“Falsehood!” roared Rosette. “Do you think I cannot see?” And peering down into the drawer which the Jew was vainly trying to close, he cried, “Heaps of money! French money! Five-franc pieces! the very thing I want! I must have them!”
The captain and his friends, who had returned to the cabin looked on with mingled amusement and bewilderment.
“They are mine!” shrieked Hakkabut.
“I will have them!” shouted the professor.
“You shall kill me first!” bellowed the Jew.
“No, but I must!” persisted the professor again.
It was manifestly time for Servadac to interfere. “My dear professor,” he said, smiling, “allow me to settle this little matter for you.”
“Ah! your Excellency,” moaned the agitated Jew, “protect me! I am but a poor man—”
“None of that, Hakkabut. Hold your tongue.” And, turning to Rosette, the captain said, “If, sir, I understand right, you require some silver five-franc pieces for your operation?”
“Forty,” said Rosette, surlily.