On his return, just before the arrival of the Latournelles, he had taken his pistols from his bed's head and placed them on the chimney-piece, concealing this action from Modeste.

The young girl took no notice whatever of these preparations, singular as they were.
Though short, thick-set, pockmarked, and speaking always in a low voice as if listening to himself, this Breton, a former lieutenant in the Guard, showed the evidence of such resolution, such sang-froid on his face that throughout life, even in the army, no one had ever ventured to trifle with him.

His little eyes, of a calm blue, were like bits of steel.

His ways, the look on his face, his speech, his carriage, were all in keeping with the short name of Dumay.

His physical strength, well-known to every one, put him above all danger of attack.