"What connection has he with it? The very closest, my dear. Is not he a governor, as Richon was?"
Claire tried to speak, but the words died upon her lips.
She seized the duke's arm and gazing at him in terror, succeeded at last in uttering these words in a hoarse whisper:—
"Oh! but it's a feint, is it not, Monsieur le Duc? nothing more than a mere demonstration? We can do nothing—at least so it seems to me—to one who is a prisoner on parole."
"Richon also, madame, was a prisoner on parole."
"Monsieur le Duc, I implore you—"
"Spare your supplications, madame, for they are useless. I can do nothing in the matter; it is for the council to decide."
Claire dropped the duke's arm and hurried to Madame de Condé's cabinet, where she found Lenet striding back and forth, pale and agitated, while Madame de Condé talked with the Duc de Bouillon.
Madame de Cambes glided to the princess's side, as white and light of foot as a ghost.
"Oh, madame," said she, "give me one moment, I entreat you!"