Notwithstanding the facility which this evasion left to him, the archduke realised how powerful was the influence of Madeleine over him, as that morning even he had not hesitated to sacrifice Frantz to his ambition.
The hesitation and perplexity of the prince struck Pascal with increasing surprise; he could not believe that his demand concerning Frantz was the only question; however, to influence the determination of the prince by placing before him the consequences of his refusal, he broke the silence, and said:
[Ill.u.s.tration: "_"It is no."_"
Original etching by Adrian Marcel.]
"Really, monseigneur, your hesitation is incomprehensible! What! by a weak deference to the love affair of a schoolboy, you renounce the certainty of obtaining a crown? For, after all, the duchy whose transfer is offered to you is sovereign and independent. This transfer, my loan only can put it in your power to accept, which, I may say in pa.s.sing, is not a little flattering to the good man Pascal. Because, in a word, through the might of his little savings, he can make or unmake sovereigns, he can permit or prevent that pretty commerce where these simpletons of people sell and sell again, transfer and rea.s.sign, no more nor less than if it were a park of cattle or sheep. But that does not concern me at all. I am not a politician, but you are, monseigneur, and I do not understand your hesitation. Once more, is it yes? is it no?"
"It is no!" said Madeleine, coming suddenly out of the adjoining room, where she had heard the preceding conversation, notwithstanding the precautions of the prince.
CHAPTER XVIII.
The archduke, at the unexpected appearance of the Marquise de Miranda, shared the surprise of M. Pascal, who looked at Madeleine with amazement, supposing her a guest of the palace, for she had taken off her hat, and her singular beauty shone in all its splendour. The shadow thrown by the rim of her hat, which hid a part of her forehead and cheeks, was no longer there, and the bright light of broad day, heightening the transparent purity of her dark, pale complexion, gilded the light curls of her magnificent blond hair, and gave to the azure of her large eyes, with long black eyebrows, that sparkling clearness that the rays of the sun give to the blue of a tranquil sea. Madeleine, her cheek slightly flushed by the indignation which this odious project of Pascal had aroused, her glance animated, her nostrils dilating, her head proudly thrown back on her slender, beautiful neck, advanced to the middle of the parlour, and, addressing the financier, repeated the words:
"No, the prince will not accept the condition which you have the audacity to impose upon him, monsieur."
"Madame!" stammered M. Pascal, feeling his usual effrontery forsaking him, and recoiling, intimidated, pained, and charmed at the same time, "I do not know who you are, I do not know by what right you--"
"Come, monseigneur," continued the marquise, addressing the archduke, "resume your dignity, not as a prince, but as a man; receive the humiliating condition which he imposes on you with the contempt which it deserves. Great G.o.d! at what price would you buy an increase of power?
What! You would have the courage to pick up your sovereign crown at the feet of this man? It would defile your brow! But a man of courage would not have endured the thousandth part of the outrages which you have just brooked, monseigneur. And you a prince! You so proud! You belong to those who believe themselves of a race superior to the vulgar herd. And so for your humble courtiers, your base flatterers, your intimidated followers, you have only haughtiness, and before M. Pascal you abase your sovereign pride! And this, then, is the power of money!" added Madeleine, with increasing exaltation, hurling the words at the financier with a gesture of crushing disdain, "you bow before this man!
G.o.d have mercy! This is to-day the king of kings! Think of it, prince, think then that what makes the power and the insolence of this man is your ambition. Come, monseigneur, instead of buying by a shameful degradation the fragile plaything of a sovereign rank, renounce this poor vanity, retake your rights as a man of courage, and you will be able to drive this man away ignominiously, who treats you more insolently than you have ever treated the meanest of your poor va.s.sals."
Pascal, since his accession of fortune, was accustomed to a despotic domination as well as to the timid deference of those whose fate he held in his hands; judge, then, of his violent shock, of his rage, in hearing himself thus addressed by the most attractive, if not the most beautiful woman he had ever met. Picture his exasperation as he thought he must, doubtless, renounce the hope of marrying Antonine, and lose besides the profit of the ducal loan, an excellent investment for him; so he cried, with a threatening air:
"Madame, take care; this power of money, which you treat so contemptuously, is able to command many resources for the service of revenge. Take care!"
