"Oh, my sweet love, I cannot! They have sentenced me to death. They will soon come to summon me."
"No, no, my dear one, they will not come to lead you to death. They will not kill you. I bring you life! I bring you pardon!"
"Pardon!" he cried, almost shrieked. "Pardon! But from whom?"
"Pardon from your sovereign and master, from the Emperor Francis!"
"God be praised. I can accept it from him," cried Kolbielsky jubilantly. "So I am free? Speak, dearest, I am free?"
She shook her head slowly and sadly. "I have been able only to save you from death," she said mournfully. "I have been able only to obtain your life, but alas! not your liberty."
"Then I remain a prisoner?"
"Yes, a prisoner."
"For how long?"
"For life," she murmured in a voice barely audible.