Such was the official name of Jackdaw's Leg. A silence followed, then the owner of the voice seemed to grow impatient.
"Kolb ... Kolb ... Kolb...."
No answer came. The uproarious fellow bellowed:
"Kolb ... Kôôôôlb...."
I bounced out of bed, still drowsy.
"This man will wake up the whole street," I murmured. "I believe we had better answer."
"Lieutenant Kolb is at the casino," I cried from behind the shutter.
"What?" asked the voice.
I thought my interlocutor fifteen yards from thence, in front of the gate. My hand leaning against the fastening unconsciously turned it; all of a sudden it was wrenched from my grasp and the shutters flew wide open. As quick as lightning I shut the window, stuck to the wall, and slipped behind the piano. Geneviève had started to her feet and stretched herself at full length along the bed. We saw the man produce an electric lamp from his pocket, and, with his nose flattened against the window-pane, try to catch a glimpse of the inside of the room. The curtains prevented him from seeing clearly anything, but we got a full view of his person.
He was a captain, colossus-like, thick-featured, and red-bearded; he had a helmet and a grey coat on. He sat on the window-sill, and muttered in a clammy, drunken voice: