CLUBIN had been absent from the Jean Auberge all the evening of Tuesday. On the Wednesday night he was absent again.
       In the dusk of that evening two strangers penetrated into the mazes of the Ruelle Coutanchez. They stopped in front of the Jacressade. One of them knocked at the window; the door of the shop opened, and they entered. The woman with the wooden leg met them with the smile which she reserved for respectable citizens. There was a candle on the table.
       The strangers were, in fact, respectable citizens. The one who had knocked said, "Good-day, mistress. I have come for that affair."
       The woman with the wooden leg smiled again, and went out by the back door leading to the courtyard, and where the well was. A moment afterwards the back door was opened again, and a man stood In the doorway. He wore a cap and a blouse. It was easy to see the shape of something under his blouse. He had bits of old straw in his clothes, and looked as if he had just been aroused from sleep.
       He advanced and exchanged glances with the strangers. The man in the blouse looked puzzled, but cunning; he said,-
       "You are the gunsmith?"
       The one who had tapped at the window replied,-
       "Yes; you are the man from Paris?"
       "Known as Redskin. Yes."
       "Show me the thing."
       The man took from under his blouse a weapon extremely rare at that period in Europe. It was a revolver.
       The weapon was new and bright. The two strangers examined it. The one who seemed to know the house, and whom the man in the blouse had called "the gunsmith," tried the mechanism. He passed the weapon to the other, who appeared less at home there, and kept his back turned to the light.
       The gunsmith continued,-
       "How much? "
       The man in the blouse replied,-
       "I have just brought it from America. Some people bring monkeys, parrots, and other animals, as if the French people were savages. For myself I brought this. It is a useful invention."
       "How much?" inquired the gunsmith again.
       "It is a pistol which turns and turns."
       "How much?"
       "Bang! the first fire. Bang! the second fire. Bang! the third fire. What a hailstorm of bullets! That will do some execution."
       "The price?"
       "There are six barrels."
       "Well, well, what do you want for it?"
       "Six barrels; that is six Louis."
       "Will you take five?"
       "Impossible. One Louis a ball. That is the price."
       "Come, let us do business together. Be reasonable."
       "I have named a fair price. Examine the weapon, Mr. Gunsmith."
       "I have examined it."
       "The barrel twists and turns like Talleyrand himself. The weapon ought to be mentioned in the 慏ictionary of Weathercocks.' It is a gem."
       "I have looked at it."
       "The barrels are of Spanish make."
       "I see they are."
       "They are twisted. This is how this twisting is done. They empty into a forge the basket of a collector of old iron. They fill it full of these old scraps, with old nails, and broken horse-shoes swept out of farriers' shops."
       "And old sickle-blades."
       "I was going to say so, Mr. Gunsmith. They apply to all this rubbish a good sweating heat, and this makes a magnificent material for gun-barrels."
       "Yes; but it may have cracks, flaws, or crosses."
       "True; but they remedy the crosses by little twists, and avoid the risk of doublings by beating hard. They bring their mass of iron under the great hammer; give it two more good sweating heats. If the iron has been heated too much, they retemper it with dull heats and lighter hammers. And then they take out their stuff and roll it well; and with this iron they manufacture you a weapon like this."
       "You are in the trade, I suppose?"
       "I am of all trades."
       "The barrels are pale-coloured."
       "That's the beauty of them, Mr. Gunsmith. The tint is obtained with antimony
       "It is settled, then, that we give you five Louis?"
       "Allow me to observe that I had the honour of saying six."
       The gunsmith lowered his voice.
       "Hark you, master. Take advantage of the opportunity. Get rid of this thing. A weapon of this kind is of no use to a man like you. It will make you remarked."
       "It is very true," said the Parisian. "It is rather conspicuous. It is more suited to a gentleman."
       "Will you take five Louis?"
       "No, six; one for every shot."
       "Come, six Napoleons."
       "I will have six Louis."
       "You are not a Bonapartist, then. You prefer a Louis to a Napoleon."
       The Parisian nicknamed "Redskin" smiled.
       "A Napoleon is greater," said he, "but a Louis is worth more."
       "Six Napoleons."
       "Six Louis. It makes a difference to me of four-and-twenty francs."
       "The bargain is off in that case."
       "Good: I keep the toy."
       "Keep it."
       "Beating me down! a good idea! It shall never be said that I got rid like that of a wonderful specimen of ingenuity."
       "Good-night, then."
       "It marks a whole stage in the progress of making pistols, which the Chesapeake Indians call Nortay-u-Hah."
       "Five Louis, ready money. Why, it is a handful of gold."
       "慛ortay-u-Hah,' that signifies 憇hort gun.' A good many people don't know that."
       "Will you take five Louis, and just a bit of silver?"
       "I said six, master."
       The man who kept his back to the candle, and who had not yet spoken, was spending his time during the dialogue in turning and testing the mechanism of the pistol. He approached the armourer's ear and whispered,-
       "Is it a good weapon?"
       "Excellent."
       "I will give the six Louis."
