“You have done wrong,” said Bourbon, sternly. “I have no time to waste on women now. Depart, good sister.”
“Dismiss me not, I pray your highness, till you have heard what I have to say,” rejoined the nun. “Am I so much changed? Does this garb disguise me so greatly, that you fail to recognise Marcelline d'Herment?”
“Marcelline d'Herment!” exclaimed Bourbon, in surprise.
“I am vowed to Heaven, as you see,” she rejoined. “I have entered a convent in Rome, and hoped to pass the rest of my days in peace. But I have been sorely troubled since I learnt that your highness was marching to lay waste the city, and determined, at whatever risk, to make an effort to save it. With that view I came forth to-night. I ventured to approach the sentinels, and I desired to be brought before your highness. The men refused, but while they were talking with me the Seigneur Pomperant came up, and at once consented to bring me before you.”
“If I have done wrong, I trust your highness will forgive me,” said Pomperant, “but I could not refuse the request.”
“Nay, there is no harm done,” said Bourbon. “But how comes it that you have abandoned the world?” he added to Marcelline. “I thought you had given your heart to Pomperant. Why have you placed this insurmountable bar between yourself and him?”
“Ah! why, indeed?” cried Pomperant, reproachfully.
“I could not do otherwise,” she rejoined. “But I have not come hither to tell my own sad story. I have come to entreat your highness, even at the eleventh hour, to abandon your impious purpose. Oh! prince, listen to me, I implore you. Treason and rebellion are great crimes, but they are as naught compared with the act you are about to commit. If you deliver over Rome to pillage and slaughter, your name will be for ever execrated. Turn back, I implore of you!”
“I cannot turn back. Be that my answer,” said Bourbon, impatiently.
“But it is in your power to save the city!” cried Marcelline. “You can come to terms with his Holiness, who will enable you to satisfy your men.”