[Sternly.]

’Tis useless to intimidate the witness.  He will not prove himself a perjurer, and condemn himself to death, even to please so dear a friend as you.

PAUL.

My God!—­There is some wicked plot!

DUKE.

Yes—­and you’re the plotter.

[PAUL falls prostrate into chair near table.  Supporting DIANE to the door of his cell, the DUKE pauses and speaks.]

Paul Kauvar, we shall never meet again.—­Remember my last words.—­Beggars, thieves, assassins may escape perdition; but neither here, nor hereafter, is there any hope for Judas.

[Exit, supporting DIANE.

[NANETTE follows the DUKE off.  POTIN goes into the opposite cell.  GOUROC crosses to PAUL.

GOUROC.

How’s this, old Comrade?  I thought you were antique in the mastery of your emotions.—­A man of iron—­firm as flint!

PAUL.

Agony is fire that melts the mettle of the hardest man.

GOUROC.

But why should you—­a Jacobin—­care for this old Duke?

PAUL.

I loved his daughter—­she became my wife.

GOUROC.

[Starting.]

What!  Diane de Beaumont is your wife?

PAUL.

Yes—­has been my wife in secret—­for six months.

GOUROC.

[Aside.]

So I have a double task!  To save her—­and kill her husband.

[Aloud.]

The same old story, Comrade, and as usual a woman mars the plot!  You were a patriot, till love enmeshed you in his magic web; then you became the weakest of mankind—­a husband.  I am sorry, very sorry; but Paul—­my friend—­if I can serve you now, I beg of you command me.

PAUL.

Yes, you can serve me.  You have been my friend—­be more!

GOUROC.

Your sorrow seems so deep, I swear I think I’d serve it—­even at the cost of conscience!  Speak then, without fear.

PAUL.

Help me to save the father of my wife!—­See!  This key opens yonder door; to-night, at any moment, you may hear three knocks.—­That signal will be given by a man who will conduct you safely out of France.

GOUROC.

A man that you can trust?

PAUL.