“Not mercy, but justice. The baron is innocent.”
Martial approached Marie-Anne, and lowering his voice:
“If the father is innocent,” he whispered, “then it is the son who is guilty.”
She recoiled in terror. He knew the secret which the judges could not, or would not penetrate.
But seeing her anguish, he had pity.
“Another reason,” said he, “for attempting to save the baron! His blood shed upon the guillotine would form an impassable gulf between Maurice and you. I will join my efforts to yours.”
Blushing and embarrassed, Marie-Anne dared not thank him. How was she about to reward his generosity? By vilely traducing him. Ah! she would infinitely have preferred to see him angry and revengeful.
Just then a valet opened the door, and the Duc de Sairmeuse, still in full uniform, entered.
“Upon my word!” he exclaimed, as he crossed the threshold, “I must confess that Chupin is an admirable hunter. Thanks to him——”
He paused abruptly; he had not perceived Marie-Anne until now.