D'Artagnan, the King Maker — page 204: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

The Royal Proclamation. —+191 house, with a bundle in his arms, was stopped by one of these bibbers. “You look hot and breathed, Marco,” said he. ‘‘Where are you off to, with your valuables? Into the country, I make bold, like the most of your fellows?” “What, Tomas! I steal off to the country!” He took the cup tendered him. “Do you not know what order has gone out from tthe king’s deputy? The royal procla- mation fi “Define! Tihere have been so many proclamations lately.” ‘The one requiring all loyal subjects and faithful citi- zens 'to leave their plate and trinkets at the mint———” “For the mint master to eat off the one and deck his wife in the other?” “You jester! To be coined to pay the brave warriors who defend our houses and bodies! That malicious turnspit of a Braganza—he has kicked over the roast and the fat is frizzing! We shall all get burnt!” “The fat may ibe all in the fire, but I am not a tallow candler, and I see no good reason why our gold and silver should be dumped there, too!” ‘This Marco wasa prosaic, selfish being, who had, after D’Artagnan’s cue, protested ‘his disagreement with the royal request. “If you are going to trust the king of to-day with what the king of to-morrow may demand of you, you are a greater ass than I shave thought you these fifteen years!” “You anger me, Tomas! What do you mean?’ But his anger did not stay him from presenting the negress with the pay for two other cups in return for his friend’s offering. Ought not a good citizen and a taxpayer, who pays at the first call, set a fine example of a good patriot ?” “A fine example of a hare-brain!” “Are you not going to carry your precious metal to the king’s mint?” “Not my precious brass fire-irons, even! Not until all in our street Ihave emptied ‘their strong boxes, and then: “Then P” “T should reflect.” CORNICE OOOKS (C(O) im