“I wish for nothing!” thundered Raphael.
“Bravo!” Taillefer exclaimed; “you understand your position; a fortune confers the privilege of being impertinent. You are one of us. Gentlemen, let us drink to the might of gold! M. Valentin here, six times a millionaire, has become a power. He is a king, like all the rich; everything is at his disposal, everything lies under his feet. From this time forth the axiom that ‘all Frenchmen are alike in the eyes of the law,’ is for him a fib at the head of the Constitutional Charter. He is not going to obey the law—the law is going to obey him. There are neither scaffolds nor executioners for millionaires.”
“Yes, there are,” said Raphael; “they are their own executioners.”
“Here is another victim of prejudices!” cried the banker.
“Let us drink!” Raphael said, putting the talisman into his pocket.
“What are you doing?” said Emile, checking his movement. “Gentlemen,” he added, addressing the company, who were rather taken aback by Raphael’s behavior, “you must know that our friend Valentin here—what am I saying?—I mean my Lord Marquis de Valentin—is in the possession of a secret for obtaining wealth. His wishes are fulfilled as soon as he knows them. He will make us all rich together, or he is a flunkey, and devoid of all decent feeling.”
“Oh, Raphael dear, I should like a set of pearl ornaments!” Euphrasia exclaimed.
“If he has any gratitude in him, he will give me a couple of carriages with fast steppers,” said Aquilina.
“Wish for a hundred thousand a year for me!”
“Indian shawls!”