“Oh, be easy! I have no design upon your count, and you shall have him all to yourself. But,” said Caderousse, again smiling with the disagreeable expression he had before assumed, “you must pay for it—you understand?”
“Well, what do you want?”
“I think that with a hundred francs a month——”
“Well?”
“I could live——”
“Upon a hundred francs!”
“Come—you understand me; but that with——”
“With?”
“With a hundred and fifty francs I should be quite happy.”
“Here are two hundred,” said Andrea; and he placed ten gold louis in the hand of Caderousse.
“Good!” said Caderousse.
“Apply to the steward on the first day of every month, and you will receive the same sum.”
“There now, again you degrade me.”
“How so?”
“By making me apply to the servants, when I want to transact business with you alone.”
“Well, be it so, then. Take it from me then, and so long at least as I receive my income, you shall be paid yours.”
“Come, come; I always said you were a fine fellow, and it is a blessing when good fortune happens to such as you. But tell me all about it?”
“Why do you wish to know?” asked Cavalcanti.
“What? do you again defy me?”
“No; the fact is, I have found my father.”
“What? a real father?”
“Yes, so long as he pays me——”
“You’ll honor and believe him—that’s right. What is his name?”
“Major Cavalcanti.”
“Is he pleased with you?”
“So far I have appeared to answer his purpose.”