"Pardon me, count, pardon me."
"Then I may keep this money!"
"Yes," said Danglars, while the perspiration started from the roots of his hair. "Yes, keep it—keep it."
Monte-Cristo replaced the notes in his pocket with that indescribable expression which seemed to say, "Come, reflect; if you repent there is still time."
"No," said Danglars, "no, decidedly no; keep my signatures. But you know none are so formal as bankers in transacting business; I intended this money for the hospital, and I seemed to be robbing them if I did not pay them with these precise bonds. How absurd! as if one crown were not as good as another. Excuse me." And he began to laugh loudly, but nervously.
"Certainly, I excuse you," said Monte-Cristo, graciously, "and pocket them." And he placed the bonds in his pocket-book.
"But," said Danglars, "there is still a sum of one hundred thousand francs?"
"Oh! a mere nothing," said Monte-Cristo. "The balance would come to about that sum; but keep it, and we shall be quits."
"Count," said Danglars, "are you speaking seriously?"
"I never joke with bankers," said Monte-Cristo in a freezing manner, which bordered on impertinence; and he turned to the door, just as the valet-de-chambre announced:
"M. de Boville, Receiver-General of the Hospitals."
"Ma foi!" said Monte-Cristo; "I think I arrived just in time to obtain your signatures, or there would have been another claimant."
Danglars again became pale, and hastened to conduct the count out. Monte-Cristo exchanged a ceremonious bow with M. de Boville, who was standing in the waiting-room, and who was introduced into Danglars' room as soon as the count had left.
The count's serious face was illumined by a faint smile, as he noticed the portfolio which the receiver-general held in his hand. At the door he found his carriage, and was immediately driven to the bank. Meanwhile Danglars, repressing all emotion, advanced to meet the receiver-general. We need not say that a smile of condescension was stamped upon his lips.
"Good-mornmg, creditor," said he; "for I wager anything it is the creditor who visits me."
"You are right, baron," answered M. de Boville; "the hospitals present themselves to you through me; the widows and orphans depute me to receive alms to the amount of five millions from you."
"And yet they say orphans are to be pitied," said Danglars, wishing to prolong the jest. "Poor things!"