"Thank G.o.d! the threat is good, and it frightens me very much," said Madeleine, with a burst of sarcastic laughter, stopping by a gesture the prince, who took a quick step toward Pascal. "Your power is great, do you say, Sir Strong-box! It is true money is an immense power. I have seen at Frankfort a little old man, who said in 1830 to two or three furious kings, "You wish to make war on France; it does not suit me or my family, and I will not give you the money to pay your troops;" and there was no war. This good old man, a hundred times richer than you, M.
Pascal, occupied the humble house of his father and lived upon little, while his beneficent name is inscribed on twenty splendid monuments of public usefulness. He is called the "king of the people," and his name is blessed as much as yours is shamed and hissed, M. Pascal! For your reputation as a true and honest man is as well known to the foreigner as in France. Certainly, oh, you are known, M. Pascal, too well known, because you do not imagine how much your delicacy, your scrupulous probity, is appreciated! And what is the object of universal consideration, the honourable course, by which you have made your immense fortune? All that has given you a very wide-spread reputation, M. Pascal, and I am happy to declare it under present circ.u.mstances."
"Madame," replied Pascal, with an icy calmness more terrible than his anger, "you know many things, but you do not know the man whom you provoke. You are ignorant of what this man, this Strong-box as you call him, can do."
The prince made a threatening gesture which Madeleine again checked, then, shrugging her shoulders, she continued:
"What I do know, M. Pascal, is that, notwithstanding your audacity, your impudence, or your strong-box, you will never marry Mlle. Antonine Hubert, who will be betrothed to-morrow to Count Frantz de Neuberg, as monseigneur can a.s.sure you."
And the marquise, without waiting for the reply of Pascal, made a half-mocking bow and returned to the adjoining chamber. Excited by the generous indignation of Madeleine"s words, more and more subjugated by her beauty, which had just appeared to him under a new light, the archduke, feeling all the bitterness, all the anger acc.u.mulated by the many insolences of Pascal, revive in his heart, experienced the joy of the slave at last freed from a detested yoke. At the impa.s.sioned voice of the young woman the wicked soul of this prince, hardened by the pride of race, frozen by the atmosphere of mute adulation in which he had always lived, had at least some n.o.ble impulses, and the blush of shame covered the brow of this haughty man as he realised to what a state of abjection he had descended to gain the favour of M. Pascal.
The financier, no longer intimidated or handicapped by the presence of the marquise, felt his audacity spring up again, and, turning abruptly to the prince, he said, with the habitual brutal sarcasm in which was mingled a jealous hatred to see the archduke in possession of so beautiful a mistress,--for such at least was Pascal"s belief:
"Zounds! I am no longer astonished, monseigneur, at having stood so long like a crane on one foot in your antechamber. You were, I see, occupied with fine company. I am a fine judge and I compliment your taste; but men like us are not under petticoat government, and I think you know your interests too well to renounce my loan and take seriously the words you have just heard, and which I shall not forget, because I--I am sorry for you, monseigneur," added Pascal, whose rage redoubled his effrontery,--"in spite of her beautiful eyes, I must have revenge for the outrages of this too adorable person."
"M. Pascal," said the prince, triumphant at the thought of avenging himself, "M. Pascal!" and with a significant gesture he showed him the door; "leave this room, and never set your foot here again!"
"Monseigneur, these words--"
"M. Pascal," repeated the prince, in a louder voice, reaching his hand to the bell-cord, "go out of this room instantly, or I will have you put out."
There is ordinarily so much cowardice in insolence, so much baseness in avarice, that M. Pascal, overwhelmed at the prospect of the destruction of his hopes as well as the loss of his profit on the loan, repented too late his brutality, and, becoming as abject as he had been arrogant, said to the prince, in a pitiful voice:
"Monseigneur, I was jesting. I thought your Highness, in deigning to allow me to talk frankly, would be amused at my whims; that is why I permitted myself to say such improper things. Can your Highness suppose that I would dare cherish the least resentment for the pleasantries this charming lady addressed to me? I am too gallant, too much of a French knight for that I will even ask your Highness, in case, as I hope, the loan takes place, to offer to this respectable lady what we men of the strong-box, as she so amusingly called us just now, call pin-money for her toilet,--a few rolls of a thousand louis. Ladies always have some little purchases to make, and--"
"M. Pascal," said the prince, who enjoyed this humiliation which he had not the courage to inflict on Pascal, "you are a miserable scoundrel. Go out!"
