"Oh, I ask nothing better, if you wish--"
"I have come here for two reasons; the first, to receive this letter of credit--"
"Instantly, but--"
"I have come for another reason,--to put an end to the infamous abuse you have made of an apparent service, a pretended generosity rendered to the husband of my best friend, M. Charles Dutertre."
"You are acquainted with the Dutertres! ah, I see the trap."
"All means are fair to catch malicious creatures; you are caught."
"Oh, not yet," replied Pascal, gnashing his teeth with rage and despair, for the imperious beauty of Madeleine, increased by her glowing animation, excited his pa.s.sion to frenzy; "perhaps you triumph too soon, madame."
"You will see."
"We will see," said Pascal, trying to pay off with audacity, in spite of the torture he endured, "we will see."
"This instant, there on that table, you are going to sign a deed, in good form, by which you engage yourself to grant to M. Dutertre the time that you have granted by your verbal promise, to liquidate his debt to you."
"But--"
"As you are capable of deceiving me, and as I understand nothing of business, I have ordered a notary to draw up this deed, so that you have only to sign it."
"This is a pleasantry!"
"The notary has accompanied me, he is waiting in the next room."
"What, have you brought a--"
"One does not come alone into the house of a man like you. You are going to sign this deed instantly."
"For what return?"
"My disdain and contempt, as always."
"Misery! that is violence!"
"It is so."
"You wish to take from me, gratis, my sweetest morsel,--in the very moment when, in the rage which possesses me, no reparation but revenge was left to console me a little! Ah, Madame Dutertre is your best friend! Ah, her tears will be bitter to you! Ah, the sorrows of this family will break your heart! Zounds, that is to the point, and I will have my revenge besides!"
"You refuse?"
"If I refuse? Ah, indeed, madame marquise, do you think me an idiot? And for a woman of mind you have shown yourself very weak in this. You might have caught me by cajolery--entangled by some promise. I was capable of--"
"Come, now, who would stoop so low as to pretend to wish to seduce M.
Pascal? You are ordered to repair an injury, you make reparation, and M.
Pascal is despised after as before, to-day as yesterday, and to-morrow as to-day."
"Misery! this is enough to make one mad!" cried the financier, astonished, and almost frightened by the tone of conviction with which Madeleine spoke, and he asked himself if she had not discovered some secret rottenness in his life which she intended to use as a weapon. But our hero had been a prudent scoundrel, and soon took heart again after a rapid examination of conscience, and replied:
"Ah, well, madame, here I am ready to obey when you force me to do so. I am waiting."
"It will not be long."
"I am waiting."
"I have seen in your street several lodgings to let. That is nothing extraordinary, I am sure, M. Pascal; but a happy chance has shown me a very pretty apartment on the first floor, not yet engaged, almost opposite your house."
Pascal looked at Madeleine stupidly.
"This apartment I shall take, and shall install myself there to-morrow."
A vague foreboding made the financier start; he turned pale.
Madeleine continued, fixing her burning gaze on the man"s eyes:
"At every hour of the day and the night you will know that I am there.
You will not be able to go out of your house without pa.s.sing before my windows, where I shall be often, very often. I am fond of sitting at the window. You will not leave your house, I defy you. An irresistible, fatal charm will draw you back to your punishment every instant. The sight of me will give you torture, and you will seek that sight. Every time you meet my glance, and you will meet it often, you will receive a dagger in your heart, and yet, ambushed behind your curtains, you will watch my every movement."
As she talked, Madeleine had made a step toward Pascal, holding him fascinated, panting under her fixed, burning eyes, from which he could not remove his own.
The marquise continued:
"That is not all. As this lodging is large, Antonine, immediately after her marriage, and Frantz will come to live with me. I do not know, then, my poor M. Pascal, what will become of you."
"Oh, this woman is infernal," murmured the financier.
"Judge, then, the tortures of all sorts that you will have to endure.
You must have been deeply smitten with Antonine to wish to marry her; you must have been deeply smitten with me to put your fortune at my feet. Ah, well, not only will you suffer an agonising martyrdom in seeing the two women you have madly desired possessed by others,--for I am a widow and will remarry,--but you will curse your riches, for every moment of the day will tell you that they have been impotent, and that they will always be impotent to satisfy your ardent desires."
"Leave me!" stammered Pascal, recoiling before Madeleine, who kept him always under her eye. "Leave me! Truly this woman is a demon!"
"Stop, my poor M. Pascal," continued the marquise, "you see I pity you in spite of myself, when I think of your envious rage, your ferocious jealousy, exasperated to frenzy by the constant happiness of Antonine, for you will see us every day, and often in the night. Yes, the season is beautiful, the bright moon charming, and many times in the evening, very late, hidden in the shadow with your eyes fixed on our dwelling, you will see sometimes Antonine and sometimes me with our elbows on the balcony railing, enjoying the cool of the evening, and smiling often, I confess, at M. Pascal, then standing behind some window-blind or peeping from some cas.e.m.e.nt, devouring us with his eyes; often Antonine and Frantz will talk of love by the light of the moon, often I and my future husband will be as delightfully occupied under your eyes."
"Curses!" cried Pascal, losing all control of himself, "she tortures me on burning coals."
"And that is not all," continued the marquise, in a low, almost panting, voice. "At a late hour of the night you will see our windows closed, our curtains discreetly drawn on the feeble light of our alabaster lamps, so sweet and propitious to the voluptuousness of the night." Then the marquise, bursting into peals of laughter, added: "And, my poor M.
Pascal, I would not be astonished then if, in your rage and despair, you should become mad and blow your brains out."
"Not without having my revenge, at least," muttered Pascal, wrought to frenzy, and rushing to his desk where he had a loaded pistol.
But Madeleine, who knew she had everything to fear from this man, had, as she slowly approached him, kept him under her eye, and, step by step, had reached the chimney; at the threatening gesture of Pascal she pulled the bell-cord violently.
At the moment Pascal, livid and frightful, turned to face Madeleine, the servant entered hastily, surprised at the loud ringing of the bell.
At the sound of the opening door and the sight of his valet, Pascal came to himself, quickly thrust the hand which held the pistol behind him, and let it fall on the carpet.
The marquise had taken advantage of the interruption to approach the door left open by the servant, and to call in a loud voice to the notary, who, seated in the next room, had also quickly risen at the sudden sound of the bell: