In founding this unique establishment, Paganetti of Porto-Vecchio had
as his aim to monopolize the commercial development of the whole of
Corsica: iron mines, sulphur mines, copper mines, marble quarries,
coral fisheries, oyster beds, water ferruginous and sulphurous, immense
forests of thuya, of cork-oak, and to establish for the facilitation of
this development a network of railways over the island, with a service
of packet-boats in addition. Such is the gigantic undertaking to which
he has devoted himself. He has sunk considerable capital in it, and it
is the new-comer, the workman of the last hour, who will gain the whole
profit.

While with his Italian accent and violent gestures the Corsican
enumerates the "splendours" of the affair, Monpavon, haughty, and with
an air calculated to command confidence, nods his head approvingly with
conviction, and from time to time, when he judges the moment propitious,
throws into the conversation the name of the Duc de Mora, which never
fails in its effect on the Nabob.

"Well, in short, how much would be required?"

"Millions," says Monpavon boldly, in the tone of a man who would have
no difficulty in addressing himself elsewhere. "Yes, millions; but the
enterprise is magnificent. And, as his excellency was saying, it would
provide even a political position. Just think! In that district without
a metallic currency, you might become counsellor-general, deputy." The
Nabob gives a start. And the little Paganetti, who feels the bait quiver
on his hook: "Yes, deputy. You will be that whenever I choose. At a sign
from me all Corsica is at your disposal." Then he launches out into an
astonishing improvisation, counting the votes which he controls, the
cantons which will obey his call. "You bring me your capital. I--I give