“At the same moment, and in the midst of the terrifying silence which usually follows a clap of thunder, they heard a knocking at the door. Caderousse and his wife started and looked aghast at each other.
“‘Who’s there?’ cried Caderousse, rising, and drawing up in a heap the gold and notes scattered over the table, and which he covered with his two hands.
“‘It is I,’ shouted a voice.
“‘And who are you?’
“‘Eh, pardieu! Joannes, the jeweller.’
“‘Well, and you said I offended the good God,’ said La Carconte with a horrid smile. ‘Why, the good God sends him back again.’ Caderousse sank pale and breathless into his chair.
“La Carconte, on the contrary, rose, and going with a firm step towards the door, opened it, saying, as she did so:
“‘Come in, dear M. Joannes.’
“‘Ma foi,’ said the jeweller, drenched with rain, ‘I am not destined to return to Beaucaire tonight. The shortest follies are best, my dear Caderousse. You offered me hospitality, and I accept it, and have returned to sleep beneath your friendly roof.’
“Caderousse stammered out something, while he wiped away the sweat that started to his brow. La Carconte double-locked the door behind the jeweller.”