“Hey! hey! Monsieur Grandet, if that’s too heavy for you,” said a cloth-dealer, his nearest neighbor, “I’ll take it off your hands.”
“Heavy?” said the cooper, “I should think so; it’s all sous!”
“Silver sous,” said the porter in a low voice.
“If you want me to take care of you, keep your tongue between your teeth,” said the goodman to the porter as they reached the door.
“The old fox! I thought he was deaf; seems he can hear fast enough in frosty weather.”
“Here’s twenty sous for your New Year, and mum!” said Grandet. “Be off with you! Nanon shall take back your barrow. Nanon, are the linnets at church?”
“Yes, monsieur.”
“Then lend a hand! go to work!” he cried, piling the sacks upon her. In a few moments all were carried up to his inner room, where he shut himself in with them. “When breakfast is ready, knock on the wall,” he said as he disappeared. “Take the barrow back to the coach-office.”
The family did not breakfast that day until ten o’clock.
“Your father will not ask to see your gold downstairs,” said Madame Grandet as they got back from Mass. “You must pretend to be very chilly. We may have time to replace the treasure before your fete-day.”