Fouquet colored, while Aramis uttered a "Hum!" of impatience.
"You would be wrong to exaggerate such notions as those, monsieur," said the surintendant; "for a man's mind is variable and full of these very excusable caprices, which are, however, sometimes estimable enough; and a man may have wished for something yesterday of which he repents to-day."
Vanel felt a cold sweat trickle down his face. "Monseigneur!" he muttered.
Aramis, who was delighted to find the surintendant carry on the debate with such clearness and precision, stood leaning his arm upon the marble top of a console, and began to play with a small gold knife, with a malachite handle. Fouquet did not hurry himself to reply; but after a moment's pause, "Come, my dear Monsieur Vanel," he said, "I will explain to you how I am situated." Vanel began to tremble.
"Yesterday I wished to sell—"
"Monseigneur did more than wish to sell, for you actually sold."
"Well, well, that may be so; but to-day I ask you the favor to restore me my word which I pledged you."
"I received your word as a perfect assurance that it would be kept."
"I know that, and that is the reason why I now entreat you; do you understand me? I entreat you to restore it to me."
Fouquet suddenly paused. The words "I entreat you," the effect of which he did not immediately perceive, seemed almost to choke him as he uttered it. Aramis, still playing with his knife, fixed a look upon Vanel which seemed as if he wished to penetrate to the innermost recesses of his heart. Vanel simply bowed as he said, "I am overcome, monseigneur, at the honor you do me to consult me upon a matter of business which is already completed; but—"