At the sight of the archduke, the officers turned aside respectfully,
and M. Pascal, who seemed to have lost control of himself, cried:
"Zounds! monseigneur, you receive people here singularly!"
The prince, remembering the appointment that he had made with M. Pascal,
and fearing for his own dignity some new insult from this brutal person,
said, making a sign to him:
"Come, monsieur, come."
And before the eyes of the silent officers the door closed on the prince
and the capitalist.
"Now, monsieur," said the archduke, pale with anger and hardly able to
restrain himself, "will you tell me the cause of this scandal?"
"What! you make an appointment for me at three o'clock; I am punctual; a
quarter of an hour passes,--nobody; a half-hour,--nobody; my faith! I
lose patience, and I ask one of your officers to inform you that I am
waiting. They answer that you have an audience. I begin to champ my bit,
and at last, at the end of another half-hour, I tell your gentlemen,
positively, that if they do not inform you I will go in myself."
"That, monsieur, is an insolence--"
"What, an insolence! Ah, well, monseigneur, is it I who have need of
you, or you who have need of me?"
"M. Pascal!"
"Is it I who come to you, monseigneur? Is it I who have asked for the
loan of money?"
"But, monsieur--"
"But, monseigneur, when I consent to interrupt my own business to come
here and wait in your antechamber,--what I do for nobody,--it seems to
me that you ought not to let me go to the devil for one hour, and the
most important hour, too, on the Exchange, which, thanks to you,
monseigneur, I have missed to-day; and in addition to that vexation, I
think it very strange that your officers repulse me, when, on their
refusal to announce me, I take the liberty of announcing myself."
"Discretion and the simplest propriety command you to wait the end of
the audience I was giving, monsieur."
"That is possible, monseigneur, but, unfortunately, my just impatience
contradicts discretion, and, frankly, I think I deserve a different
reception, especially when I come to talk with you of a service that you
have implored me to do for you."
In the first moment of his anger, increased by the persistent coarseness
of M. Pascal, the prince had forgotten that the Marquise de Miranda
could hear his conversation with his rude visitor from the adjoining
room; so, overwhelmed with shame and feeling the necessity of appeasing
the angry humour of the man, he endeavoured with all his self-control to
appear calm, and tried to lead M. Pascal, as he talked with him, over to
the embrasure of one of the windows, where Madeleine would not be able
to hear the interview.
"You know, M. Pascal," said he, "that I have always been very tolerant
of your bluntness, and I will continue to be so."
"Really, you are very good, monseigneur," replied Pascal, sarcastically,
"but you see each one of us has his little contrarieties, and at the
present moment I have very large ones, which make it impossible for me
to possess the gentleness of a lamb."
"That excuse, or, rather, that explanation suffices for me, M. Pascal,"
replied the prince, dominated by his need of the financier's services.
"Opposition often exasperates the gentlest characters, but let us talk
no longer of the past. You asked me to anticipate by two days the
appointment we had made to terminate our business. I hope that you bring
me a satisfactory reply."
"I bring you a thoroughly complete yes, monseigneur," replied our hero,
growing gentle. And he drew a pocketbook from his pocket. "And more, to
corroborate this yes, here is a draft on the Bank of France for the
tenth of the amount, and this contract of mine for the remainder of the
loan."
"Ah, my dear M. Pascal!" cried the prince, radiant, "you are a man--a
man of gold."
"'A man of gold!' that is the word, monseigneur. That is no doubt the
cause of your liking for me."
The prince did not observe this sarcasm. Delighted with the whole day,
which seemed to fulfil his various desires, and impatient to dismiss the
financier so as to return to Madeleine, he said:
"Since all is settled, my dear M. Pascal, we need only exchange our
signatures, and to-morrow or after, at your hour, we will regulate the
matter completely."
"I understand, monseigneur; once the money and the signature in your
pocket, the keenest desire of your heart is to rid yourself as soon as
possible of your very humble servant, Pascal, and to-morrow you will
turn him over to some subaltern charged with the power of arranging the
affair."
"Monsieur!"
