ney in his pocket,
going about like an old beggar! No doubt he is some old miser, too rich
to be able to count his hoards. One good thing, mother, we know his
name; that may assist us in gaining admittance into the house. As soon
as Amandine can find out for us whether he has any servants or not--"

A loud barking of dogs here interrupted Calabash.

"Listen, mother," cried she; "no doubt the dogs hear the sound of a boat
approaching; it must be either Martial or Nicholas."

At the mention of Martial's name, the features of Amandine expressed a
sort of troubled joy. After waiting for some minutes, during which the
anxious looks of the impatient child were fixed on the door, she saw, to
her extreme regret, Nicholas, the future accomplice of Barbillon, make
his appearance. The physiognomy of the youth was at once ignoble and
ferocious; small in figure, short in stature, and mean in appearance, no
one would have deemed him a likely person to pursue the dangerous and
criminal path he trod. Unhappily, a sort of wild, savage energy supplied
the place of that physical force in which the hardened youth was
deficient. Over his blue loose frock he wore a kind of vest, without
sleeves, made of goatskin, covered with long brown hair. As he entered,
he threw on the ground a lump of copper, which he had with difficulty
carried on his shoulder.

"A famous good night I have made of it, mother!" said he, in a hoarse
and hollow voice, after he had freed himself from his burden. "Look
there! There's a prize. Well, I've got three more lumps of copper, quite
as big as that, in my boat, a bundle of clothes, and a case filled with
something, I know not what, for I did not waste my time in opening it.
Perhaps I have been robbed on my way home; we shall see."

"And the man you were to meet on the Quai de Billy?" inquired Calabash,
while the widow regarded her son in silence.

The only reply made by the young man consisted in his plunging his hand
into the pocket of his trousers, and jingling a quantity of silver.

"Did you take all that from him?" cried Calabash.

"No, I didn't; he shelled out two hundred francs of his own accord; and
he will fork out eight hundred more as soon as I have--But that's
enough; let's, first of all, unload my boat; we can jabber afterwards.
Is not Martial here?"

"No," said his sister.

"So much the better; we will put away the swag before he sees it;
leastways, if he can be kept from knowing about it."