he answered, 'I will. But
first let me remind you,' he went on proudly, 'that the affair has
another side. On the one hand I offer you such employment, M. de Marsac,
as should satisfy your highest ambition. On the other, I warn you that
my power to avenge myself is no less to-day than it was yesterday; and
that if I condescend to buy you, it is because that course commends
itself to me for reasons, not because it is the only one open.'

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?'

'I have thought,' I rejoined.

But my voice shook, my lips were dry. The room had grown dark. The rock
outside, intercepting the light, gave it already the air of a dungeon.
Though I did not dream of yielding to him, though I even felt that in
this interview he had descended to my level, and I had had the better of
him, I felt my heart sink. For I remembered how men immured in prisons
drag out their lives always petitioning, always forgotten; how wearily
the days go, that to free men are bright with hope and ambition.