But she recovered herself as she
heard Nanon's heavy steps and gruff voice mingling with the snorting
of several horses.
"Can my father be carrying off my cousin?" she said to herself,
opening her door with great precaution lest it should creak, and yet
enough to let her see into the corridor.
Suddenly her eye encountered that of her father; and his glance, vague
and unnoticing as it was, terrified her. The goodman and Nanon were
yoked together by a stout stick, each end of which rested on their
shoulders; a stout rope was passed over it, on which was slung a small
barrel or keg like those Pere Grandet still made in his bakehouse as
an amusement for his leisure hours.
"Holy Virgin, how heavy it is!" said the voice of Nanon.
"What a pity that it is only copper sous!" answered Grandet. "Take
care you don't knock over the candlestick."
The scene was lighted by a single candle placed between two rails of
the staircase.
"Cornoiller," said Grandet to his keeper _in partibus_, "have you
brought your pistols?"
"No, monsieur. Mercy! what's there to fear for your copper sous?"
"Oh! nothing," said Pere Grandet.
"Besides, we shall go fast," added the man; "your farmers have picked
out their best horses."
"Very good. You did not tell them where I was going?"
"I didn't know where."
"Very good. Is the carriage strong?"
"Strong? hear to that, now! Why, it can carry three thousand weight.
How much does that old keg weigh?"
"Goodness!" exclaimed Nanon.
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