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THE COUNT OF MONTE CRISTO
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"Why, truly," replied Monte-Cristo, determined not to lose an inch of the ground he had gained, "my reason for desiring an 'unlimited' credit was precisely because I did not know what money I might expend."

The banker now thought it his turn to get the upper hand. Flinging himself back, therefore, in his arm-chair, he said with an arrogant air:

"Do not hesitate in naming your wishes; you will then be convinced that the resources of the house of Danglars, however limited, are still equal to meeting the largest demands; and were you even to require a million——"

"I beg your pardon," interposed Monte-Cristo.

"I said a million," replied Danglars, with a pompous air.

"A million!" retorted the count; "and what could I do with a million? My dear sir, if a million could suffice me, I should never have given myself the trouble of opening on account for so contemptible an amount. A million! Excuse my smiling when you speak of a sum I am in the habit of carrying in my pocket-book or dressing-case."

And with these words Monte-Cristo took from his pocket a small case containing his visiting-cards, and drew forth two orders on the treasury for five hundred thousand francs each, payable at sight to the bearer. A knock-down blow, not a prick, is needed for men like Danglars, and its effect on the banker was perfectly stunning; his head felt giddy, and he stared with dull, dilated eyes at the count.

"Come, come," said Monte-Cristo, "confess that you have not confidence in the house of Thomson and French there is nothing very strange in that; however, foreseeing that such might be the case, I took my precautions, although not a man of business. See, here are two similar letters to that you have yourself received; the one from the house of Arstein and Eskoles, of Vienna, to Baron de Rothschild; the other drawn from Baring, of London, to M. Lafitte. Now, sir, say the word, and I will spare you all uneasiness by presenting my letter of credit at one or other of these establishments."

The blow had struck home, and Danglars was vanquished; with a trembling hand he took the two letters from Vienna and London from the count, who held them carelessly between his finger and thumb. Having carefully verified the signatures, with a scrutiny which might have appeared insulting to the count, had it not suited his present purpose to mislead the banker in every respect.

"Well, sir," said Danglars, rising, as though in adoration of the power of gold, personified in the man before him, "three unlimited credits on our three banks! While ceasing all mistrust, pardon me, M. le Comte, for confessing the most extreme astonishment."