“No doubt, Monsieur.”
“I beg your pardon,” interrupted Aramis, indicating Vanel with his finger, but addressing himself to Fouquet; “this is the gentleman, I believe, who has come about the purchase of your appointment?”
“Yes, I am,” replied Vanel, astonished at the extremely haughty tone with which Aramis had put the question; “but in what way am I to address you, who do me the honor-”
“Call me Monseigneur,” replied Aramis, dryly.
Vanel bowed.
“Come, gentlemen,” said Fouquet, a truce to these ceremonies! Let us proceed to business.”
“Monseigneur sees,” said Vanel, “that I am waiting his pleasure.”
“On the contrary, it is I who wait,” replied Fouquet.
“What for, Monseigneur?”
“I thought that perhaps you would have something to say.”
“Oh,” said Vanel to himself, “he has reflected on the matter, and I am lost!” But resuming his courage he continued, “No, Monseigneur, nothing,- absolutely nothing more than what I said to you yesterday, and which I am ready to repeat now.”
“Come, now, tell me frankly, M. Vanel, is not the affair rather a burdensome one for you?”
“Certainly, Monseigneur; fourteen hundred thousand livres is an important sum.”
“So important, indeed,” said Fouquet, “that I have reflected-”
“You have been reflecting, do you say, Monseigneur?” exclaimed Vanel, anxiously.
“Yes, that you might not yet be in a position to purchase.”
“Oh, Monseigneur!”
“Do not make yourself uneasy on that score, M. Vanel! I shall not blame you for a failure in your word, which evidently will be due to inability on your part.”
“Oh, yes, Monseigneur, you would blame me, and you would be right in doing so,” said Vanel: “for a man must be either imprudent or a fool to undertake engagements which he cannot keep; and I, at least, have always regarded a thing agreed upon as a thing done.”
Fouquet colored, while Aramis uttered a “Hum!” of impatience.
“You would be wrong to emphasize such notions as those, Monsieur,” said the superintendent: “for a man’s mind is variable and full of little caprices, very excusable, and sometimes very worthy of respect; and a man may have wished for something yesterday, and to-day have changed his mind.”
Vanel felt a cold sweat trickle down his face. “Monseigneur!” he muttered.
Aramis, who was delighted to find the superintendent carrying on the debate with such clearness and precision, stood leaning his arm upon the marble top of a console table, and began to play with a small gold knife with a malachite handle. Fouquet did not hasten to reply; but after a moment’s pause, “Come, my dear M. Vanel,” he said, “I will explain to you how I am situated.” Vanel began to tremble. “Yesterday I wished to sell-”
“Monseigneur has done more than wish to sell; Monseigneur has sold.”
“Well, well, that may be so; but to-day I ask you, as a favor, to restore me my word which I pledged you.”
“I received your word as a perfect assurance that it would be kept.”
“I know that; and that is the reason why I now entreat you,- do you understand me?- I entreat you to restore it to me.”
Fouquet suddenly paused. The words “I entreat you,” the force of which he did not immediately perceive, seemed almost to choke him as he uttered it. Aramis, still playing with his knife, fixed a look upon Vanel which seemed to search the inmost recess of his heart.
Vanel simply bowed as he said, “I am overcome, Monseigneur, at the honor you do me to consult me upon a matter of business which is already completed; but-”
“Nay, do not say but, dear M. Vanel.”
“Alas! Monseigneur, you see,” he said, as he opened a large pocket-book, “I have brought the money with me,- the whole sum, I mean. And here, Monseigneur, is the contract of sale which I have just effected of a property belonging to my wife. The order is authentic in every way, the necessary signatures have been attached to it, and it is made payable at sight; it is ready money. In one word, the affair is complete.”
“My dear M. Vanel, there is not a matter of business in this world, however important it may be, which cannot be postponed in order to oblige-“