“This is shocking! it is horrible! and yet I cannot help laughing! Really, this idea of manufacturing a monkey—Poterne, it’s a pity that you are such a vile knave, for you have much imagination. But let us suppose that Chérubin has bought this counterfeit monkey—is Monsieur Bruno inclined to remain an animal all his life?”
“Why, no,” replied Poterne; “once in the house, he will cleverly choose the moment to take flight; he will escape in one way or another—by the chimney, if need be; for he has been a sweep, and he is perfectly at home climbing chimneys. That part of it doesn’t concern me, you see; I sell a monkey and get my money; it isn’t my fault if you let him escape. Ha! ha!”
The boy, hearing Poterne laugh, followed his example, imitating anew the monkey’s wild chatter, and leaping over all the furniture in the room in order to develop his talent.
“Well,” said Daréna, after a moment, “you will lose the expense of educating him, Poterne; this little scamp may play the monkey on the boulevards, but he won’t do it in our young pupil’s house!”
“Why not, pray?”
“Why not? Because you are a villain, a swindler, a thief!”
Monsieur Poterne looked at the count with an expression which said plainly enough: “You’ve known that a long while; why pretend to be so surprised?”
“I have no objection to your selling things at rather a high figure to my young friend, because tradesmen always get as much as they can. That is business and nothing else. But I do not propose that you shall abuse Chérubin’s confidence to the point of cheating him outrageously; and that is just what you have done, master thief!”
Poterne rolled his eyes in amazement, muttering:
“I don’t see where the great harm comes in! I told him they were preserved pineapples, and they’re turnips; but they can’t hurt him; on the contrary, they’re less heating.”