"Is there no way of getting them without Madame? It looks to me dangerous," Lecour said.
"The demand must be made in person, Monsieur le Chevalier. I have thought that question over very carefully."
"If is the most dangerous thing yet."
"I do not conceal the risk, Monsieur."
"Dear Dominique," Cyrène put in firmly, "I am ready to do all you say."
"Yes, our more than parent," Lecour added in tears, "she is ready to trust her life in your hands," and going over to Dominique he put his arm upon his shoulder and kissed him.
The old man's lip trembled and he withdrew, and at the same time Cyrène also left the chamber to prepare for the ordeal.
Then did Germain fully realise the sharpness of dread. She whom he loved was in the direst peril. He saw the gulf which had swallowed so many others yawning for her life, and he trembled as he had never trembled before. It must be said for him that he had always valued his own life little and had been willing to risk it for another on more occasions than one. It was when not he but his heart's beloved was in such danger that his eyes were opened to the greatness of the fact of death. Moreover he felt that he was helpless to lessen the peril. For him to accompany her to the Hôtel de Ville was to make her fate absolutely certain. That charge must be left to Dominique, and—God!
God! He had not dared to think of God for years; yet now the Divine Face appeared through the dissolving vision of things mortal, and he suddenly saw it looming dim and awful as the one changeless Reality.
Her step sounded returning and he composed himself. Both tried to be brave. Both were thinking of the other's happiness.