"Good! monseigneur, is not that the natural course of things? Before the
loan, one is a good genius, a half or three-quarters of God; once the
money is loaned, one is a Jew or an Arab. I know this, it is the other
side of the medallion. Do not hasten, monseigneur, to turn over the said
medallion."
"Really, monsieur, you must explain yourself."
"Immediately, monseigneur, for I am in a hurry. The money is there, my
signature is there," added he, striking the pocketbook. "The affair is
concluded on one condition."
"Still conditions?"
"Each, monseigneur, manages his little affairs as he understands them.
My condition, however, is very simple."
"Let us hear it, monsieur, let us come to an end."
"Yesterday I told you that I observed a handsome blond young man in the
garden, where he was promenading, who lives here, you inform me."
"Without doubt, it is Count Frantz, my godson."
"Certainly, one could not see a prettier boy, I told you. Now then, as
you are the godfather of this pretty boy, you ought to have some
influence over him, ought you not?"
"What are you aiming at, monsieur?"
"Monseigneur, in the interest of your dear godson, I will tell you in
confidence that I think the air of Paris is bad for him."
"What!"
"Yes, and you would do wisely to send him back to Germany; his health
would improve very much, monseigneur, very much indeed."
"Is this a pleasantry, monsieur?"
"It is serious, monseigneur, so serious that the only condition that I
put to the conclusion of our affair is that you must make your godson
depart for Germany in twenty-four hours at the latest."
"Truly, monsieur, I cannot recover from my surprise. What interest have
you in the departure of Frantz? It is inexplicable."
"I am going to explain myself, monseigneur, and that you may better
understand the interest I have in his departure, I must make you a
confidence; that will enable me to point out exactly what I expect from
you. Now then, monseigneur, such as you see me I am madly in love. Eh,
my God! yes, madly in love; that seems queer to you and to me also. But
the fact remains. I am in love with a young girl named Mlle. Antonine
Hubert, your neighbour."
"You, monsieur, you!" exclaimed the prince, dismayed.
"Certainly, me! Me! Pascal! And why not, monsieur? 'Love is of every
age,' says the song. Only, as it is also of the age of your godson,
Count Frantz, he has in the most innocent way in the world begun to love
Mlle. Antonine; she, not less innocently, returns the love of this
pretty boy, which places me, you see, in an exceedingly disobliging
frame of mind; fortunately, you can assist me in getting out of this
frame of mind, monseigneur."
"I?"
"Yes, monseigneur; I will tell you how. Assure me that you will require
Count Frantz to leave France this instant,--and that is easy,--and
demand also that he is not to set foot in France for several years; the
rest belongs to me."
"But there is another thing you do not think of, monsieur. If this young
person loves Frantz?"
"The rest belongs to me, I tell you, monseigneur. President Hubert has
not two days to live; my batteries are ready, the little girl will be
forced to go to live with an old relative who is horribly covetous and
avaricious; a hundred thousand francs will answer to me for this old
vixen, and once she gets the little girl in her clutches I swear to God
that Antonine will become, willing or unwilling, Madame Pascal, and
that, too, without resorting to violence. Come now, monseigneur, all the
love affairs of fifteen years will not hold against the desire to
become, I will not say madame the archduchess, but madame the
archmillionaire. Now, monseigneur, you see it all, I have frankly played
the cards on the table; having no interest in acting otherwise, it is
of little or no moment to you that your godson should marry a little
girl who has not a cent. The condition that I impose is the easiest
possible one to fulfil. Again, is it yes, or is it no?"
The prince was overwhelmed, less by the plans of Pascal and his odious
misanthropy, than by the cruel alternative in which the condition
imposed by the capitalist placed him.
To order the departure of Frantz, and oppose his marriage with Antonine,
was to lose Madeleine; to refuse the condition imposed by M. Pascal was
to renounce the loan, which would enable him to accomplish his projects
of ambitious aggrandisement.
In the midst of this conflict of two violent passions, the prince
recollected that he had only given his word to Madeleine for the pardon
of the exile, the tumult caused by the fury of M. Pascal having
interrupted him at the very moment he was about to swear to Madeleine to
consent to the marriage of Frantz.
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:
[Illustration: "_'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 passing, 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 reassign, 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.