“Damn it all,” said he, “if you and Mascarin think the business such a profitable one, why don’t you go in for it. You may perhaps think it easy to procure the kids; just try it. You have to go to Italy for most of them, then you have to smuggle them across the frontier like bales of contraband goods.”
Perpignan paused to take a breath, and Tantaine asked,—
“What sum do you make each of the lads bring in daily?”
“That depends,” answered Perpignan hesitatingly.
“Well, you can give an average?”
“Say three francs then.”
“Three francs!” repeated Tantaine with a genial smile, “and you have forty little cherubs, so that makes one hundred and twenty francs per day.”
“Absurd!” retorted Perpignan; “do you think each of the lads bring in such a sum as that?”
“Ah! you know the way to make them do so.”
“I don’t understand you,” answered Perpignan, in whose voice a shade of anxiety now began to appear.