Stifling a sigh of offended pride as he threw a glance of vindictive contempt on Pascal at the window, the prince again assumed, as we have said, his smile of affability, and walked toward the casement, coughing loud enough to announce his presence, and spare himself the last humiliation of touching the shoulder of our familiar visitor in order to attract his attention.
At the sonorous "hum-hum!" of his Royal Highness, M. Pascal turned around suddenly. The gloomy expression of his face was succeeded by a sort of cruel and malicious satisfaction, as if the occasion had furnished a victim upon whom he could vent his suppressed wrath.
M. Pascal approached the prince, saluted him in a free and easy manner, and holding his hat in one hand, while the other was plunged deep in his pocket, he said:
"A thousand pardons, monseigneur, really I did not know you were there."
"I am persuaded of that, M. Pascal," replied the prince, with ill-disguised haughtiness.
Then he added:
"Please follow me into my study, sir. I have some official news to communicate to you."
And he walked toward his study, when M. Pascal, with apparent calmness, for this man had a wonderful control over himself when it was necessary, said:
"Monseigneur, will you permit me one question?"
"Speak, sir," replied the prince, stopping and turning to his visitor, with surprise.