So it was no dream.
Until noon I sauntered about in order to kill time. At precisely twelve o'clock I was at Tortoni's, and found my broker already expecting me. He had ordered lunch: Four dozen oysters, woodcock, artichokes, giardinetto. Wines: Chablis, Chateau Lafitte, Grand Vin Mumm, etc.
"Wonderful victory!" said he, taking my hand. "Écrasant defeat of the contremine! Sir, Napoleon has capitulated before King William; I capitulate before you. You know more of the psychology of the Money Market than I!"
I to know the psychology of the Money Market? was not that excessively absurd?
"It is easy to understand," he continued. "You are home from the French camp. Evidently you have not gone there to plaster sores or set broken bones, but to have an opportunity for watching the development of the situation, and the movements of the forces. Oh if all 'matadores' would only be as prudent! But this course requires pluck, courage, and perfect coolness. You already knew that MacMahon was hemmed in, and that the Emperor shared the same fate. It was easy to foresee the ensuing surrender, and you made use of the means provided for your escape. You gave me instructions; I have carried out your order, and here is the result. Four millions are the prize of this one day."
"But how is it possible?" asked I.
"Pray don't try to play the simpleton before me. Of course, you had calculated that, with the capitulation and the capture of the Emperor, the war was at an end. The French have no organised armies left, and are, therefore, compelled to make peace. The Stock Market anticipates the conclusion of peace, and forces up French securities. What shall I do with your eight millions?"
What? I hardly knew. Throw it into the ocean; it would come back to me, like the ring of Polycrates. Nay, not like that, for it kept hatching, and came back like a hen with a brood of chickens—that is, millions. This odious money sticks to me like so many burs, and I cannot get rid of it. Fortune is called a goddess. To me she was a "She-devil;" her gold was choking me.
"Did you come from Paris alone?" asked the broker.
"No; my wife is with me."