He stopped short and looked across the street. Right opposite stood Barbera’s cabaret. A thought occurred to him. He entered the place, and beckoning to the proprietor, they went upstairs to the latter’s room.
“Do you want to make a louis d’or, Barbera?”
“I could make a good many if that English admiral would let his sailors come ashore.”
“Well, if you wish to earn from me what you can’t earn from the sailors, sit down here and write a letter which I will dictate to you.”
Villefort began:
“Monsieur Angelo Barbera solicits an immediate visit. He has learned of a plot against your life, but prefers to disclose particulars to you in person. Mention this matter to no one. Bring this letter with you for identification.”
“Now fold it up and seal it,” said Villefort.
“To whom shall I address it?” asked Barbera.
“I will attend to that,” said Villefort. “Give me the letter.”
“Where is my louis d’or?”