The Chevalier quitted the room without a gesture from Maurice offering to detain him.
As he left the chamber Geneviève cast herself at the young man's feet.
"Pardon, Maurice," sobbed she,—"pardon for all the evil I have done. Forgive my deception; forgive me, if only on account of my tears and suffering, for believe me I have wept much and suffered much. My husband left me this morning; I know not where he is gone, and perhaps I may see him no more. And now I have only one friend left,—nay more than friend, a brother,—and you will destroy him. Pardon, Maurice, pardon!"
Maurice raised the young woman.
"What would you?" said he. "There is fatality in all this. Every one stakes his life in these days; the Chevalier de Maison-Rouge has played like all the rest, but he has lost the game, and he must therefore pay."
"That means that he must die, if I understand you rightly?"
"Yes."
"He must die; and it is you who tell me this?"
"It is not I, Geneviève; it is fatality."
"Fatality has not uttered its last word, since you can save him."