"Ah, he will find means to bend you to his will, that inexorable old man. Escape from him before he makes good his threat. War is not yet declared. You are still free to act. Procure your leave from the Foreign Office, no matter under what pretext. When you are far away, when orders can no longer reach you----"
"Never! never!" exclaimed Raoul. He felt himself about to succumb, and his sense of honour, all of it that was left, revolted. His grandfather's image arose before him,--the 'inexorable old man' with scorn in his eyes. Once more it won the victory over the threatened loss of his love, once more it snatched him from danger.
"Never!" he repeated. "I could not live beneath such a burden, even beside you, Héloïse. Farewell!"
He hurried to the door, where he encountered Henri Clermont, who had just returned from a walk, and who would have detained him.
"Whither so fast, Raoul? Have you not a moment to give me?"
"No!" the young Count gasped. "I must go on the instant. Farewell!"
He rushed away. Clermont looked after him, surprised, and then turned to his sister: "What ails the fellow? why is he in such desperate haste?"
"It is his reply to my suggestion that he should follow us to France," Héloïse replied, in a deeply irritated tone. "You heard it. He bade me farewell."
Henri shrugged his shoulders. "He will be here again to-morrow. I should suppose you would be aware by this time of your power over him. He has resigned Hertha Steinrück and a princely fortune for your sake. You he never will resign!"