Bonacieux was repeating, word for word, a sentence which he had heard from the Comte de Rochefort; but the poor wife, who had reckoned on her husband, and who, in that hope, had answered for him to the queen, did not tremble the less, both at the danger into which she had nearly cast herself and at the helpless state to which she was reduced. Nevertheless, knowing the weakness of her husband, and more particularly his cupidity, she did not despair of bringing him round to her purpose.
“Ah, you are a cardinalist, then, Monsieur, are you?” cried she; “and you serve the party of those who maltreat your wife and insult your queen?”
“Private interests are as nothing before the interests of all. I am for those who save the state,” said Bonacieux, emphatically.
“And what do you know about the state you talk of?” said Madame Bonacieux, shrugging her shoulders. “Be satisfied with being a plain, straightforward citizen, and turn to that side which offers the most advantages.”
“Eh, eh!” said Bonacieux, slapping a plump, round bag, which returned a sound of money; “what do you think of this, Madame Preacher?”
“Whence comes that money?”
“You do not guess?”
“From the cardinal?”
“From him, and from my friend the Comte de Rochefort.”