I bowed. ‘The condition, M. le Vicomte?’ I said huskily, beginning to understand him.
‘That you give up all claim and suit to the hand of my kinswoman,’ he answered lightly. ‘That is all. It is a simple and easy condition.’
I looked at him in renewed astonishment, in wonder, in stupefaction; asking myself a hundred questions. Why did he stoop to bargain, who could command? Why did he condescend to treat, who held me at his mercy? Why did he gravely discuss my aspirations, to whom they must seem the rankest presumption? Why?—but I could not follow it. I stood looking at him in silence; in perplexity as great as if he had offered me the Crown of France; in amazement and doubt and suspicion that knew no bounds.
‘Well!’ he said at last, misreading the emotion which appeared in my face. ‘You consent, sir?’
‘Never!’ I answered firmly.
He started. ‘I think I cannot have heard you aright,’ he said, speaking slowly and almost courteously. ‘I offer you a great place and my patronage, M. de Marsac. Do I understand that you prefer a prison and my enmity?’
‘On those conditions,’ I answered.
‘Think, think!’ he said harshly.
‘I have thought,’ I answered.
‘Ay, but have you thought where you are?’ he retorted. ‘Have you thought how many obstacles lie between you and this little fool? How many persons you must win over, how many friends you must gain? Have you thought what it will be to have me against you in this, or which of us is more likely to win in the end?’