"Listen, monsieur," said the regent; "I believe that man must keep within the limits of his strength. There are things which God seems to forbid him to execute; there are warnings which tell him to renounce certain projects. I believe that it is sacrilege to despise these warnings, to remain deaf to this voice; our projects have miscarried, monsieur, let us think no more of them."
"On the contrary, monseigneur," said Gaston, sadly shaking his head, "let us think of them more than ever."
"But you are furious, monsieur," said the regent, "to persist in an undertaking which has now become so difficult that it is almost madness."
"I think, monseigneur, of our friends arrested, tried, condemned; M. d'Argenson told me so; of our friends who are destined to the scaffold, and who can be saved only by the death of the regent; of our friends who would say, if I were to leave France, that I purchased my safety by their ruin, and that the gates of the Bastille were opened by my revelations."
"Then, monsieur, to this point of honor you sacrifice everything, even Helene?"
"Monseigneur, if they be still alive I must save them."
"But if they be dead?"
"Then it is another thing," replied Gaston; "then I must revenge them."
"Really, monsieur," said the duke, "this seems to me a somewhat exaggerated idea of heroism. It seems to me that you have, in your own person, already paid your share. Believe me, take the word of a man who is a good judge in affairs of honor; you are absolved in the eyes of the whole world, my dear Brutus."
"I am not in my own, monseigneur."