“But when I found you here and thought you meant to degrade me, to force me into the arms of that villain——”
“Mademoiselle!” I protested, “you cannot accuse me as I do myself. At least I can make amends now.”
“But is there nothing I can do for you?” she asked.
“Nothing. The papers, the obligations, the evidence against me, are in the hands of a notary. If he does not hear from the Marquis and myself tomorrow, he has orders to hand the packet to the Chief of Police.”
“What do you propose to do, sir?”
“To warn you. Beware of du Trémigon. Although he has failed in this instance, he will surely strive again to compromise your honor. There will be one ray of comfort in my soul, that I have again been able to render some slight assistance to you. And I cherish the hope, if you think of me at all, that you will bear in mind that I love you.”
“But, Monsieur——”
“Mademoiselle, if I had met you under happier circumstances, I should have made it my prayer to live for you. Now at least I can die for you, and I trust that my death will redeem this disgrace upon my name.”
I laid the little slipper softly on the table. I kissed it tenderly, reverently, before I put it down. I stepped nearer to her. She stood, as if paralyzed, gazing upon me. There was a flush in her cheeks; her bosom heaved. I sank at her feet and took her hand. It was icy cold. Mine was burning. I kissed it fervently and rose.
“Farewell,” I said, and then heard sounds, footsteps in the hall, a knock at the door of the anteroom through which I had to pass in order to make my escape.