“Oh! father refuse him!” exclaimed Marie-Anne, “refuse him! It would be a crime to accept his offer.”
“A crime! And why, if you please?” asked Maurice.
“Because our cause is not your cause; because its success is doubtful; because dangers surround us on every side.”
Maurice interrupted her with a cry of scorn. “And you think to dissuade me,” said he, “by warning one of the dangers which you a girl can yet afford to brave. You cannot think me a coward! If peril threatens you, all the more reason to accept my aid. Would you desert me if I were menaced, would you hide yourself, saying, ‘Let him perish, so that I be saved!’ Speak! would you do this?”
Marie-Anne averted her face and made no reply. She could not force herself to utter an untruth; and on the other hand she was unwilling to answer: “I would act as you are acting.” She prudently waited for her father’s decision.
“If I complied with your request, Maurice,” said M. Lacheneur, “in less than three days you would curse me, and ruin us by some outburst of anger. Loving Marie-Anne as you do, you could not behold her equivocal position unmoved. Remember, she must neither discourage Chanlouineau nor the marquis. I know as well as you do that the part is a shameful one; and that it must result in the loss of a girl’s most precious possession—her reputation; still, to ensure our success, it must be so.”
Maurice did not wince. “So be it,” he said calmly. “Marie-Anne’s fate will be that of all women who have devoted themselves to the political cause of the man they love, be he father, brother, or lover. She will be slandered and insulted, and still what does it matter! Let her continue her task. I consent to it, for I shall never doubt her, and I shall know how to hold my peace. If we succeed, she shall be my wife, if we fail—” The gesture with which young d’Escorval concluded his sentence expressed more strongly than any verbal protestations that come what might he was ready and resigned.
Lacheneur seemed deeply moved. “At least give me time for reflection,” said he.
“There is no necessity, sir, for further reflection.”
“But you are only a child, Maurice; and your father is my friend.”