"A famous idea!" said Nicholas. "But if you really do want to see a couple of feeders, just draw this way. There!" added he, pointing to the bench on which Frank was sitting; "what do you think of a pair of grubbers like those? I should say we were better behind than before them, or they might even swallow us instead of those huge lumps of bread and cheese and onions so rapidly stowed away in their capacious jaws."
"Let's have a look at them!" said Maître Boulard.
"Well, to be sure!" cried Nicholas, with feigned surprise; "I declare one of them is Gros-Boiteux!"
Gros-Boiteux and Frank both turned around at these words. Stupefied and speechless, the bailiff continued to gaze in utter amazement at the man he had so wronged, while, starting up with a sudden spring, Frank threw down the morsel he had been eating, and darting on Maître Boulard, he seized him by the throat, exclaiming, "My money—my money; give me my money!"
"Hallo! Who are you? What do you mean? Hands off, or you'll strangle me! I—"
"My money, I say!"
"My good man, only calm yourself and listen to reason!"
"No, not till you give me back my money. What, aren't you satisfied with having brought me here? Can you not restore me what you stole from me?"
"But I—I—I—never—"
"I tell you again, if I get sent to the galleys 'tis all along of you; for had you not taken my little all from me, I should not have been driven to the necessity of robbing others; I might have lived and died an honest man. You may be acquitted, you may escape the punishment you deserve, but, at least, you shall carry my marks away with you. Ha, ha! You can come it grand, and swagger about here dressed up with your gold chains and trinkets, bought, no doubt, with the money of other poor devils who have been cheated by you as I have been. Take that for your pains—and that—that—and that! Now, have you had enough? No! Then here's for you again!"