"For this letter first, then for something else."
"I suspected it," said Pascal to himself, with a light sigh of relief, "this letter of credit was only a pretext. It is a good sign."
Then he said aloud:
"The letter of credit, madame, is in the hands of my cashier; he has the order to attend to your demand. As to the other thing which brings you, is it, as I hope, personal?"
"Yes."
"Before speaking, madame, permit me to ask you one question."
"What is it?"
"On the card which you have just sent me, madame, you wrote that you had seen me yesterday at the elysee."
"Well?"
"But you do not seem to recollect our interview."
"I do not comprehend."
"Well," said Pascal, regaining his a.s.surance and thinking that the dryness of Madeleine"s tone was a.s.sumed for some purpose he did not clearly understand, "let us now, madame marquise, confess, at least, that you treated your humble servant very cruelly yesterday."
"What next?"
"What! you feel no remorse for having been so wicked? You do not regret your unjust anger against me?"
"No."
"Very well, I understand; it was done for effect on this fine man, the archduke," Pascal presumed to say with a smile, hoping in some way to draw Madeleine out of this frozen reserve which had begun to make him uneasy. "It is always very adroit to pretend to feel an interest in the dignity of those we govern, because, between us,--beautiful, adorable, as you are,--you can make of this poor prince all that you wish, but I defy you ever to do so with a man of spirit or a brave man."
"Continue."
"Wait, madame marquise, I have not seen your letter of credit," and Pascal opened it. "I wager it is an atrocious meanness. Zounds! I was sure of it,--forty thousand francs! What would make a woman like you do with such a beggarly pittance in Paris? Ah! Ah! Oh!--forty thousand francs. Only a German archduke could be capable of such magnificence."
Madeleine had at first listened to Pascal without comprehending him.
Soon she saw his meaning: he regarded her as the mistress of the prince and living on his liberality.
A deep blush mounted suddenly to Madeleine"s face. Then a moment of reflection calmed her, and for the sake of her projects she permitted Pascal to keep his opinion, and replied, with a half-smile:
"Evidently you do not like the prince."
"I detest him!" cried Pascal, audaciously, encouraged by the smile of the marquise, and thinking to make a master stroke by braving things out. "I abominate this accursed prince, because he possesses an inestimable treasure--that I would like to take away from him even at the cost of all my--"
And Pascal threw an impa.s.sioned look on Madeleine, who replied:
"A treasure? I did not think the prince so rich, since he desired to borrow from you, monsieur."
"Eh, madame," said Pascal, in a low, panting voice, "that treasure is you."
"Come, you flatter me, monsieur."
"Listen, madame," replied Pascal, after a moment"s silence, "let us come to the point, that is the best method. You are a woman of mind, I am not a fool, we understand each other."
"About what, monsieur?"
"I am going to tell you. If among foreigners I do not pa.s.s for a schoolgirl in finances, I am supposed to have a little competency, am I not?"
"You are known to be immensely rich, monsieur."
"I pa.s.s then for what I am; I am going to prove it to you; a million of ready money for the expenses of the establishment, a hundred thousand pounds annuity, a wedding basket, each as the united archdukes of Germany could not pay for with all their little savings, and more, I pay for the house. What do you say to that?"
Madeleine, who did not comprehend him at first, looked at Pascal with an air of astonishment. He continued:
"This liberality amazes you, or perhaps you do not believe it. It appears to you to be too much, does it? I will show you I can indulge myself in that folly. Here is a little note-book which looks like nothing," and he drew it from one of the drawers of his desk. "It is my balance-sheet, and, without understanding finances, you can see that this year my income amounted to twenty-seven millions, five hundred and sixty thousand francs. Now let us suppose that my extravagance costs me the round sum of three millions, there remain twenty-four little millions, which, manipulated as I manipulate them, will bring me in fifteen hundred thousand pounds income, and, as I live admirably well on fifty or sixty thousand francs a year, I gain in three years, with my income alone, the three millions which my folly cost me. I tell you that, marquise, because in these adventures it is well to estimate and prove that one can do all he promises. Now confess that the good man Pascal is worth more than an archduke."
"So you make this offer to me, monsieur?"
"What a question! Come, leave your archduke, give me some promise, and I put in your hand a million in drafts. I will make an act with my notary for the hundred thousand pounds annuity, and if Father Pascal is satisfied, he is not at the end of his rolls."
The financier spoke the truth; he had made these offers sincerely. The increasing admiration he felt at the sight of Madeleine, the pride of taking the mistress of a prince, the vanity of surrounding her, before the eyes of all Paris, with a splendour which would excite the envy of all,--finally, the abominable hope of inducing the marquise, by means of money, to take Antonine away from Frantz,--all, in his ignominy and in his magnificence, justified his offer to Madeleine.
Recognising from this offer the degree of influence she exercised over Pascal, Madeleine rejoiced in it, and, to obtain further proof of his sincerity, she said, with apparent hesitation:
"Without doubt, monsieur, these propositions are above my poor merit, but--"
"Fifty thousand pounds more annuity, and a charming country-house,"
cried Pascal. "That is my last word, marquise."
"And this is mine, M. Pascal," said Madeleine, rising and giving the financier a look which made him recoil.
"Listen to me well. You are basely avaricious; your magnificent offer proves, then, the impression I have made on you."
"If this offer is not enough," cried Pascal, clasping his hands, "speak, and--"
"Be silent, I have no need of your money."
"My fortune, if necessary."
"Look at me well, M. Pascal, and if you have ever dared look an honest woman in the face, and know how to read truth on her brow, you will see that I speak the truth. You might put all your fortune there at my feet, and the disdain and disgust you excite in me would be the same."
"Crush me, but let me tell you--"
"Be silent! It has suited me to let you believe a moment that I was the mistress of the prince; first, because I do not care for the esteem of a man of your character, and then, because that would encourage you in your insulting offers."
"But then, why have--"
"Be silent! I had need to know the degree of influence I possessed over you. I know, and I am going to use it."