“What we have to do is to stop the mischief and to-night, you understand, to-night the thing will be done.”
He at once gathered from her attitude and her pallor that she knew. And, at once, recovering his courage in her presence, without giving her time to speak, he exclaimed:
“Yes, yes, yes . . . but it doesn’t matter. We foresaw that. We couldn’t prevent it. What we have to do is to stop the mischief. And to-night, you understand, to-night, the thing will be done.”
Motionless and tragic in her sorrow, she stammered:
“To-night?”
“Yes. I have prepared everything. In two hours, Daubrecq will be in my hands. To-night, whatever means I have to employ, he shall speak.”
“Do you mean that?” she asked, faintly, while a ray of hope began to light up her face.
“He shall speak. I shall have his secret. I shall tear the list of the Twenty-seven from him. And that list will set your son free.”
“Too late,” Clarisse murmured.
“Too late? Why? Do you think that, in exchange for such a document, I shall not obtain Gilbert’s pretended escape?... Why, Gilbert will be at liberty in three days! In three days....”