After long expectation on the part of the prince, M. Pascal threw the pen down on the table, plunged both hands in the pockets of his trousers, threw his head back, and shut his eyes, as if making a last mental calculation, then, holding his head up, said in a short, peremptory voice:
"Impossible, monseigneur."
"What, monsieur!" cried the prince, dismayed. "You assured me in our first interview that the operation was practicable."
"Practicable, monseigneur, but not accomplished."
"But this note, monsieur, this note, joined to the securities I have offered you?"
"This note completes, I know, the securities indispensable to such an operation."
"Then, monsieur, how do you account for your refusal?"
"For particular reasons, monseigneur."
"But, I ask again, do I not offer all the security desirable?"
"Yes, monseigneur, I will say that I regard the operation not only feasible, but sure and advantageous to one who is willing to undertake it; so, I do not doubt, monseigneur, you can find—"