"You say there are only fourteen condemned, and that we are fifteen?" said she.
"Yes; the Citizen Fouquier Tinville must have made a mistake."
"Ah! you spoke falsely, then," said Geneviève, turning to Maurice; "you were not condemned."
"And why wait for to-morrow, when you die to-day?" said Maurice.
"My love," said she, smiling, "you reassure me; I am now convinced that it is easy to die."
"Lorin," said Maurice, "now for the last time—no one here can recognize you—say that you came to bid me adieu; say that you have been shut in by mistake; call the gendarme who saw you go out. I am the true criminal who ought to die. But you, my friend, we beseech you to live to love our memory. There is yet time, Lorin; we entreat you!"
Geneviève joined her hands in an attitude of prayer. Lorin took both her hands and kissed them.
"I have said no, and I mean no," said Lorin, in a firm voice; "say no more on the subject, or I shall think I am a bore to you."
"Fourteen," repeated Sanson, "and here are fifteen;" then elevating his voice, "Is there any one here who can protest against this?" said he; "is there any one here who can prove he is here by mistake?"