Chapter 19 third chapter

"Can I see Zambo the Banker?" "Okay, as long as it's business." "It's business." "your name……" This question and answer was carried out between Antiphere and a local old man with a sad face who spoke broken French and sat in the corner of the small office.The office was partitioned, and the partition wall was equipped with windows with iron bars. The man from Saint-Malo didn't want to announce his name first, he wanted to see the possible reaction if he suddenly said his name in front of the banker. "I am Antifel, son of Thomas Antifel, from Saint-Malo."

It was a while before he was ushered into a studio.There is no decoration in the interior, limewashed walls, ceiling blackened by lamp smoke, a safe in one corner of the room, a round writing desk in another corner, a table, and two small stools. The two heirs of Governor Camilque finally met, and the banker sat at the table.Sit together face to face. Zambogo didn't bow, straightened his upper body slightly, and used his thumb and middle finger to adjust his broad-rimmed eyes on his hooked nose. Zambugo asked in French: "What is your surname?" There was no doubt that his pronunciation was Provencal or Languedoc.

"Master Antifel, captain of offshore sailing," replied the Saint-Malo man.He was sure that at the name Zambok would cry out, jump up from the sofa and answer: "You...you are finally here!..." However, the banker did not jump up, nor utter a cry of surprise, nor did the expected answer burst from his mouth.But a closer look reveals a bright flash behind the glasses—then the eyelids droop, and the flash fades away again. "I tell you, I am Master Antiphere..." "heard about it." "Pierre Servain Malo Antifel, son of Thomas Antifel, a native of Saint-Malo, in France...Brittany...Ire-Villains... "

"Are you a credit account with our bank?..." the banker asked in a very calm voice: "Credit account..." Antifil was at a loss by the cold reception, "it's a sum of hundreds of millions of francs..." "Bring it out!..." Zambugo replied briefly, as if he was running an account of a few silver dollars. St. Malo's disappointment suddenly seemed like a deflated ball.What?This icy banker had known for a long time that he would get a huge amount of treasure. For 20 years, he had longed for the arrival of a certain Antifel to bring him the treasure... But at this moment, in front of the emissary of Governor Camille, there was a cry Keep silent...not surprised or happy? ... Could it be that the letter from Kojima was mistaken?Is it another Tunisian city of Maltese?Banker Zambugo doesn't know the latitude of the second island, does he?

The disappointed man couldn't help but shuddered, a rush of blood rushed to his heart, and he sat down on the stool again helplessly. Where is the banker?Staring through the glasses, the corners of his mouth trembled slightly, pretending to be smiling, calm and composed, without any intention of caring for him.He didn't take what Antiphere said to heart at all. "Stop yelling, my sailor!" The implication is "good negotiation". Maester Antiphere regained his composure.He wiped his face with a handkerchief, and gnashing his teeth on pebbles, stood up and said, "Are you really Zambo the banker?" he asked, beating the table with his thick hands.

"Yes, I'm the only one in Tunisia." "So, are you waiting for me?" "No." "Don't you know I'm coming?" "How can I know?" "By a letter from the governor..." "A governor?" asked the banker. "However, I have received hundreds of letters from the Governor..." "Where's Kamilk in Cairo?" "Can not remember." Zambugo played this trick in order to get Antifel to tell the whole story first, and hand over the latitude to him, but he doesn't have to hand over the longitude in his hand.

However, in the name of Kamilk, looking at him like that, this name should not be unfamiliar to him, he tried his best to recall. "Wait a minute," he said, straightening his glasses, "Governor Kamilk...from Cairo?" "Yes," said Maester Antiphere, "a Rothschild of Egypt, rich in possessions, gold, diamonds, jewels..." "Yes, I remembered..." "He must have told you that half of this great fortune will one day be yours..." "You are quite right, Monsieur Antifil. Where did I put that letter..." "What . . . you can't tell where you put it! . . . "

"Oh, . . . will find it . . . I have nothing to lose here . . . " At this answer, look at the look of Maester Antiffel, if the letter cannot be found, the hands that are outstretched, like claws, clearly intending to wring the banker's neck. "Well, Monsieur Zambugo," he said with an effort of restraint, "your calmness is astonishing! Your indifference when it comes to this..." "Oh!" snorted the banker. "What... what?... Oh! Hundreds of millions of francs are at stake!" Zambugo pouted dismissively.In fact, this person regards orange peels and lemon peels as treasures, and regards them as important as millionaires.

"Ah! Poor boy! He has millions of francs!" thought Antiphere. At this moment, Zambugo changed the subject and wanted to find out what he didn't understand, that is to say, he wanted to know the ins and outs of the matter, and under what circumstances Saint-Malo came here to ask for an interview.He wiped his glasses with a handkerchief, and asked in a puzzled tone: "Do you really believe in treasure?" "I firmly believe in it, just like I believe it is made up of three people!" He spoke with such certainty and confidence that it was as if he were a true Breton himself.

