week's time both weapon and cartridges were
known to all the women in the pavilion. His friendship for Florent
seemed to them suspicious; he was too sleek and rich to be visited with
the hatred that was manifested towards the inspector; still, he lost the
esteem of the shrewder heads amongst his acquaintances, and succeeded in
terrifying the timid ones. This delighted him immensely.

"It is very imprudent for a man to carry firearms about with him," said
Mademoiselle Saget. "Monsieur Gavard's revolver will end by playing him
a nasty trick."

Gavard now showed the most jubilant bearing at Monsieur Lebigre's.
Florent, since ceasing to take his meals with the Quenus, had come
almost to live in the little "cabinet." He breakfasted, dined, and
constantly shut himself up there. In fact he had converted the place
almost into a sort of private room of his own, where he left his old
coats and books and papers lying about. Monsieur Lebigre had offered no
objection to these proceedings; indeed, he had even removed one of the
tables to make room for a cushioned bench, on which Florent could
have slept had he felt so inclined. When the inspector manifested any
scruples about taking advantage of Monsieur Lebigre's kindness, the
latter told him to do as he pleased