       Five minutes afterwards, while the Parisian nicknamed "Redskin" was depositing the six Louis which he had just received in a secret slit under the breast of his blouse, the armourer and his companion carrying the revolver in his trousers pocket, stepped out into the straggling street.

book i. the history of a bad reputation.
   I. A Word Written on a White Page.
   II. The Bu de la Rue.
   III. For Your Wife: When You Marry.
   IV. An Unpopular Man.
   V. More Suspicious Facts about Gilliatt.
   VI. The Dutch Sloop.
   VII. A Fit Tenant for a Haunted House
   VIII. The Gild-holm-'ur Seat.
book ii. mess lethierry.
   I. A Troubled Life, but a Quiet Conscience.
   II. A Certain Predilection.
   III. Mess Lethierry's Vulnerable Part.
book iii. durande and deruchette.
   I. Prattle and Smoke.
   II. The Old Story of Utopia.
   III. Rantaine.
   IV. Continuation of the Story of Utopia.
   V. The "Devil Boat"
   VI. Lethierry's Exaltation.
   VII. The Same Godfather and the Same Patron Saint.
   VIII. "Bonnie Dundee."
   IX. The Man Who Discovered Rantaine's Character.
   X. Long Yarns.
   XI. Matrimonial Prospects.
   XII. An Anomaly in the Character of Lethierry.
   XIII. Thoughtlessness Adds a Grace to Beauty.
book iv. the bagpipe.
   I. Streaks of Fire in the Horizon.
   II. The Unknown UnfoldS Itself by Degrees.
   III. The Air "Bonnie Dundee" Finds an Echo on the Hill.
   IV. "A serenade by night may please a lady fair, But of uncle and of guardian let the troubadour beware. Unpublished Comedy
   V. A Deserved Success has Always its Detractors.
   VI. The Sloop "Cashmere" Saves a Shipwrecked Crew.
   VII. How an Idler Had the Good Fortune to be Seen by a Fisherman.
book v. the revolver.
   I. Conversations at the Jean Auberge.
   II. Clubin Observes Some One.
   III. Clubin Carries Away Something and Brings Back Nothing.
   IV. Pleinmont.
   V. The Birds'-Nesters
   VI. The Jacressade.
   VII. Nocturnal Buyers and Mysterious Sellers.
   VIII. A "Cannon" off the Red Ball and the Black.
   IX. Useful Information for Persons Who Expect or Fear the Arrival of Letters from Beyond Sea.
book vi. the drunken steersman and the sober captain.
   I. The Douvres.
   II. An Unexpected Flask of Brandy.
   III. Conversations Interrupted.
   IV. Captain Clubin Displays All His Great Qualities.
   V. Clubin Reaches the Crowning-Point of Glory.
   VI. The Interior of an Abyss Suddenly Revealed.
   VII. An Unexpected Denouement.
book vii. the danger of opening a book at random.
   I. The Pearl at the Foot of a Precipice.
   II. Much Astonishment on the Western Coast.
   III. A Quotation from the Bible.
book i. malicious gilliatt.
   I. The Place Which is Easy to Reach, but Difficult to Leave Again.
   II. A Catalogue of Disasters.
   III. Sound, but not Safe.
   IV. A Preliminary Survey.
   V. A Word Upon the Secret Co-operations of the Elements.
   VI. A Stable for the Horse.
   VII. A Chamber for the Voyager.
   VIII. Importunaeque Volucres.
   IX. The Rock, and How Gilliatt Used It.
   X. The Forge.
   XI. Discovery.
   XII. The Interior of an Edifice Under the Sea.
   XIII. What was Seen There, and What Perceived Dimly.
book ii. the labour.
   I. The Resources of One Who Has Nothing
   II. Preparations.
   III. Gilliatt's Masterpiece Comes to the Rescue of Lethierry.
   IV. Sub Re.
   V. Sub Umbra.
   VI. Gilliatt Places the Sloop in Readiness
   VII. Sudden Danger.
   VIII. Movement Rather than Progress.
   IX. A Slip Between Cup and Lip
   X. Sea-Warnings.
   XI. Murmurs in the Air.
book iii. the struggle.
   I. Extremes Meet.
   II. The Ocean Winds.
   III. The Noises Explained.
   IV. Turba Turma.
   V. Gilliatt's Alternatives.
   VI. The Combat.
book iv. pitfalls in the way.
   I. He Who is Hungry is Not Alone.
   II. The Monster.
   III. Another Kind of Sea-Combat.
   IV. Nothing is Hidden, Nothing Lost.
   V. The Fatal Difference Between Six Inches and Two Feet.
   VI. De Profundis ad Altum.
   VII. The Appeal is Heard.
book i. night and the moon.
   I. The Harbour Clock.
   II. The Harbour Bell Again.
book ii. gratitude and despotism.
   I. Joy Surrounded by Tortures.
   II. The Leathern Trunk.
book iii. the departure of the cashmere.
   I. The Havelet Near the Church.
   II. Despair Confronts Despair.
   III. The Forethought of Self-Sacrifice
   IV. "For Your Wife When You Marry."
   V. The Great Tomb.