has presented itself, a brilliant speculation, which cannot fail to triple my capital in less than a year.
Imperia. You don't know how glad I am to see you. Really, you put every rational thought quite out of my head.
Rinaldi. But you must not laugh; it is a serious matter. Ruhu—his name is Ruhu—an Oriental name… well, Ruhu is not the real Ruhu.
Imperia. I don't understand.
Rinaldi. The real Ruhu-Sahib was the former proprietor of the elephants; this man was merely his assistant, that was all. When the real Ruhu died, his widow, who was English, inherited the seven elephants, and she proposed to the assistant that he continue in charge, and manage all seven upon a salary which she was to pay him. But it was exploitation. While the poor Ruhu exposed his life every day for the most pitiful wages, the widow, the proprietress of the elephants, was collecting wholly fabulous sums from the management. What do you think of that? The poor are justified in rising up against such exploitation. Ruhu was broken-hearted. "Ah, if the elephants were only mine," he said to me with tears in his eyes, "if I had a hundred thousand francs! If I could find some one to associate herself with me!"
Imperia. You need say no more; you were touched. You determined to buy the elephants and present yourself with them in the circus.
Rinaldi. Not I. How ridiculous! I am to buy them; he is to present them. I shall receive half the profits. You have no conception of what that will amount to. Twelve thousand francs a month, and they are engaged for the entire season. Seven tame elephants for a hundred thousand francs—it's a bargain. Really, you have no idea what it costs nowadays to buy an elephant. And these are the best Indian elephants. You can tell them by the trunk and the ears.
