“I will.”
“You? do not hope that you will be able to deter me. I will appear before them, put them to the blush, kill them both, then put an end to my own wretched existence. That is what I intend to do, and nothing shall stop me!”
If M. Verduret had not held Prosper with a vice-like grip, he would have escaped, and carried out his threat.
“If you make any noise, Prosper, or raise an alarm, all your hopes are ruined.”
“I have no hopes now.”
“Raoul, put on his guard, will escape us, and you will remain dishonored forever.”
“What difference is it to me?”
“It makes a great difference to me. I have sworn to prove your innocence. A man of your age can easily find a wife, but can never restore lustre to a tarnished name. Let nothing interfere with the establishing of your innocence.”
Genuine passion is uninfluenced by surrounding circumstances. M. Verduret and Prosper stood foot-deep in mud, wet to the skin, the rain pouring down on their heads, and yet seemed in no hurry to end their dispute.
“I will be avenged,” repeated Prosper with the persistency of a fixed idea, “I will avenge myself.”