"Who's there?" he cried, in no very amiable tone.
"I," replied the quavering voice.
"Who are you?"
"Isaac Hakkabut. Let me in; do, please, let me in."
"Oh, it is you, old Ashtaroth, is it? What do you want? Can't you get anybody to buy your stuffs?"
"Nobody will pay me a proper price."
"Well, old Shimal, you won't find a customer here. You had better be off."
"No; but do, please—do, please, let me in," supplicated the Jew. "I want to speak to his Excellency, the governor."
"The governor is in bed, and asleep."
"I can wait until he awakes."
"Then wait where you are."
And with this inhospitable rejoinder the orderly was about to return to his place at the side of his patient, when Servadac, who had been roused by the sound of voices, called out, "What's the matter, Ben Zoof?"
"Oh, nothing, sir; only that hound of a Hakkabut says he wants to speak to you."
"Let him in, then."
Ben Zoof hesitated.
"Let him in, I say," repeated the captain, peremptorily.
However reluctantly, Ben Zoof obeyed. The door was unfastened, and Isaac Hakkabut, enveloped in an old overcoat, shuffled into the gallery. In a few moments Servadac approached, and the Jew began to overwhelm him with the most obsequious epithets. Without vouchsafing any reply, the captain beckoned to the old man to follow him, and leading the way to the central hall, stopped, and turning so as to look him steadily in the face, said, "Now is your opportunity. Tell me what you want."
"Oh, my lord, my lord," whined Isaac, "you must have some news to tell me."
"News? What do you mean?"
"From my little tartan yonder, I saw the yawl go out from the rock here on a journey, and I saw it come back, and it brought a stranger; and I thought—I thought—I thought"
"Well, you thought—what did you think?"
"Why, that perhaps the stranger had come from the northern shores of the Mediterranean, and that I might ask him"
He paused again, and gave a glance at the captain.
"Ask him what? Speak out, man."
"Ask him if he brings any tidings of Europe," Hakkabut blurted out at last.
Servadac shrugged his shoulders in contempt and turned away. Here was a man who had been resident three months in Gallia, a living witness to all the abnormal phenomena that had occurred, and yet refused to believe that his hope of making good bargains with European traders was at an end. Surely nothing, thought the captain, will convince the old rascal now; and he moved off in disgust. The orderly, however, who had listened with much amusement, was by no means disinclined for the conversation to be continued. "Are you satisfied, old Ezekiel?" he asked.
"Isn't it so? Am I not right? Didn't a stranger arrive here last night?" inquired the Jew.
"Yes, quite true."
"Where from?"
"From the Balearic Isles."
"The Balearic Isles?" echoed Isaac.
"Yes."
"Fine quarters for trade! Hardly twenty leagues from Spain! He must have brought news from Europe!"
"Well, old Manasseh, what if he has?"
"I should like to see him."
"Can't be."
The Jew sidled close up to Ben Zoof, and laying his hand on his arm, said in a low and insinuating tone, "I am poor, you know; but I would give you a few reals if you would let me talk to this stranger."
But as if he thought he was making too liberal an offer, he added, "Only it must be at once."
"He is too tired; he is worn out; he is fast asleep," answered Ben Zoof.
"But I would pay you to wake him."
The captain had overheard the tenor of the conversation, and interposed sternly, "Hakkabut! if you make the least attempt to disturb our visitor, I shall have you turned outside that door immediately."
"No offense, my lord, I hope," stammered out the Jew. "I only meant"
"Silence!" shouted Servadac.
The old man hung his head, abashed.
"I will tell you what," said Servadac after a brief interval; "I will give you leave to hear what this stranger has to tell as soon as he is able to tell us anything; at present we have not heard a word from his lips."
The Jew looked perplexed.
"Yes," said Servadac; "when we hear his story, you shall hear it too."
"And I hope it will be to your liking, old Ezekiel!" added Ben Zoof in a voice of irony.
They had none of them long to wait, for within a few minutes Rosette's peevish voice was heard calling, "Joseph! Joseph!"
The professor did not open his eyes, and appeared to be slumbering on, but very shortly afterwards called out again, "Joseph! Confound the fellow! where is he?" It was evident that he was half dreaming about a former servant now far away on the ancient globe. "Where's my blackboard, Joseph?"
"Quite safe, sir," answered Ben Zoof, quickly.
Rosette unclosed his eyes and fixed them full upon the orderly's face. "Are you Joseph?" he asked.
"At your service, sir," replied Ben Zoof with imperturbable gravity.
"Then get me my coffee, and be quick about it."
Ben Zoof left to go into the kitchen, and Servadac approached the professor in order to assist him in rising to a sitting posture.
"Do you recognize your quondam pupil, professor?" he asked.
"Ah, yes, yes; you are Servadac," replied Rosette. "It is twelve years or more since I saw you; I hope you have improved."
"Quite a reformed character, sir, I assure you," said Servadac, smiling.
"Well, that's as it should be; that's right," said the astronomer with fussy importance. "But let me have my coffee," he added impatiently; "I cannot collect my thoughts without my coffee."
Fortunately, Ben Zoof appeared with a great cup,
