"And what is your rate of charge for the '_odor femminino_?'"
"I will be moderate. I will let you have this article and its perfume for five thousand francs. It is actually giving it away."
"Assuredly. We will say ten and five--that makes fifteen thousand."
"One moment. You can pay for all together. I have other things to offer you. One would say that the floor burned your feet, and that you could not endure being in this room."
"I allow that I long to leave this--what shall I say?--this shop, lair, or den."
"You are young, monsieur; it never does to hurry; haste causes us acts of forgetfulness that we afterwards regret. You would be sorry not to take away with you these two scraps of paper."
At these words he drew from his note-book two letters, which he unfolded.
"Is there much more?" demanded Camille. "I fear that I shall become short of funds, and be obliged to go back for more."
"Ah! these two letters, I will not part with them for a trifle, the second especially. It is only twelve lines in length; but what pretty English handwriting! Only see! and the style is loving and tender. I will add that it is signed. Ah! monsieur, Mlle. Moriaz will be charmed to see these scrawls again. Under what obligations she will be to you! You will make the most of it; you will tell her that you wrested them from me, your dagger at my throat--that you terrified me. With what a gracious smile she will reward your heroism! According to my opinion, that smile is as well worth ten thousand francs as the medallion--the two gems are of equal value."
"If you want more, it makes no difference."
"No, monsieur; I have told you I have only one price."
"At this rate, it is twenty-five thousand francs that I owe you. You have nothing more to sell me?"
"What, monsieur! you admit, then, that Samuel Brohl has a word of honour--that when he has sworn, he can be believed?"
"That is all, then, I swear to you," affirmed Samuel, sighing. "My shop is poorly stocked; I had begun laying in a supply, but an unfortunate accident deranged my little business."
"Bah! be consoled," replied M. Langis; "you will find another opportunity; a genius of such lofty flights as yours never is at a loss. You have been unfortunate; some day Fortune will compensate you for the wrongs she has done you, and the world will accord justice to your fine talents."