"How much will you give me for it--how much?" continued Roch. "How
much--how much?"
"Ten million dollars," replied Gaydon.
"Ten millions! Ten millions! A fulgurator ten million times more
powerful than anything hitherto invented! Ten millions for an
autopropulsive projectile which, when it explodes, destroys everything
in sight within a radius of over twelve thousand square yards! Ten
millions for the only deflagrator that can provoke its explosion! Why,
all the wealth of the world wouldn't suffice to purchase the secret
of my engine, and rather than sell it at such a price I would cut
my tongue in half with my teeth. Ten millions, when it is worth a
billion--a billion--a billion!"
It was clear that Roch had lost all notion of things, and had Gaydon
offered him ten billions the madman would have replied in exactly the
same manner.
The Count d'Artigas and Captain Spade had not taken their eyes off
him. The Count was impassible as usual, though his brow had darkened,
but the captain shook his head in a manner that implied plainly:
"Decidedly there is nothing to hope from this poor devil!"
After his outburst Roch fled across the garden crying hoarsely:
"Billions! Billions!"
Gaydon turned to the director and remarked:
"I told you how it would be."
Then he rushed after his patient, caught him by the arm, and led him,
without any attempt at resistance, into the pavilion and closed the
door.
The Count d'Artigas remained alone with the director, Captain Spade
having strolled off again in the direction of the wall at the bottom
of the park.
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