“What’s the matter with you, Godfrey?” he asked.
“The matter with me? What should be the matter with me?” muttered the Baron more than a trifle indistinctly.
“Then?...”
“Then shove the boat down into the water.... But first of all, according to the instructions of Beaumagnan, we’ve got to remove her gag and ask her if there is any last wish she wants carrying out. You’d better get it over.”
“Me?” de Bennetot almost howled. “Me touch her? Me see her? I’d rather die!... Suppose you do it!”
“I couldn’t.... I’ll be damned if I could,” murmured the Baron huskily.
“But she’s guilty.... She committed those murders.”
“Of course.... Of course.... At least it’s probable that she did.... The only thing is she looked such a gentle creature.”
“Yes,” said de Bennetot. “And she’s so pretty—as beautiful as the Virgin.”
With one accord they fell on their knees on the pebbles and started to pray aloud for the girl who was about to die and on whose behalf they called for “the intervention of the Virgin Mary.”