And above:
Popolasca is dead. Election in Corsica soon. You are official candidate.
A deputy! That means salvation. With that he has nothing to fear. A representative of the great French nation is not to be treated like a simple mercanti. Down with the Hemerlingues!
"O my duke, my noble duke!"
He was so excited that he could not sign the receipt.
"Where's the man who brought this despatch?" he asked abruptly.
"Here, Monsieur Jansoulet," replied a hearty voice from the hall, in the familiar Southern dialect.
He was a lucky dog, that messenger.
"Come in," said the Nabob.
And, after handing him his receipt, he plunged his hands into his pockets, which were always full, grasped as many gold pieces as he could hold and threw them into the poor devil's cap as he stood there stammering, bewildered, dazzled by the fortune that had befallen him in the darkness of that enchanted palace.