Part 24

“'He would do far better to keep quiet.'

“But, suddenly, my father appeared to be worried; he retreated a few steps, stared at his family gathered around the old shell opener, and quickly came toward us. He seemed very pale, with a peculiar look. In a low voice he said to my mother:

“'It's extraordinary how that man opening the oysters looks like Jules.'

“Astonished, my mother asked:

“'What Jules?'

“My father continued:

“'Why, my brother. If I did not know that he was well off in America, I should think it was he.'

“Bewildered, my mother stammered:

“'You are crazy! As long as you know that it is not he, why do you say such foolish things?'

“But my father insisted:

“'Go on over and see, Clarisse! I would rather have you see with your own eyes.'

“She arose and walked to her daughters. I, too, was watching the man. He was old, dirty, wrinkled, and did not lift his eyes from his work.

“My mother returned. I noticed that she was trembling. She exclaimed quickly:

“'I believe that it is he. Why don't you ask the captain? But be very careful that we don't have this rogue on our hands again!'

“My father walked away, but I followed him. I felt strangely moved.

“The captain, a tall, thin man, with blond whiskers, was walking along the bridge with an important air as if he were commanding the Indian mail steamer.

“My father addressed him ceremoniously, and questioned him about his profession, adding many compliments:

“'What might be the importance of Jersey? What did it produce? What was the population? The customs? The nature of the soil?' etc., etc.

“'You have there an old shell opener who seems quite interesting. Do you know anything about him?'

“The captain, whom this conversation began to weary, answered dryly:

“'He is some old French tramp whom I found last year in America, and I brought him back. It seems that he has some relatives in Havre, but that he doesn't wish to return to them because he owes them money. His name is Jules--Jules Darmanche or Darvanche or something like that. It seems that he was once rich over there, but you can see what's left of him now.'

“My father turned ashy pale and muttered, his throat contracted, his eyes haggard.

“'Ah! ah! very well, very well. I'm not in the least surprised. Thank you very much, captain.'

“He went away, and the astonished sailor watched him disappear. He returned to my mother so upset that she said to him:

“'Sit down; some one will notice that something is the matter.'

“He sank down on a bench and stammered:

“'It's he! It's he!'

“Then he asked: