were lively, and went into the bakehouse to fetch planks, nails, and
tools.

"Can I help you?" cried Nanon, hearing him hammer on the stairs.

"No, no! I'm an old hand at it," answered the former cooper.

At the moment when Grandet was mending his worm-eaten staircase and
whistling with all his might, in remembrance of the days of his youth,
the three Cruchots knocked at the door.

"Is it you, Monsieur Cruchot?" asked Nanon, peeping through the little
grating.

"Yes," answered the president.

Nanon opened the door, and the light from the hearth, reflected on the
ceiling, enabled the three Cruchots to find their way into the room.

"Ha! you've come a-greeting," said Nanon, smelling the flowers.

"Excuse me, messieurs," cried Grandet, recognizing their voices; "I'll
be with you in a moment. I'm not proud; I am patching up a step on my
staircase."

"Go on, go on, Monsieur Grandet; a man's house is his castle," said
the president sententiously.

Madame and Mademoiselle Grandet rose. The president, profiting by the
darkness, said to Eugenie: