He cast upon his four superiors sitting at table, and also upon Sibilet, that look of mingled distrust and servility which serves as a veil to the thoughts of the peasantry; then he brandished his amphibian with a triumphant air.
"Here it is!" he cried, addressing Blondet.
"My otter!" returned the Parisian, "and well paid for." "Oh, my dear gentleman," replied Pere Fourchon, "yours got away; she is now in her burrow, and she won't come out, for she's a female,--this is a male; Mouche saw him coming just as you went away.

As true as you live, as true as that Monsieur le comte covered himself and his cuirassiers with glory at Waterloo, the otter is mine, just as much as Les Aigues belongs to Monseigneur the general.

But the otter is _yours_ for twenty francs; if not I'll take it to the sub-prefect.

If Monsieur Gourdon thinks it too dear, then I'll give you the preference; that's only fair, as we hunted together this morning!" "Twenty francs!" said Blondet.

"In good French you can't call that _giving_ the preference." "Hey, my dear gentleman," cried the old fellow.