"No, my son, we don't do that
here nowadays."
"Oh!" said Montes, "I am not a native of this country. I live in a
parish where I can laugh at your laws; and if you give me proof--"
"Well, that note. Is that nothing?"
"No," said the Brazilian. "I do not believe in the writing. I must see
for myself."
"See!" cried Carabine, taking the hint at once from a gesture of her
supposed aunt. "You shall see, my dear Tiger, all you wish to see--on
one condition."
"And that is?"
"Look at Cydalise."
At a wink from Madame Nourrisson, Cydalise cast a tender look at the
Baron.
"Will you be good to her? Will you make her a home?" asked Carabine.
"A girl of such beauty is well worth a house and a carriage! It would
be a monstrous shame to leave her to walk the streets. And besides
--she is in debt.--How much do you owe?" asked Carabine, nipping
Cydalise's arm.
"She is worth all she can get," said the old woman. "The point is that
she can find a buyer."
"Listen!" cried Montes, fully aware at last of this masterpiece of
womankind "you will show me Valerie--"
"And Count Steinbock.--Certainly!" said Madame Nourrisson.
For the past ten minutes the old woman had been watching the
Brazilian; she saw that he was an instrument tuned up to the murderous
pitch she needed; and, above all, so effectually blinded, that he
would never heed who had led him on to it, and she spoke:--
"Cydalise, my Brazilian jewel, is my niece, so her concerns are partly
mine.
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