Ten Years Later by Dumas, Alexandre. Part one

you.”

“And you are still satisfied?”

“Delighted. Have you brought me any more?”

“Better than that. But do you want any?”

“Oh! not at all. Every one is willing to trust me now. I am

extending my business.”

“That was your intention.”

“I play the banker a little. I buy goods of my needy

brethren; I lend money to those who are not ready for their

payments.”

“Without usury?”

“Oh! monsieur, in the course of the last week I have had two

meetings on the boulevards, on account of the word you have

just pronounced.”

“What?”

“You shall see: it concerned a loan. The borrower gives me

in pledge some raw sugars, on condition that I should sell

if repayment were not made within a fixed period. I lend a

thousand livres. He does not pay me and I sell the sugars

for thirteen hundred livres. He learns this and claims a

hundred crowns. Ma foi! I refused, pretending that I could

not sell them for more than nine hundred livres. He accused

me of usury. I begged him to repeat that word to me behind

the boulevards. He was an old guard, and he came: and I

passed your sword through his left thigh.”

“Tu dieu! what a pretty sort of banker you make!” said

D’Artagnan.

“For above thirteen per cent. I fight,” replied Planchet;

“that is my character.”

“Take only twelve,” said D’Artagnan, “and call the rest

premium and brokerage.”

“You are right, monsieur; but to your business.”

“Ah! Planchet, it is very long and very hard to speak.”

“Do speak it, nevertheless.”

D’Artagnan twisted his mustache like a man embarrassed with

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Dumas, Alexandre – Ten Years Later

the confidence he is about to make and mistrustful of his

confidant.

“Is it an investment?” asked Planchet.

“Why, yes.”

“At good profit?”

“A capital profit, — four hundred per cent., Planchet.”

Planchet gave such a blow with his fist upon the table, that

the bottles bounded as if they had been frightened.

“Good heavens! is that possible?”

“I think it will be more,” replied D’Artagnan coolly; “but I

like to lay it at the lowest!”

“The devil!” said Planchet, drawing nearer. “Why monsieur,

that is magnificent! Can one put much money in it?”

“Twenty thousand livres each, Planchet.”

“Why, that is all you have, monsieur. For how long a time?”

“For a month.”

“And that will give us —- ”

“Fifty thousand livres each, profit.”

“It is monstrous! It is worth while to fight for such

interest as that!”

“In fact, I believe it will be necessary to fight not a

little,” said D’Artagnan, with the same tranquillity; “but

this time there are two of us, Planchet, and I shall take

all the blows to myself.”

“Oh! monsieur, I will not allow that.”

“Planchet, you cannot be concerned in it; you would be

obliged to leave your business and your family.”

“The affair is not in Paris, then?”

“No.”

“Abroad?”

“In England.”

“A speculative country, that is true,” said Planchet, — “a

country that I know well. What sort of an affair, monsieur,

without too much curiosity?”

“Planchet, it is a restoration.”

“Of monuments?”

“Yes, of monuments; we shall restore Whitehall.”

“That is important. And in a month, you think?”

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“I shall undertake it.”

“That concerns you, monsieur, and when once you are engaged

—- ”

“Yes, that concerns me. I know what I am about;

nevertheless, I will freely consult with you.”

“You do me great honor; but I know very little about

architecture.”

“Planchet, you are wrong; you are an excellent architect,

quite as good as I am, for the case in question.”

“Thanks, monsieur. But your old friends of the musketeers?”

“I have been, I confess, tempted to speak of the thing to

those gentlemen, but they are all absent from their houses.

It is vexatious, for I know none more bold or more able.”

“Ah! then it appears there will be an opposition, and the

enterprise will be disputed?”

“Oh, yes, Planchet, yes.”

“I burn to know the details, monsieur.”

“Here they are, Planchet — close all the doors tight.”

“Yes, monsieur.” And Planchet double-locked them.

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