Argosy, Vol. 122, No. 1 — page 36: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

26 matter when he heard other footsteps com- ing up, but light ones and attended by a faint rustle of silk. This was a visitor whose intrusion boded no ill surely, and Charlot quickly opened the door to Marcelle, who had much to say to him and he to her since twelve hours had passed since they parted. In order that his mind might not dwell too much upon his change of abode, seem- ingly not far distant, Charlot spent some time in drawing for Marcele the plan of a magnificent chateau which he proposed to share with her in the future, naturally, when the clouds had rolled by and money was plentiful as sunshine. They had agreed upon the number of salons, entrance halls | and lounging-rooms, with a special studio for the production of non-commercial pee- try, and had just reached consideration of the bedchamber of the proprietor and his consort, when unfortunately Caparolle chose to return with his copper plate and stopped them at the threshold over which they were preparing to step. “Don’t mind me,” said Caparolle, set- ting himself down at his etching table. “I have promised this plate within twenty-four hours.” “We are just planning a castle,”’ Charlot explained. “I had in mind a delightful studio for you in the left wing—servants’ accommodation—private banking house— everything complete.”’ “The richest man in the world is he who can draw upon the Bank of Imagina- tion,” said Caparolle, who, to do him jus- tice, was as sharp with his tongue as the acid with which he bit into his copper plates. ‘‘ Only its notes do not stand very high at the Bourse. Heaven! The country must be spotted with your castles, Charlot. I had better get busy. Don’t go, Mar- celle.” But Marcelle saw that it was time for her to depart so that those two Titans of industry might settle down to their toil, and bestowing an embrace upon Charlot and an encouraging word of comfort to Capa- rolle, took her leave. Caparolle set his hundred-frac note up in front of him to serve as model for his pro- posed note upon the Bank of Love, to- THE ARGOSY. gether with the first plate he had etched, and bent over the table. Charlot returned from his country estate to his copying. Suddenly soft footsteps again approached. Marcelle had forgotten something. Once more she wanted to say farewell. The poet dashed to the door and flung it open, only to meet the little eyes of M. Tequet who stood there puffing. and grinning. The old rascal had seen Mar-- celle go up, and come down after an inter- val long enough to lead him to believe that she had found Charlot at home. You can imagine Charlot’s confusion. Well,” demanded Toquet, “has hon- esty prevailed? Where is my rent. I sup- pose you flew from the window to get it and returned the same way. Riches have wings, as they say.” He thrust his way in and walked over to Caparolle. ‘“M. Capfirolle, I trust you are ready to pay your rent. Otherwise, out into the street you go, you and your glib friend.” Caparolle looked up. “Eh? Why, it is you, old spider. Can’t you see I am busy? Run away.” Toquet’s eyes opened wide and he leaned forward. Caparolle caught his claw in time. “No, you don’t.” ) “But you have a hundred-franc note there. A new note.” “Well, what about it?” Toquet stared at the copper plate which Caparolle had already etched, then picked it up and held it to his short-sighted eyes. “The devil! A bank-note!” he ejacu- lated. | . ‘Yes, why not. Heaven! Will you get out and let me work?”’ ‘And you made this money to-day?” said Toquet, blinking and screwing up his face. ‘Certainly I made that money to-day; that very note, , I make money sometimes, M. Toquet,”’ said Capargile innocently. Toquet stood grimacing, then fumbled in his pocket ang produced. .@ tattered pocket- book from which he drew a bundle of notes. “TI want a clean bill for a present,” he announced. “ They are very hard to get, M. Caparolle. Suppose I take your bill cComiclbooks.com