"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 God! 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! God 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 vassals."
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 God! 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 circumstances."
"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 assure 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 accumulated 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 impassioned 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 noble 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."