He gazed at them thoughtfully, then remarked, in a
quiet tone of voice,--
"This is what the tall stranger gave me, when he drove away
with Reuben, for holding my tongue about him, and his doings."
Chauvelin shrugged his shoulders impatiently.
"How much is there there?" he asked.
"Twenty francs, your Excellency," replied the Jew, "and I have
been an honest man all my life."
Chauvelin without further comment took a few pieces of gold
out of his own pocket, and leaving them in the palm of his hand, he
allowed them to jingle as he held them out towards the Jew.
"How many gold pieces are there in the palm of my hand?" he asked quietly.
Evidently he had no desire to terrorize the man, but to conciliate him,
for his own purposes, for his manner was pleasant and suave. No doubt
he feared that threats of the guillotine, and various other persuasive
methods of that type, might addle the old man's brains, and that he would
be more likely to be useful through greed of gain, than through terror
of death.
The eyes of the Jew shot a quick, keen glance at the gold in
his interlocutor's hand.
"At least five, I should say, your Excellency," he replied obsequiously.
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