So large a portion of the vessel had been appropriated to the cargo that the space reserved for the cabin was of most meager dimensions. In one corner of the compartment stood a small iron stove, in which smoldered a bare handful of coals; in another was a trestle-board which served as a bed; two or three stools and a rickety deal table, together with a few cooking utensils, completed a stock of furniture which was worthy of its proprietor.
On entering the cabin, Ben Zoof's first proceeding was to throw on the fire a liberal supply of coals, utterly regardless of the groans of poor Isaac, who would almost as soon have parted with his own bones as submit to such reckless expenditure of his fuel. The perishing temperature of the cabin, however, was sufficient justification for the orderly's conduct, and by a little skillful manipulation he soon succeeded in getting up a tolerable fire.
The visitors having taken what seats they could, Hakkabut closed the door, and, like a prisoner awaiting his sentence, stood with folded hands, expecting the captain to speak.
"Listen," said Servadae; "we have come to ask a favor."
Imagining that at least half his property was to be confiscated, the Jew began to break out into his usual formula about being a poor man and having nothing to spare; but Servadac, without heeding his complainings, went on: "We are not going to ruin you, you know."
Hakkabut looked keenly into the captain's face.
"We have only come to know whether you can lend us a spring-balance."
So far from showing any symptom of relief, the old miser exclaimed, with a stare of astonishment, as if he had been asked for some thousand francs: "A spring-balance?"
"Yes!" echoed the professor, impatiently; "a spring-balance."
"Haven't you one?" asked Servadac.
"To be sure he has!" said Ben Zoof.
Old Isaac stammered and stuttered, but at last confessed that perhaps there might be one amongst the stores.
"Then, surely, you will not object to lend it to us?" said the captain.
"Only for one day," added the professor.
The Jew stammered again, and began to object. "It is a very delicate instrument, your Excellency. The cold, you know, the cold may do injury to the spring; and perhaps you are going to use it to weigh something very heavy."
"Why, old Ephraim, do you suppose we are going to weigh a mountain with it?" said Ben Zoof.
"Better than that!" cried out the professor, triumphantly; "we are going to weigh Gallia with it—my comet."
"Merciful Heaven!" shrieked Isaac, feigning consternation at the bare suggestion.
Servadac knew well enough that the Jew was holding out only for a good bargain, and assured him that the scale was required for no other purpose than to weigh a kilogram, which (considering how much lighter everything had become) could not possibly put the slightest strain upon the instrument.
The Jew still spluttered, and moaned, and hesitated.
"Well, then," said Servadac, "if you do not like to lend us your scale, do you object to selling it to us?"
Isaac fairly shrieked aloud. "God of Israel!" he ejaculated, "sell my spring-balance? Would you deprive me of one of the most indispensable of my means of livelihood? How should I weigh my merchandise without my spring-balance—my solitary spring-balance, so delicate and so correct?"
The orderly wondered how his master could refrain from strangling the old miser upon the spot; but Servadac, rather amused than otherwise, determined to try another form of persuasion. "Come, Hakkabut, I see that you are not disposed either to lend or to sell your balance. What do you say to letting us hire it?"
The Jew's eyes twinkled with a satisfaction that he was unable to conceal. "But what security would you give? The instrument is very valuable;" and he looked more cunning than ever.
"What is it worth? If it is worth twenty francs, I will leave a deposit of a hundred. Will that satisfy you?"
He shook his head doubtfully. "It is very little; indeed, it is too little, your Excellency. Consider, it is the only spring-balance in all this new world of ours; it is worth more, much more. If I take your deposit it must be in gold—all gold. But how much do you agree to give me for the hire—the hire, one day?"
"You shall have twenty francs," said Servadac.
"Oh, it is dirt cheap; but never mind, for one day, you shall have it. Deposit in gold money a hundred francs, and twenty francs for the hire." The old man folded his hands in meek resignation.
"The fellow knows how to make a good bargain," said Servadac, as Isaac, after casting a distrustful look around, went out of the cabin.
"Detestable old wretch!" replied the count, full of disgust.
Hardly a minute elapsed before the Jew was back again, carrying his precious instrument with ostentatious care. It was of an ordinary kind. A spring balance, fitted with a hook, held the article to be weighed; a pointer, revolving on a disc, indicated the weight of the article. Professor Rosette was manifestly right in asserting that such a machine would register results quite independently of any change in the force of attraction. On the earth it would have registered a kilogram as a kilogram; here it recorded a different value altogether, as the result of the altered force of gravity.
Gold coinage to the worth of one hundred and twenty francs was handed over to the Jew, who clutched at the money with unmistakable eagerness. The balance was committed to the keeping of Ben Zoof, and the visitors prepared to quit the Hansa.
All at once it occurred to the professor that the balance would be absolutely useless to him, unless he had the means for ascertaining the precise measurement of the unit of the soil of Gallia which he proposed to weigh. "Something more you must lend me," he said, addressing the Jew.
"I must have a measure, and I must have a kilogram."
"I have neither of them," answered Isaac. "I have neither. I am sorry; I am very sorry." And this time the old Jew spoke the truth. He would have been really glad to do another stroke or two of business upon terms as advantageous as the transaction he had just concluded.