So he began to tell what happened, how in 1799 his father, under what circumstances, saved the life of the Governor-General, how a secret letter was sent to Saint-Malo in 1842, in which he was asked to find a fortune, which was hidden. on a small island.How his father, on his deathbed, told him a secret known only to him; Entrusted by Camille, as the executor of the will, he brought him the long-awaited longitude, so that he could find a small island in the Gulf of Oman in the waters of Muscat on the chart; , accompanied by his friend Tregoman and his executor Bob Omar and his trainees, how he sailed from Saint-Malo to Muscat; how he found the islet in the Gulf of Oman off the coast of Sohar; No treasure was found, but an iron box was found in the place marked with the double K. Inside the box was a letter giving the longitude of the second island. At this moment, Maestro Antifel was going to convey this letter to the bank in Tunis. Zambugo, because he holds the latitude for determining the position of the new island...

The banker seemed unmoved, but actually listened to this long narrative with rapt attention.His pointed fingers trembled slightly, which showed that he was quite excited.After Antiphere finished speaking, he was already sweating profusely, so he said: "Yes! The treasure exists, there is no doubt about it. What is Governor Camilk's intention in using such a method? . . . Now . . . " Admittedly, the intention is quite obvious. "It is conceivable," Antiphale continued, "that is...but first of all, Monsieur Banker, have you done anything for the Governor?" "Perhaps, it helped a lot." "under what conditions?" "When he wanted to pool his wealth, he was in Cairo, where I lived too." "Okay, it's very clear...he wants to find two people to help him discover the treasure, and promises to reward them afterwards. These two people are you...and me...because my father passed away..." "What if there are others?" the banker reminded. "Ah! what are you talking about!" exclaimed Maester Antiphere, striking the table violently. "Enough... two people are enough!" "That's right," Zambugo replied, "but why did notary Alexandria accompany you on your investigation? Please tell me." "This is expressly stipulated in the will. When the inheritance is excavated, he must be present and should be paid..." "How many?" "One percent." "One hundredth! . . . Ah! The rascal!" "A rascal . "Please believe me, I will not forgive him!" The two heirs have exactly the same views on the appellation "rascal".Unsurprisingly, it was the banker's inner voice, though he seemed absent-minded. "Now," said the man from Saint-Malo, you know what happened, and I think: there is no reason why we should not be honest with each other. Bankers remained unmoved. "I have the longitude found on the No. 1 island, and you have the latitude of the No. 2 island..." Antifil continued. "That's right..." Zambugo replied with a little hesitation. "Then, when I came here and announced my name, why did you act as if you didn't know anything about it?" "It's very simple. I don't want to tell everyone. . . . If you are an unknown person, sir, I say so, please don't be angry. I think it's better to play it safe... Since you have that letter . . . ..." "there is." "Take it out." "Wait a minute, Mr. Zambugo, take it out!... Take it out... You, you still have a letter from Governor Kamilk yourself?..." "some." "Okay,...letter for letter..." "Yes!" replied the banker. The banker stood up, walked towards the safe, and slowly turned several built-in locks, which made Antiphere already furious. Why this is so is really puzzling!Is Zombugo trying to emulate Bo Omar's tricks, is he out of ulterior motives, trying to get secrets that the notary hasn't? It can't be done, Antiphere is so resolute, he must pay the money with one hand and deliver the goods with the other hand.However, the banker had a deliberate plan that, if successful, would ensure that the Governor's billions would go to his family, and indeed his pocket. — An indispensable condition for the realization of this plan is that the other heir is now single. Therefore, while twisting the built-in lock, he turned his head and asked in a trembling voice: "Aren't you married yet?" "No, sir, I am very glad of that." "After listening to the second half of the answer, the banker frowned, and went to pick the lock again. Does this Zambugo have a family?Yes, and his family members are actually only his sister.Known as Miss Talisma Zambogo.She lives in Malta, living frugally on her brother's annuity, and is 47 years old - almost half a century.She never had the chance to get married. First of all, she didn't have intelligence, beauty, wealth, and intelligence; moreover, his brother had never been able to find a husband for her, and it seemed that he didn't recommend himself. However, her brother believed that she would marry one day.God!Who are you marrying? ... Well, let's make a spouse with Antipher, the visitor he has been waiting for for 20 years!Whether he was a bachelor or a widower, he could always satisfy the spinster's wishes.As soon as the happy event is held, the billions of dollars of wealth will be firmly rooted in his family.Miss Talisma Zambugo was