“No, it is a traveller.”
“He must have come from Paris.”
“Just so,” said the notary, pulling out his watch, which was two inches thick and looked like a Dutch man-of-war; “it’s nine o’clock; the diligence of the Grand Bureau is never late.”
“Is the gentleman young?” inquired the Abbe Cruchot.
“Yes,” answered Monsieur des Grassins, “and he has brought luggage which must weigh nearly three tons.”
“Nanon does not come back,” said Eugenie.
“It must be one of your relations,” remarked the president.
“Let us go on with our game,” said Madame Grandet gently. “I know from Monsieur Grandet’s tone of voice that he is annoyed; perhaps he would not like to find us talking of his affairs.”
“Mademoiselle,” said Adolphe to his neighbor, “it is no doubt your cousin Grandet,—a very good-looking young man; I met him at the ball of Monsieur de Nucingen.” Adolphe did not go on, for his mother trod on his toes; and then, asking him aloud for two sous to put on her stake, she whispered: “Will you hold your tongue, you great goose!”
At this moment Grandet returned, without la Grande Nanon, whose steps, together with those of the porter, echoed up the staircase; and he was followed by the traveller who had excited such curiosity and so filled the lively imaginations of those present that his arrival at this dwelling, and his sudden fall into the midst of this assembly, can only be likened to that of a snail into a beehive, or the introduction of a peacock into some village poultry-yard.