--"No more of Sganarelle speeches," he went
on; "you will disgorge two hundred thousand francs, or be packed off
to Algiers."
"But, Monsieur le Ministre, you do not know my wife. She has spent it
all. Monsieur le Baron asked six persons to dinner every evening.
--Fifty thousand francs a year are spent in my house."
"Leave the room!" said the Minister, in the formidable tones that had
given the word to charge in battle. "You will have notice of your
transfer within two hours. Go!"
"I prefer to send in my resignation," said Marneffe insolently. "For
it is too much to be what I am already, and thrashed into the bargain.
That would not satisfy me at all."
And he left the room.
"What an impudent scoundrel!" said the Prince.
Marshal Hulot, who had stood up throughout this scene, as pale as a
corpse, studying his brother out of the corner of his eye, went up to
the Prince, and took his hand, repeating:
"In forty-eight hours the pecuniary mischief shall be repaired; but
honor!--Good-bye, Marshal. It is the last shot that kills. Yes, I
shall die of it!" he said in his ear.
"What the devil brought you here this morning?" said the Prince, much
moved.
"I came to see what can be done for his wife," replied the Count,
pointing to his brother.
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