“You will, my beautiful boy. You will, I know. You cannot refuse a mother’s prayer. Oh, I know that you will not refuse me.”
“But I do,” said Dick who showed signs that the interview was taxing his strength to the utmost. “I will die before I sign that paper.”
“You refuse?” cried Madame, losing control of herself. “Then hear me, Richard Vance. You shall not thwart me in my purpose. You shall sign that paper. I am stronger than you, and I say that you shall do it.”
She seized the lad’s hand and tried to force a pen into it. Dick struggled feebly. With a bound Jeanne was by his side, all her fear of the woman gone in the menace to her brother.
“What are you doing here, Jeanne Vance?” cried Madame starting back at sight of the girl. “How came you here?”
“I wanted to see my brother,” answered Jeanne, throwing her arms about him protectingly. “Have you no heart, no feeling, that you would take advantage of his weakness?”
“I am not so weak that she could make me sign that paper,” cried Dick, his pale face and shaking hands belying his assertion.
“We shall see,” cried Madame threateningly. “He shall sign it before you, my little Yankee.”
Jeanne watched her opportunity as her aunt tried to push her aside, and snatched the paper from her hand.
“There!” she cried as she tore it into shreds. “There, Aunt Clarisse! He cannot sign it now.”