"For heaven's sake!" cried Madeleine, so alarmed, that till then she had not spoken a word, "call for assistance; perhaps they are thieves. Take care of the diamonds!" In truth, seeing these two strangers, of doubtful appearance, approach nearer and nearer to the bench on which lay the jewels, Morel, fearing some evil intention, ran forward, and with both hands covered the precious stones. Hoppy, always on the watch, and listening, hearing Madeleine's words, and seeing the movement of the artisan, said to himself; "They say he is a cutter of false stones; if so, he would not fear their being stolen. Just as well to know that. _I take!_ Then again, Mother Mathieu, who comes here so often, is a dealer in _real_; and those she has in her casket are real diamonds. I will put the Owl up to this!" added Red Arm's son. "If you do not leave this room instantly, I will call the police," said Morel. The children, frightened at this scene, began to cry, while the old idiot started upright in her bed. "If any one has a right to call the police, we're the men. Do you hear, Mister Sideways?" said Bourdin. "You'll see the police lend a hand to take you, if you don't go quietly," added Malicorne; "we have not the magistrate with us, it is true; but if you wish to enjoy his society, you shall have a taste of one, just out of his bed, quite hot and heavy. Bourdin will go and fetch him." "To prison! Me?" cried the astounded Morel. "Yes, to Clichy." "To Clichy!" repeated the artisan, with a wild look. "Is he hard of hearing?" asked Malicorne. "Well, then, to the debtor's prison, if you like that better," explained Bourdin. "You--you--are--can it be?--the lawyer! Oh, my God!" The artisan, pale as death, fell back on his stool, unable to utter another word. "We are the officers who are to take you, if we can; do you understand now, old fellow?" "Morel, it is for the bill in the hands of Louise's master! We are all lost!" said Madeleine, with a sorrowful voice. "This is the warrant," said Malicorne, taking from his dirty pocket-book a stamped writ. After having mumbled over in the usual way a part of this document, in a voice hardly intelligible, he pronounced distinctly the last words, unfortunately too well understood by the artisan.-- "As final judgment, the court condemns Jerome Morel to pay to Pierre Petit-Jean, merchant,[Footnote: The crafty notary incompetent to proceed in his own name, had got from the unfortunate Morel a blank acceptance, and had introduced a third party's name.] by all his goods, and even with his body, the sum of thirteen hundred francs, with lawful interest, dated from the day of the protest; and he is besides condemned to pay all other and extra costs. Given and judged at Paris, the 30th of September," etc., etc.