I threw down my knife, and sprang up in a frenzy of passion. ‘MON DIEU! Madame,’ I cried, ‘do you think that I have NO heart?’
And then in a moment I knew what I had done, what a folly I had committed. For in a moment she was on her knees on the floor, clasping my knees, pressing her wet cheeks to my rough clothes, crying to me for mercy—for life! life! his life! Oh, it was horrible! It was horrible to hear her gasping voice, to see her fair hair falling over my mud-stained boots, to mark her slender little form convulsed with sobs, to feel that it was a woman, a gentlewoman, who thus abased herself at my feet!
‘Oh, Madame! Madame!’ I cried in my pain, ‘I beg you to rise. Rise, or I must go!’
‘His life! only his life!’ she moaned passionately. ‘What had he done to you—that you should hunt him down? what have we done to you that you should slay us? Oh! have mercy! Have mercy! Let him go, and we will pray for you, I and my sister will pray for you, every morning and night of our lives.’
I was in terror lest someone should come and see her lying there, and I stooped and tried to raise her. But she only sank the lower, until her tender little hands touched the rowels of my spurs. I dared not move, At last I took a sudden resolution.
‘Listen, then, Madame!’ I said almost sternly, ‘if you will not rise. You forget everything, both how I stand, and how small my power is! You forget that if I were to release your husband to-day he would be seized within the hour by those who are still in the village and who are watching every road—who have not ceased to suspect my movements and my intentions. You forget, I say my circumstances—’
She cut me short on that word. She sprang to her feet and faced me. One moment more and I should have said something to the purpose. But at that word she stood before me, white, breathless, dishevelled, struggling for speech.
‘Oh, yes, yes!’ she panted eagerly. ‘I know—I know!’ And she thrust her hand into her bosom and plucked something out and gave it to me—forced it upon me. ‘I know—I know!’ she said again. ‘Take it, and God reward you, Monsieur! God reward you! We give it freely—freely and thankfully!’
I stood and looked at her and it; and slowly I froze. She had given me the packet—the packet I had restored to Mademoiselle—the parcel of jewels. I weighed it in my hands, and my heart grew hard again, for I knew that this was Mademoiselle’s doing; that it was she who, mistrusting the effect of Madame’s tears and prayers, had armed her with this last weapon—this dirty bribe. I flung it down on the table among the plates.
‘Madame!’ I cried ruthlessly, all my pity changed to anger, ‘you mistake me altogether! I have heard hard words enough in the last twenty-four hours, and I know what you think of me! But you have yet to learn that I have never done one thing. I have never turned traitor to the hand that employed me, nor sold my own side! When I do so for a treasure ten times the worth of that, may my hand rot off!’