“Certainly not. What interest would M. Trigault have in lending you a hundred thousand francs? None whatever. With me it is quite a different thing. The profit I’m to realize is your security. In business matters distrust your friends. Apply to usurers rather than to them. Question people who are in difficulties, and ninety-five out of a hundred will tell you that their worst troubles have been caused by those who called themselves their best friends.”
He had risen to take leave, when the door of the smoking-room opened, and a servant appeared and said in an undertone: “Madame Leon is in the drawing-room with Dr. Jodon. They wish to see you, monsieur.”
Though Pascal had armed himself well against any unexpected mischance, he changed color on hearing the name of the worthy housekeeper. “All is lost if this creature sees and recognizes me!” he thought.
Fortunately the Marquis was too much engrossed in his own affairs to note the momentary agitation of Baron Trigault’s envoy. “It is strange that I can’t have five minutes’ peace and quietness,” he said. “I told you that I was at home to no one.”
“But——”
“Enough! Let the lady and gentleman wait.”
The servant withdrew.
The thought of passing out through the drawing-room filled Pascal with consternation. How could he hope to escape Madame Leon’s keen eyes? Fortunately M. de Valorsay came to his relief, for as Pascal was about to open the same door by which he had entered, the marquis exclaimed: “Not that way! Pass out here—this is the shortest way.”
And leading him through his bedroom the marquis conducted him to the staircase, where he even feigned to offer him his hand, saying: “A speedy return, dear M. Maumejan.”
It is not at the moment of peril that people endure the worst agony; it is afterward, when they have escaped it. As he went down the staircase, Pascal wiped the cold sweat from his forehead. “Ah! it was a narrow escape!” he exclaimed, under his breath.