The marquis, who had turned quite pale, became livid.
“What!” he cried. “You dare utter that name in my presence?”
“He is all powerful; and my son is in danger.”
The marquis stopped her with a threatening gesture, and cried with an accent of bitter hatred,—
“I would a thousand times rather my son should die innocent on the scaffold than owe his safety to that man!”
His wife seemed to be on the point of fainting.
“Great God! And yet you know very well that I was only a little indiscreet.”
“No more!” said the marquis harshly.
Then, recovering his self-control by a powerful effort, he went on,—
“Before we attempt any thing, we must know how the matter stands. You will leave for Sauveterre this evening.”