GOUROC.
Au revoir, Monsieur le Duc, and bon voyage, Mademoiselle de Beaumont.
[Exeunt the DUKE and DIANE. GOUROC changes to a fierce and hurried manner.]
Ah!—Not so fast, dear Duke! You're not out of France yet. This sudden flight destroys all my plans. Again this girl, the heiress of ten millions, will get beyond my reach.—No!—death, dishonour—nothing shall snatch her from me now!—Aye, but how to prevent it?
[Reflecting.]
The Duke has not many years to live, and in these ticklish times old men's days are easily shortened. He dead, his daughter's at my mercy.
[With sudden triumph.]
I have it!—I see the way to place her wholly in my grip!—A brilliant move and easy to execute!—Kauvar knows nothing of my rank!
[Rings bell, goes to desk and begins to look at papers.]
Yes, these are what I need to guarantee my triumph!