"It is so, madame! Did she not make me all that I am? Had not she my oath to save her?"
"Well, but you did save her, or I am much mistaken."
"Yes, from the enemies who would have made her suffer physical torture, but not from the despair which rends her heart, if she knows that it was you to whom I surrendered."
Claire hung her head and sighed.
"Ah! you do not love me," said she.
Canolles answered her sigh with another.
"I have no wish to tempt you, monsieur," she continued; "I have no wish to deprive you of a friend, whom I cannot hope to rival; and yet, you know that I love you. I came here to ask you for your love, your devoted, single-hearted love. I came to say to you: 'I am free, here is my hand. I offer it to you because you have no rival in my heart,—because I know no one who is superior to you.'"
"Ah! madame," cried Canolles, "you make me the happiest of men!"
"Nay, nay, monsieur," she rejoined, sadly, "you do not love me."
"I love you, I adore you; but I cannot describe what I have suffered from your silence and your reserve."