"That means dishonour."
"No, no," Philippe answered, in an outburst of enthusiasm. "It is the beauty of a nation to raise itself above those miserable questions. And France is worthy of it. You do not know it, father, but since the last forty years, since that execrable date, since that accursed war the memory of which obsesses your mind and closes your eyes to every reality of life, a new France has come into existence, a France whose gaze is fixed upon other truths, a France that longs to shake off the evil past, to repudiate all that remains to us of the ancient barbarism and to rid herself of the laws of blood and war. She cannot do so yet, but she is making for it with all her young ardour and all her growing conviction. And twice already, in ten years—in the heart of Africa, face to face with England; on the shores of Morocco, face to face with Germany—twice she has overcome her old barbarous instinct."
"Shameful memories, for which every Frenchman blushes!"
"Glorious memories, of which we should be proud! One day, those will be the fairest pages of our time; and those two dates will wipe out the execrable date. That is the true revenge! That a nation which has never known fear, which has always, at the tragic hours of its history, settled its quarrels in the old barbarous fashion, sword in hand, that such a nation should have raised itself to so magnificent a conception of beauty and civilization, that, I say, is its finest claim to glory!"
"Words! Words! It's the theory of peace at any price; and it is a lie that you are advising me to tell."
"No, it is the possible truth that I ask you to admit, cruel though it may be for you to do so."
"But you know the truth," cried Morestal, waving his arms in the air. "You've sworn it three times! You've signed it three times with your name! You saw and heard the truth on the night of the attack!"
"I do not know it," said Philippe, in a firm voice. "I was not there. I was not present when you were captured and carried off. I did not hear M. Jorancé's call. I swear it on my honour. I swear it on the heads of my children. I was not there."
"Then where were you?" asked Marthe.