"Do you know his name?"
"Yes, monseigneur; it is M. Pascal."
"Would you recognise him again?"
"Perfectly, monseigneur."
"Very well. Conduct this man to the door of the vestibule, and if he ever has the impudence to present himself here, drive him away in disgrace."
"We will not fail to do it, monseigneur," replied the officer, who with his comrades had endured the insolence of M. Pascal.
Our hero, realising the ruin of his hopes, and having no longer a point to gain, recovered his audacity, held up his head and said to the prince, who, sufficiently avenged, was eager to join Madeleine in the adjoining chamber:
"Wait, M. archduke, the courage and baseness of both of us are of the same feather,—the other day I was strong for reason of your cowardice, as now you are strong for reason of mine. The only brave person here is that damned woman with the black eyebrows and blond hair; but I will have my revenge on her and on you!"
The prince, angered at being thus addressed in the presence of one of his subordinates, became purple, and stamped his foot in fury.
"Will you go out, sir?" cried the officer, putting his hand on the hilt of his sword, as a threat to M. Pascal. "Out of here, or, if not—"