But Bok was by no means through with non-copyright echoes, for he was destined next day to take part in an even stormier interview on the same subject with Alexander Dumas _fils_. Bok had been publishing a series of articles in which authors had told how they had been led to write their most famous books, and he wanted Dumas to tell "How I Came to Write 'Camille.'"
To act as translator this time, Bok took a trusted friend with him, whose services he found were needed, as Dumas was absolutely without knowledge of English. No sooner was the editor's request made known to him than the storm broke. Dumas, hotly excited, denounced the Americans as robbers who had deprived him of his rightful returns on his book and play, and ended by declaring that he would trust no American editor or publisher.
The mutual friend explained the new copyright conditions and declared that Bok intended to treat the author honorably. But Dumas was not to be mollified. He launched forth upon a new arraignment of the Americans; dishonesty was bred in their bones! and they were robbers by instinct. All of this distinctly nettled Bok's Americanism. The interpreting friend finally suggested that the article should be written while Bok was in Paris; that he should be notified when the manuscript was ready, that he should then appear with the actual money in hand in French notes; and that Dumas should give Bok the manuscript when Bok handed Dumas the money.
"After I count it," said Dumas.
This was the last straw!
"Pray ask him," Bok suggested to the interpreter, "what assurance I have that he will deliver the manuscript to me after he has the money." The friend protested against translating this thrust, but Bok insisted, and Dumas, not knowing what was coming, insisted that the message be given him. When it was, the man was a study; he became livid with rage.
"But," persisted Bok, "say to Monsieur Dumas that I have the same privilege of distrusting him as he apparently has of distrusting me."
And Bok can still see the violent gesticulations of the storming French author, his face burning with passionate anger, as the two left him.
Edward Bok now sincerely hoped that his encounters with the absence of a law that has been met were at an end!
Rosa Bonheur, the painter of "The Horse Fair," had been represented to Bok as another recluse who was as inaccessible as Kate Greenaway. He had known of the painter's intimate relations with the ex-Empress Eugenie, and desired to get these reminiscences. Everybody dissuaded him; but again taking a French friend he made the journey to Fontainebleau, where the artist lived in a chateau in the little village of By.