At the end of a few moments, M. Pascal discontinued his reading, saying between his teeth, with an offended air, as if he were talking to himself:
"Ho! ho! This Article 7 does not suit me at all,—not at all!"
"Explain yourself, monsieur," said the prince, seriously annoyed.
"However," continued M. Pascal, taking up his reading again, without replying to the archduke, and pretending to be talking to himself, "this Article 7 is corrected by Article 8,—yes,—and, in fact, it is quite good,—it is very good."
The countenance of the prince seemed to brighten, for, earnestly occupied with the powerful interests of which M. Pascal had necessarily become the umpire, he forgot the impertinence and calculated wickedness of this man, who found a savage delight in making his victim pass through all the perplexities of fear and hope.
At the end of a few moments, each one of which brought new anxiety to the prince, M. Pascal exclaimed:
"Impossible, that! impossible! For me everything would be annulled by this first supplementary article. It is a mockery!"
"Monsieur," cried the prince, "speak more clearly!"
"Pardon me, monseigneur, at that moment I was reading to myself. Well and good, if you wish, I will read for both of us."
The archduke bowed his head, turned red with suppressed indignation, appeared discouraged, and leaned his head on his hand.