"A puzzling house! A puzzling street! Altogether a puzzling city!"
"Gildas," called Lebrenn, "fetch me a couple of hammers and chisels. My son and I shall open these cases, while you may rip up the bales."
"The bales of linen, monsieur?"
"Yes—rip them open with your knife."
Furnished with hammers and chisels, the merchant and Sacrovir began to pry open the chests, while Gildas, who had rolled one of the bales flat on the floor, knelt down beside it and made ready to cut it open.
"Monsieur!" he suddenly cried, frightened by the hard blows that Lebrenn was dealing to the chest with his hammer. "Monsieur! If it please you, take care—look at the lettering on the chests—glass! You will break the looking-glasses to pieces!"
"Do not be frightened, Gildas," answered his employer, "these looking glasses are of solid material."
"They are plated with lead and iron, my friend Gildas," added Sacrovir, striking still more heavily.
"More and more puzzling!" muttered Gildas to himself as he again went down on his knees beside one of the bales in order to rip it open. In order to furnish himself with more light at his work he took a candle, and placed it upon the floor beside him. He was just about to remove the heavy outer wrappage of coarse grey burlap when Monsieur Lebrenn, who only then noticed the illumination which his shop-assistant had provided himself with, cried out:
"Hold, Gildas! Are you crazy? Put the candle back on the table, quick. The devil take it! You would blow us all up, my boy!"