"Monsieur!" he suddenly cried, frightened by the hard blows that Lebrenn was dealing to the chest with his hammer. "Monsieur! If it please you, take care--look at the lettering on the chests--_glass_! You will break the looking-glasses to pieces!" "Do not be frightened, Gildas," answered his employer, "these looking glasses are of solid material." "They are plated with lead and iron, my friend Gildas," added Sacrovir, striking still more heavily. "More and more puzzling!" muttered Gildas to himself as he again went down on his knees beside one of the bales in order to rip it open. In order to furnish himself with more light at his work he took a candle, and placed it upon the floor beside him. He was just about to remove the heavy outer wrappage of coarse grey burlap when Monsieur Lebrenn, who only then noticed the illumination which his shop-assistant had provided himself with, cried out: "Hold, Gildas! Are you crazy? Put the candle back on the table, quick. The devil take it! You would blow us all up, my boy!" "Blow us all up!" echoed Gildas, terror-stricken, and he bounded away from the bale, while Sacrovir himself placed the candle on the table. "What should blow us up?" "The cartridges, my lad, which these bales contain. You must look out what you are doing." "Cartridges!" ejaculated the amazed Gildas, stepping still further back, and more and more overcome with fear, while his employer took out two guns from the chest which he had just opened, and his son drew from the same receptacle several braces of pistols, muskets and carbines. At the sight of these weapons, and knowing himself surrounded by cartridges, the head of Gildas swam, he grew pale, and leaning against a table again muttered to himself: "A puzzling house, this! Its bales of linen are filled with cartridges! Its looking glasses turn into guns and muskets and pistols!" "My good Gildas," said Lebrenn, addressing him affectionately, "there is no danger whatever in unpacking these arms and munitions. That is all I want you to do. After you have done that, you may, if you prefer, either go down into the cellar, or climb up into the garret, where you can remain in all security until after the battle. Because, I might as well let you know, there will be fighting going on with the break of day. Once you are ensconced in the hiding place that you may choose, all I warn you against is sticking your nose either out of the sky-light or out of the air-hole when the firing has begun--not infrequently bullets fly astray."