Palmyrin Rosette scratched his head in perplexity, glaring round upon his companions as if they were personally responsible for his annoyance. He muttered something about finding a way out of his difficulty, and hastily mounted the cabin-ladder. The rest followed, but they had hardly reached the deck when the chink of money was heard in the room below. Hakkabut was locking away the gold in one of the drawers.
"Back again, down the ladder, scrambled the little professor, and before the Jew was aware of his presence he had seized him by the tail of his slouchy overcoat. "Some of your money! I must have money!" he said.
"Money!" gasped Hakkabut; "I have no money." He was pale with fright, and hardly knew what he was saying.
"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 interefere. "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, surily.
"Two hundred francs!" whined Hakkabut.
"Silence!" cried the captain.
"I must have more than that," the professor continued. "I want ten two-franc pieces, and twenty half-francs."
"Let me see," said Servadac, "how much is that in all? Two hundred and thirty francs, is it not?"
"I dare say it is," answered the professor.
"Count, may I ask you," continued Servadac, "to be security to the Jew for this loan to the professor?"
"Loan!" cried the Jew, "do you mean only a loan?"
"Silence!" again shouted the captain.
Count Timascheff, expressing his regret that his purse contained only paper money, begged to place it at Captain Servadac's disposal.
"No paper, no paper!" exclaimed Isaac. "Paper has no currency in Gallia."
"About as much as silver," coolly retorted the count.
"I am a poor man," began the Jew.
"Now, Hakkabut, stop these miserable lamentations of yours, once for all. Hand us over two hundred and thirty francs in silver money, or we will proceed to help ourselves."
Isaac began to yell with all his might: "Thieves! thieves!"
In a moment Ben Zoof's hand was clasped tightly over his mouth. "Stop that howling, Belshazaar!"
"Let him alone, Ben Zoof. He will soon come to his senses," said Servadac, quietly.
When the old Jew had again recovered himself, the captain addressed him. "Now, tell us, what interest do you expect?"
Nothing could overcome the Jew's anxiety to make another good bargain. He began: "Money is scarce, very scarce, you know"
"No more of this!" shouted Servadac. "What interest, I say, what interest do you ask?"
Faltering and undecided still, the Jew went on. "Very scarce, you know. Ten francs a day, I think, would not be unreasonable, considering"
The count had no patience to allow him to finish what he was about to say. He flung down notes to the value of several rubles. With a greediness that could not be concealed, Hakkabut grasped them all. Paper, indeed, they were; but the cunning Israelite knew that they would in any case be security far beyond the value of his cash. He was making some eighteen hundred per cent. interest, and accordingly chuckled within himself at his unexpected stroke of business.
The professor pocketed his French coins with a satisfaction far more demonstrative. "Gentlemen," he said, "with these franc pieces I obtain the means of determining accurately both a meter and a kilogram."
CHAPTER VII
GALLIA WEIGHED
A QUARTER of an hour later, the visitors to the Hansa had reassembled in the common hall of Nina's Hive.
"Now, gentlemen, we can proceed," said the professor. "May I request that this table may be cleared?"
Ben Zoof removed the various articles that were lying on the table, and the coins which had just been borrowed from the Jew were placed upon it in three piles, according to their value.
The professor commenced. "Since none of you gentlemen, at the time of the shock, took the precaution to save either a meter measure or a kilogram weight from the earth, and since both these articles are necessary for the calculation on which we are engaged, I have been obliged to devise means of my own to replace them."
This exordium delivered, he paused and seemed to watch its effect upon his audience. But they were too well acquainted with the professor's temper to make any attempt to exonerate themselves from the rebuke of carelessness, and submitted silently to the implied reproach.
"I have taken pains," he continued, "to satisfy myself that these coins are in proper condition for my purpose. I find them unworn and unchipped; indeed, they are almost new. They have been hoarded instead of circulated; accordingly, they are fit to be utilized for my purpose of obtaining the precise length of a terrestrial meter."
Ben Zoof looked on in perplexity, regarding the lecturer with much the same curiosity as he would have watched the performances of a traveling mountebank at a fair in Montmartre; but Servadac and his two friends had already divined the professor's meaning. They knew that French coinage
