"What do you want?"
From where she was she could see the list, and at its head the one name she dreaded to find.
"Read, if you wish," he said indifferently. "It will give you pleasure."
There were ten names in all, Barabant's being the first, and hers was not of the number.
"I have something to ask of you."
"Ask."
"I do not ask that we be sent to the guillotine together," she said, planning cunningly to avoid one danger. "That would be too great a consolation for you to accord us. Exchange my name for Barabant's."
"Nini," he said, watching her with covetous, blinking eyes. "I don't intend to let you go."
"If you will send me instead," she cried; "if you swear it, swear to spare him, I will give you a secret that will earn you the gratitude of Fouquier."