“Well, such things have been.”
“That there should be a famine!”
“Recollect the seven fat and the seven lean kine.”
“Or, that the sea should become dry, as in the days of Pharaoh, and even then my vessels would become caravans.”
“So much the better. I congratulate you, my dear M. Danglars,” said Monte Cristo; “I see I was deceived, and that you belong to the class of second-rate fortunes.”
“I think I may aspire to that honor,” said Danglars with a smile, which reminded Monte Cristo of the sickly moons which bad artists are so fond of daubing into their pictures of ruins. “But, while we are speaking of business,” Danglars added, pleased to find an opportunity of changing the subject, “tell me what I am to do for M. Cavalcanti.”
“Give him money, if he is recommended to you, and the recommendation seems good.”
“Excellent; he presented himself this morning with a bond of 40,000 francs, payable at sight, on you, signed by Busoni, and returned by you to me, with your endorsement—of course, I immediately counted him over the forty bank-notes.”
Monte Cristo nodded his head in token of assent.
“But that is not all,” continued Danglars; “he has opened an account with my house for his son.”