I hold those eminent and highly romantic parties in the hollow of
my hand. A letter from me to M. Lecoq, of the Rue Jerusalem, and
their little game is up, their eagle moults, the history of Europe
is altered. But what good would all that do Montague Tigg? Will
it so much as put that delightful coin, a golden sovereign, in the
pocket of his nether garments? No, Tigg is no informer; a man who
has charged at the head of his regiment on the coast of Africa is
no vulgar spy. There is more to be got by making the Count pay
through the nose, as we say; chanter, as the French say; "sing a
song of sixpence"--to a golden tune.

But, as Fortune now uses me, I cannot personally approach his
Excellency. Powdered menials would urge me from his portals. An
advance, a small advance--say 30l.--is needed for preliminary
expenses: for the charges of the clothier, the bootmaker, the
hosier, the barber. Give me 30l. for the restoration of Tigg to
the semblance of the Montagues, and with that sum I conquer
millions. The diamonds of Monte Cristo, the ingots, the rubies,
the golden crowns with the image and superscription of Pope
Alexander VI.--all are mine: I mean are ours.

More, David; more, my premium tulip: we shall make the Count a
richer man than ever he has been. We shall promote new companies,
we shall put him on the board of directors. I see the prospectuses
from afar.


UNIVERSAL INTERNATIONAL TREASURE RECOVERY COMPANY.

Chairman.