“Do you blame us?” asks Madame Valoie, as I listen as politely as possible to this Arabian Nights’ dream of riches.

The letters continue:  The General is surrounded by enemies, of which the worst are French, and he is forced continually to change his residence in order to escape their machinations.  But all this takes money.  How can he go to Tuxpan or to the city of Coney Island?  “You cannot know nor imagine the expense which I have had to discover that which I have discovered.  I cannot live here like a miser, for the part I represent demands much of me.  Every moment I change my residence, and that costs money.”  He adds a little touch of detail.  “I must always be dressed properly, and laundry is very dear here—­a shirt costs twenty-five cents to wash, and there are other necessary expenses....  You have forgotten to tell me if you have received the album of views of New York in which I have indicated the properties of the deceased, I squeeze your hand.”

“Yes, and our purses too,” adds Madame Valoie.  “Would M’sieu’ care to see the album of the Tessier properties?  Yes?  M’sieu’ Lapierre, kindly show the gentleman.”

Lapierre unbuttons his homespun coat and produces a cheap paper-covered blank book in which are pasted small photographs and woodcuts of various well-known New York buildings.  It is hard not to smile.

“M’sieu’ will see,” continues Madame Valoie, “that the dream had something substantial about it.  When we saw these pictures in Bordeaux we were on the point of giving up in despair, but the pictures convinced us that it was all true.  Moreover, just at that time the General intimated that unless he had more money he might yield to the efforts of the Lespinasse family to buy him off.”

Madame Valoie points vindictively to a certain paragraph in one of the letters:  “Of course they are convinced that I am not for sale, not for anything....  To my regret, my very great regret, I shall be forced to capitulate if you do not come to my aid and that quickly, for I repeat to you that my funds are all gone.”

“And here is his bill,” continues Madame Valoie, producing a folded document composed of countless sheets of very thin paper, bound together at the edges by strips of heavier material.  This, when unfolded, stretches entirely across the room and is seen to be composed of hundreds of typewritten items, of which the following may serve as illustrations: 

EXPENSES IN NEW YORK

July 12, Train to New Orleans   ..........   $25.50
"    16, Train to Florida       ...........  $ 2.50
"     "  Dinner on train        ...........  $ 2.00
"    17, Hotel in Florida       ...........  $ 2.00
"    18, Trip to Coney Island   ...........  $  .50
"    19, Return to Florida      ...........  $  .50
"    21, Return from Florida to New Orleans  $ 2.50
"     "    Laundry              ...........  $ 1.15
Dec.  3, Return to New York     ...........  $ 6.50
"    24, Train to Vera Cruz     ...........  $57.50