“‘Yes, my lord.’
“‘How much were they worth?’”
“Why,” said Porthos, “that was very good of him, it seems to me.”
“‘A thousand pistoles,’ I said.”
“A thousand pistoles!” Porthos exclaimed. “Oh! oh! that is a large sum. If he knew anything about horses he would dispute the price.”
“Faith! he was very much inclined to do so, the contemptible fellow. He made a great start and looked at me. I also looked at him; then he understood, and putting his hand into a drawer, he took from it a quantity of notes on a bank in Lyons.”
“For a thousand pistoles?”
“For a thousand pistoles—just that amount, the beggar; not one too many.”
“And you have them?”
“They are here.”