"His name?"
"Chevalier Charles de Noyan."
"Where confined?"
"Upon the flag-ship in the river."
I turned away and stood with my back to them both. I could no longer bear to gaze upon her agonized face uplifted in such eager pleading, such confiding trust; that one sweet face I loved as nothing else on earth.
Save her husband! For the moment it seemed as if a thousand emotions swayed me. What might it not mean if this man should die? His living could only add infinitely to my pain; his death might insure my happiness—at least he alone, as far as I knew, stood in the way. "To die to-morrow!" The very words sounded sweet in my ears, and it would be such an easy thing for me to promise her, to appear to do my very best—and fail. "To die to-morrow!" The perspiration gathered in drops upon my forehead as I wavered an instant to the tempting thought. Then I shook the foul temptation from me. Merciful God! could I dream of being such a dastard? Why not attempt what she asked? After all, what was left for me in life, except to give her happiness?
The sound of a faint sob reached me, and wheeling instantly I stood at her side.
"Madame de Noyan," I said with forced calmness, surprising myself, "I will redeem my pledge, and either save your husband, or meet my fate at his side."
Before I could prevent her action she had flung herself at my feet, and was kissing my hand.
"God bless you, Geoffrey Benteen! God bless you!" she sobbed impulsively; and then from out the dense shadows of the farther wall, solemnly as though he stood at altar service, the watchful Capuchin said: