"There, that will do, my good gentleman."

Blondet stood where he was told without remarking the lapse of time,
for every now and then the old fellow made him a sign as much as to
say that all was going well; and besides, nothing makes time go so
fast as the expectation that quick action is to succeed the perfect
stillness of watching.

"Pere Fourchon," whispered the boy, finding himself alone with the old
man, "there's _really_ an otter!"

"Do you see it?"

"There, see there!"

The old fellow was dumb-founded at beholding under water the
reddish-brown fur of an actual otter.

"It's coming my way!" said the child.

"Hit him a sharp blow on the head and jump into the water and hold him
fast down, but don't let him go!"

Mouche dove into the water like a frightened frog.

"Come, come, my good gentleman," cried Pere Fourchon to Blondet,
jumping into the water and leaving his sabots on the bank, "frighten
him! frighten him! Don't you see him? he is swimming fast your way!"