“But everybody says that you have made two hundred thousand florins by it.”
“That would not be so bad; half a million of francs would be a fair foundation on which to build a fortune; but I can assure your excellence that there is not a word of truth in the report. I defy anyone to prove it; and till some substantial proof is offered, I think I can lay claim to brokerage.”
“True, true. Go to the comptroller-general and state your views to him.”
M. de Boulogne stopped the occupation on which he was engaged to give me a most friendly greeting, but when I said that he owed me a hundred thousand florins he smiled sardonically.
“I happen to know,” he said, “that you have bills of exchange to the amount of a hundred thousand crowns payable to yourself.”
“Certainly, but that money has no connection with my mission, as I can prove to you by referring you to M. d’Afri. I have in my head an infallible project for increasing the revenue by twenty millions, in a manner which will cause no irritation.”
“You don’t say so! Communicate your plan, and I promise to get you a pension of a hundred thousand francs, and letters of nobility as well, if you like to become a Frenchman.”
“I will think it over.”
On leaving M. de Boulogne I went to the Palace, where a ballet was going on before the Marquise de Pompadour.
She bowed to me as soon as she saw me, and on my approaching her she told me that I was an able financier, and that the “gentlemen below” could not appreciate my merits. She had not forgotten what I had said to her eight years before in the theatre at Fontainebleau. I replied that all good gifts were from above, whither, with her help, I hoped to attain.