"Ah, so, monseigneur! Do you mean seriously to treat me in this way?"
cried Pascal.
The prince without replying rang vigorously; an officer entered.
"You see that man," said the archduke, indicating Pascal by a gesture; "look at him."
"Yes, monseigneur."
"Do you know his name?"
"Yes, monseigneur; it is M. Pascal."
"Would you recognise him again?"
"Perfectly, monseigneur."
"Very well. Conduct this man to the door of the vestibule, and if he ever has the impudence to present himself here, drive him away in disgrace."
"We will not fail to do it, monseigneur," replied the officer, who with his comrades had endured the insolence of M. Pascal.
Our hero, realising the ruin of his hopes, and having no longer a point to gain, recovered his audacity, held up his head and said to the prince, who, sufficiently avenged, was eager to join Madeleine in the adjoining chamber:
"Wait, M. archduke, the courage and baseness of both of us are of the same feather,--the other day I was strong for reason of your cowardice, as now you are strong for reason of mine. The only brave person here is that d.a.m.ned woman with the black eyebrows and blond hair; but I will have my revenge on her and on you!"
The prince, angered at being thus addressed in the presence of one of his subordinates, became purple, and stamped his foot in fury.
"Will you go out, sir?" cried the officer, putting his hand on the hilt of his sword, as a threat to M. Pascal. "Out of here, or, if not--"
"Softly, M. fighter," replied Pascal, coolly, as he retired, "softly, sir, they do not cut up people with a sword here, you see! And we are in France, you see! And we have, you see, some good little commissaries of police who receive the complaints of an honest citizen who is maltreated."
M. Pascal went out of the palace steeped in rancour, devoured with hate, bursting with rage. He thought of his thwarted scheme for usury, his disappointed love, and he could not banish from his thoughts the pale and glowing face of Madeleine, who, far from making him forget the virginal purity of Antonine"s beauty, seemed to recall her more forcibly to his memory,--the two perfect, yet dissimilar, types heightening the charms of each by contrast.
"Man is a strange animal. I feel within me all the instincts of the tiger," said Pascal to himself, as he slowly walked down the street of the Faubourg St. Honore, with both hands plunged in the pockets of his trousers. "No," added he, continuing to walk with his head down, and his eyes fixed mechanically on the pavement, "it is not necessary to say that for fear of rendering the envy they bear us millionaires less cruel, less bitter to those who feel it, because, fortunately, those who envy us suffer the torments of the d.a.m.ned for every joy they suppose we have. Yet, indeed, it is a fact,--here I am at this hour, with a purse which can provide me with every pleasure permitted or forbidden that ever a man was allowed to dream! I am still young, I am not a fool, I am full of strength and health, free as a bird, the earth is open to me. I can obtain the most exquisite of all the country offers. I can lead the life of a sybarite in Paris, London, Vienna, Naples, or Constantinople; I can be a prince, duke, or marquis, and covered with insignia; I can have this evening the most beautiful and coveted actresses in Paris; I can have every day a feast of Lucullus, and have myself drawn by the finest horses in Paris; I could even in one month, by taking a splendid hotel, as many knaves and imbeciles do, surround myself with the elite of Paris and of Europe,--even this so-called king, whom I failed to consecrate with the holy vial of the Bank of France, this archduke whom I have just left, has licked my feet. Ah, well, my word of honour!"
added M. Pascal, mentally, gnashing his teeth, "I wager there is not a person in the world who suffers as I do this moment. I was in paradise when, as a drudge, I cleaned the shoes of my old rascal usurer in the province. Fortunately, not to masticate empty, I can always, while waiting for better morsels, chew a little on Dutertre. Let us run to the house of my bailiff."
The archduke, after the departure of the financier, hastened, as we have said, to find the Marquise de Miranda, but, to his great astonishment, she was not in the next room.