“I have never said so——”
“Does man or woman ever need to be told that, Marie? You have saved my life. Let me devote that life to you, and give you life and happiness. I will leave Paris to-night. There is a wicket gate in the gardens of the Louvre beyond the riding school. I have the key. Meet me there at compline, and when the sun rises to-morrow we will be safe from pursuit, and then, Marie—and then—happiness for you and for me——”
I stopped, for her face was as marble, and with a shiver she murmured to herself,
“What shall I do? What shall I do?”
“Marie!” I began; but she stayed me with a gesture, and putting her hands on my shoulders, looked straight into my eyes.
“Vibrac, you know not what you say. You are as mad as I am. Think what this will mean to you and to me! Think what the world will say!”
“I have thought, and I care not. What is the world to me, or I to the world? I am not mad. Let me save you from a life you hate. I will save you—there is not one who shall stand between me and the woman I love.”
“You love?” Her voice was so low the words might have been a whisper.
“Aye, love! And with a love you do not dream of, dear.”
“It will spoil your life—I cannot—I cannot!”