The Adventures of Gil Blas of Santillane, Volume 2 (of 3)Le Sage, Alain René
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The Adventures of Gil Blas of Santillane, Volume 2 (of 3)
Le Sage, Alain René
Adventure and adventurers -- Fiction; Blas, Gil (Fictitious character) -- Fiction
Ah! most pestiferous Neapolitan! exclaimed I in the bitterness of my
heart. I am no longer at a loss to conjecture what is become of the
deficiency. You have swept it off as an indemnity for a part of the
plunder which I have prevented you from making free with. After
relieving my mind by exclamations, I returned thanks to heaven that
the scoundrel had been so modest as not to take the whole. Yet
whatever reason I had for believing the action to be perfectly in
character for the person to whom it was imputed, the nurse had not
altogether cleared herself from my suspicions. They hovered
sometimes over one and sometimes over the other; but let them light
where they would, it was all the same to me. I said nothing about
the matter to the old woman; not even so much as to haggle about the
items of her fine bill. I should not have been an atom the richer
for doing so; and we must all live by our trades. The utmost of my
malice was to pay her and send her packing three days afterwards.
I am inclined to think that at her departure she gave the apothecary
notice of her quitting the premises, and having left me sufficiently
in possession of myself to take French leave without acknowledging my
obligations to him; for she had not been gone many minutes before he
came in puffing and blowing, with his bill in his hand. There, under
names which had escaped my conscription, though as arrant a physician
as the worst of them, he had set down all the hypothetical remedies
which he insisted that I had taken during the time when I could take
nothing. This bill might truly be called the epitome of an
apothecary's conscience. Such being the case, we had a bustle about
the payment. I pleaded for an abatement of one half. He swore that
he would not take a doit less than his just demand. He kept his
oath, and yet relaxed; for considering that he had to do with a young
man who might run away from Madrid within four-and-twenty hours, he
preferred my offer of three hundred per cent. on the prime cost of
his drugs, though a pitiful profit for an apothecary, to the risk of
losing all. I counted out the money with an aching heart, and he
withdrew, chuckling over his revenge for the scurvy trick I had
played him on the day of evacuation.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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