"
"You?"
"Yes, I."
"Before six o'clock this evening?"
"Certainly."
A glass of ice-water presented to a parched traveller while
journeying over the desert sands of Sahara could not impart
greater relief and delight than the marquis experienced on hearing
Pascal's offer. He literally felt that he was restored to life.
For ruin was inevitable if he did not succeed in obtaining twenty-
five thousand francs that day. If he could procure that amount he
might obtain a momentary respite, and to gain time was the main
thing. Moreover, the offer was a sufficient proof that his
financial difficulties were not known. "Ah! I have had a
fortunate escape," he thought. "What if I had revealed the
truth!"
But he was careful to conceal the secret joy that filled his
heart. He feared lest he might say "Yes" too quickly, so betray
his secret, and place himself at the mercy of the baron's envoy.
"I would willingly accept your offer," he exclaimed, "if----"
"If what?"
"Would it be proper for me, after the baron has treated me in such
a contemptible manner, to have any dealings with one of his
subordinates?"
Pascal protested vigorously. "Allow me to say," he exclaimed,
"that I am not any one's subordinate. Trigault is my client, like
thirty or forty others--nothing more. He employs me in certain
difficult and delicate negotiations, which I conduct to the best
of my ability.
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