“The matter becomes complicated when the entire transaction is made to pass through Lyon,” said Bernard. “It is a large bolus for the Dép?t to swallow. If we could instead transfer it through a public market where there were proper banks…”
“Monsieur Bernard. You tempt me. For nothing would afford me such fascination as to sit here with you all morning and afternoon drinking coffee and discoursing of the peculiarities of Lyon and the Dép?t. Quite possibly we might have similar views on it. But as matters stand, Lyon is, by long tradition, France’s connexion to the financial system of the world, and it is through Lyon that we must send all of this money. It may be a bit quaint, a bit odd; but fortunately there are sophisticated houses there, such as the Hacklhebers, who have ready access to public markets in other cities.”
“I understand, madame,” said Bernard. “But the carrying capacity of the Dép?t is limited. France fights on more than one front. There are other demands on the credit of her treasury.”
“I have seen the silver with my own eyes, Monsieur Bernard. It was stacked in the hold of Monsieur le comte de Pontchartrain’s jacht in St.-Malo. This is merely an alternate, more prudent means of getting it to London.”
“And I do not question that, madame. But during wartime, the temptation will be strong to use that silver elsewhere—to spend it twice.”
“Now I perceive why it is that you are shunned by Court fops, monsieur. For you to suggest that Monsieur le comte de Pontchartrain would do anything of the sort is most rude.”
“Ah, madame, but I said nothing of that noble man. It is not he who matters in this case—for, last I heard, Monsieur le comte de Pontchartrain was not the King of France.”
“Then you are being even more impertinent!”
“Not at all. For the King is the King, and it is his prerogative to spend his money twice, or even three times, if that is his pleasure, and neither I nor any other Frenchman will say a word against him! It might, however, make a difference to the Dép?t.”
“Suppose the Dép?t was asked to adapt to these trying new circumstances, and it was found wanting, and in consequence, France had to get a modern banking system? Would that not be better for France, and for you, monsieur?”
“For me, perhaps—as well as for you. For France, there might be grave disruptions.”
“That is beyond my scope. I am like a housewife shopping for turnips in the market. If I go to my old traditional turnip-sellers and they ask too high a price for turnips of poor quality, and not enough of them, why, I shall go and buy my turnips elsewhere.”
“Very well,” said Bernard, “I depart for Lyon this afternoon to meet with Monsieur Castan. I might relay your challenge to the Dép?t and we might see if they have got enough turnips for you.”
“Monsieur, what is this word might doing in the sentence? You do not strike me as a flirtatious man, in general.”
“You have a house in St.-Malo, madame.”
“Indeed, monsieur.”
“It is said you are quite fond of the place—more so than La Dunette.” Bernard glanced in that general direction, for La Dunette was only a couple of musket-shots up the hill from the Rue de l’Orangerie. But all he could see in that quarter was another gaudy painting of wild Turks in action.
“You would like it, too, for St.-Malo is a place where Commerce rules.”
“I understand. For that is where the ships of the Compagnie des Indes call, or have I been misinformed?”
“Many ships call there; but if India is a particular interest of yours, monsieur, then that is what we shall speak of.”
“How can it not be of interest to us, madame? Have you any notion of the profits made in that part of the world by the V.O.C. and the British East India Company?”
“Of course, monsieur. They are proverbial. As is the perpetual failure and reincarnation of the Compagnie des Indes. You need only ask Monsieur le marquis d’Ozoir—”
“The history is all too well known. I am more concerned with the future.”
“Then truly you are a shameless flirt, Monsieur Bernard, for I can scarcely contain my curiosity any longer—what are you thinking?”
“I don’t know.”
“Nonsense!”
“It is quite true. All I know is that I look at the Compagnie des Indes and see—nothing! Nothing is happening. Something should be happening. It is curious.”
“You have scented an opportunity.”
“As have you, madame.”
“Oh—you refer to the silver in London?”