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Книга довольно хорошо написана в виде рассказов старого человека молодому парню, основанных на событиях его реальной жизни, охватывающей период с нача...
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Ten Years Later
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“There are twenty pistoles here,” said Malicorne.
“And what would you do with twenty pistoles, mon Dieu!”
“Well!” said Malicorne, a little angry, “suppose I were to add them to the five hundred you already owe me?”
“You are right,” replied Manicamp, stretching out his hand again, “and from that point of view I can accept them. Give them to me.”
“An instant, what the devil! it is not only holding out your hand that will do; if I give you the twenty pistoles, shall I have my brevet?”
“To be sure you shall.”
“Soon?”
“To-day.”
“Oh! take care! Monsieur de Manicamp; you undertake much, and I do not ask that. Thirty leagues in a day is too much, you would kill yourself.”
“I think nothing impossible when obliging a friend.”
“You are quite heroic.”
“Where are the twenty pistoles?”
“Here they are,” said Malicorne, showing them.
“That’s well.”
“Yes, but my dear M. Manicamp, you would consume them in post-horses alone!”
“No, no, make yourself easy on that score.”
“Pardon me. Why, it is fifteen leagues from this place to Etampes?”
“Fourteen.”
“Well! fourteen be it; fourteen leagues makes seven posts; at twenty sous the post, seven livres; seven livres the courier, fourteen; as many for coming back, twenty-eight! as much for bed and supper, that makes sixty livres this complaisance would cost.”
Manicamp stretched himself like a serpent in his bed, and fixing his two great eyes upon Malicorne, “You are right,” said he; “I could not return before to-morrow;” and he took the twenty pistoles.
“Now, then, be off!”
“Well, as I cannot be back before to-morrow, we have time.”
“Time for what?”
“Time to play.”
“What do you wish to play with?”
“Your twenty pistoles, pardieu!”
“No; you always win.”
“I will wager them, then.”
“Against what?”
“Against twenty others.”
“And what shall be the object of the wager?”
“This. We have said it was fourteen leagues to Etampes.”
“Yes.”
“And fourteen leagues back?”
“Doubtless.”
“Well; for these twenty-eight leagues you cannot allow less than fourteen hours?”
“That is agreed.”
“One hour to find the Comte de Guiche.”
“Go on.”
“And an hour to persuade him to write a letter to Monsieur.”
“Just so.”
“Sixteen hours in all?”
“You reckon as well as M. Colbert.”
“It is now twelve o’clock.”
“Half-past.”
“Hein!– you have a handsome watch!”
“What were you saying?” said Malicorne, putting his watch quickly back into his fob.
“Ah! true; I was offering to lay you twenty pistoles against these you have lent me, that you will have the Comte de Guiche’s letter in – ”
“How soon?”
“In eight hours.”
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Книга довольно хорошо написана в виде рассказов старого человека молодому парню, основанных на событиях его реальной жизни, охватывающей период с нача...
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