Ten Years Later by Dumas, Alexandre. Part two

“What? To call yourself Malicorne the first?”

“No; to make you superintendent of my finances; but that is

not the question now.”

“Unfortunately.”

“The present affair is to procure for me a second place of

maid of honor.”

“My friend, if you were to promise me the price of heaven, I

would decline to disturb myself at this moment.” Malicorne

chinked the money in his pocket.

“There are twenty pistoles here,” said Malicorne.

“And what would you do with twenty pistoles, mon Dieu!”

“Well!” said Malicorne, a little angrily, “suppose I were to

add them to the five hundred you already owe me?”

“You are right,” replied Manicamp, stretching out his hand

again, “and from that point of view I can accept them. Give

them to me.”

“An instant, what the devil! it is not only holding out your

hand that will do; if I give you the twenty pistoles, shall

I have my brevet?”

“To be sure you shall.”

“Soon?”

“To-day.”

“Oh! take care! Monsieur de Manicamp; you undertake much,

and I do not ask that. Thirty leagues in a day is too much,

you would kill yourself.”

“I think nothing impossible when obliging a friend.”

“You are quite heroic.”

“Where are the twenty pistoles?”

“Here they are,” said Malicorne, showing them.

“That’s well.”

“Yes, but my dear M. Manicamp, you would consume them in

post-horses alone!”

“No, no, make yourself easy on that score.”

“Pardon me. Why, it is fifteen leagues from this place to

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Etampes?”

“Fourteen.”

“Well! fourteen be it; fourteen leagues makes seven posts;

at twenty sous the post, seven livres; seven livres the

courier, fourteen; as many for coming back, twenty-eight! as

much for bed and supper, that makes sixty livres this

complaisance would cost.”

Manicamp stretched himself like a serpent in his bed, and

fixing his two great eyes upon Malicorne, “You are right,”

said he; “I could not return before to-morrow;” and he took

the twenty pistoles.

“Now, then, be off!”

“Well, as I cannot be back before to-morrow. we have time.”

“Time for what?”

“Time to play.”

“What do you wish to play with?

“Your twenty pistoles, pardieu!”

“No; you always win.”

“I will wager them, then.”

“Against what?”

“Against twenty others.”

“And what shall be the object of the wager?”

“This. We have said it was fourteen leagues to Etampes?”

“Yes.”

“And fourteen leagues back?

“Doubtless.”

“Well; for these twenty-eight leagues you cannot allow less

than fourteen hours?”

“That is agreed.”

“One hour to find the Comte de Guiche.

“Go on.”

“And an hour to persuade him to write a letter to Monsieur.”

“Just so.”

“Sixteen hours in all?”

“You reckon as well as M. Colbert.”

“It is now twelve o’clock.”

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Dumas, Alexandre – Ten Years Later

“Half-past.”

“Hein! — you have a handsome watch!”

“What were you saying?” said Malicorne, putting his watch

quickly back into his fob.

“Ah! true; I was offering to lay you twenty pistoles against

these you have lent me, that you will have the Comte de

Guiche’s letter in —- ”

“How soon?”

“In eight hours.”

“Have you a winged horse, then?”

“That is no matter. Will you bet?”

“I shall have the comte’s letter in eight hours?”

“Yes.”

“In hand?”

“In hand.”

“Well, be it so; I lay,” said Malicorne, curious to know how

this seller of clothes would get through.

“Is it agreed?”

“It is.”

“Pass me the pen, ink, and paper.

“Here they are.”

“Thank you.”

Manicamp raised himself with a sigh, and leaning on his left

elbow, in his best hand, traced the following lines: —

“Good for an order for a place of maid of honor to Madame,

which M. le Comte de Guiche will take upon him to obtain at

sight.

“De Manicamp.”

This painful task accomplished, he laid himself down in bed

again.

“Well!” asked Malicorne, “what does this mean?”

“That means that if you are in a hurry to have the letter

from the Comte de Guiche for Monsieur, I have won my wager.”

“How the devil is that?”

“That is transparent enough, I think; you take that paper.”

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“Well?”

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