He paused, and as his astonished hearers stood rooted to their places with wonder, he turned and approached Marie-Anne’s bedside.
With hand uplifted to heaven over the lifeless form of her whom he had loved, and in a voice that would have made the murderess tremble in her innermost soul, he said, solemnly:
“To you, Marie-Anne, I swear that I will avenge you!”
For a few seconds he stood motionless, then suddenly he stopped, pressed a kiss upon the dead girl’s brow, and left the room.
“And you think that man can be guilty!” exclaimed the abbe. “You see, Jean, that you are mad!”
“And this last insult to my dead sister is an honor, I suppose,” said Jean, with a furious gesture.
“And the wretch binds my hands by saving my father!” exclaimed Maurice.
From his place by the window, the abbe saw Martial remount his horse.
But the marquis did not take the road to Montaignac. It was toward the Chateau de Courtornieu that he hastened.