not in vain.Naturally, she was still under her brother's control, so she had no choice but to turn a blind eye and let him choose a husband. Surely, would the people of St. Malo be willing to close their eyes and be manipulated by others and marry that old lady of Malta?Zambugo was full of confidence, thinking that talking to the other heir would be the only way to force him to submit.Besides, sailors are more talkative. —at least he thought so. what!Poor Pierre Servain Marlowe, you are in a boat of thieves! Now we understand what Zambogo is up to in this trick.The means are simple and wonderful.Antifel has to exchange his life for his latitude, to be precise; by marrying Talisma, his life is imprisoned. Before he had taken Camilleke's letter from the safe, that is, he had put the key in the lock and in a split second, he seemed to have changed his mind, and came back and sat down again. Two rays of light shot out from the eyes of Maester Antiphere, just like lightning when the charge in the atmosphere is saturated. "What else do you want?" he asked. "Think about one thing," replied the banker. "What's the matter, please?" "Regarding inheritance, do you think we should be absolutely equal to each other?" "Of course, absolute equality!" "I don't think so." "why?" "Because your father helped the governor, not you, but I, it was me..." The two rays of light shot out from Antiphere's eyes suddenly turned into lightning. "Ah, that's right! Mr. Zambugo, do you want to mock an offshore captain? . . . Since I'm the only heir to my father, isn't his right my right? . . . Do you still obey Governor Kamilk's will?" "It's what I want, so I'll do it!" Zambugo said indifferently and clearly. Maestro Antiphere kicked over the small stool, and held the table tightly so as not to jump up. "You can do nothing without me! You should know," declared the Maltese. "Nor me, nor you!" retorted the Saint-Malo man. The debate became more and more intense, one blushed and the other was blank, but both were full of confidence. "Will you give me the latitude?" Antiphere shouted angrily. "Give me the longitude first," said the banker. "Delusion!" "Ok!" "This is my letter." Antiphere roared, taking the briefcase out of his pocket. "Keep it to yourself... I don't need it!" "You don't need it? This is a wealth of hundreds of millions of francs..." "Yes, hundreds of millions of francs." "If we can't find the island, the fortune will all be lost." "Hmph!" the banker hissed. He pursed his lips, as if he didn't want to hear it, but Antiffel couldn't hold his breath, and he put on a posture, really wanted to strangle him... This poor guy refused to use the treasure of hundreds of millions of francs, and didn't even think about anyone. ! Zambugo had strangled countless poor people spiritually during his loan sharking career, but he couldn't destroy his opponent at this moment! I'm afraid he also understood this, put his hands in his pockets to avoid itching outside, and waved his fists. "Sir," continued the banker, "I am rich, but I have no hobbies. Fifty million francs will not change my way of life. My hoarding is hoarding pockets full of gold. I admit that Camille The riches would add color to my safe. Indeed, ever since I learned of the existence of this treasure, I have but one thought, and that is to possess it all." "You have such an idea, Mr. Zambugo!" "Wait a moment!" "What about my share?" "Your share!... Is it possible to do this, your share belongs to you, but it must be kept in my house, okay?" "So, you can't put it in my house..." "That's up to you." "Well, stop being diplomatic, sir, and be clear!" "I have a younger sister, Miss Talisma..." "congratulations!" "She lives in Malta." "That would be great." "She is 47 years old, and she is still a beauty." "It wouldn't be surprising if she was like you." "Well, since you are single—would you marry my sister?" "Marry her! Your sister?" cried Pierre Servan Marlot, his face flushed with blood. "Yes...marry her," said the banker in a very firm tone, and could not argue. "Through this combination, your 50 million and my 50 million will all stay in my home." "Mr. Zambugo," said Antifil, the small stone kept rolling between the two rows of teeth, as if waves were constantly crashing on the pebbles on the beach, "Mr. Zambugo..." "Monsieur Antifil..." "Are you seriously suggesting? . . . " "It couldn't be more serious, you refuse to marry my sister, I swear, we will break it off, and you can go back to France by boat!" Antiphere was panting heavily, feeling that he was about to suffocate.He took off his tie, took his hat, opened the door, and walked away, the suggestion too outlandish for him to answer. He went straight to the street, gesticulating and rowing, with a crazy demeanor, like a madman.Savuk, who was waiting for him, followed behind, seeing his crazy appearance, he couldn't help worrying about it. Arriving at the hotel, the Saint-Malo man hastily approached the lobby and saw his nephew and friends sitting in a corner of the small salon off the dining room. "Ah! poor wretch!" he cried to them. "Do you know what he wants?" "Trying to kill you!" asked Gilda Tregoman. "It's worse than that! . . . He wants me to marry his sister!"