He drew himself to his full height, always theatrical and romantic in his most natural attitudes, gazed round him with dolorous eyes, then, of a sudden, crossed himself, and drove into his breast the blade of a dagger--of the dagger which belonged to Josephine Balsamo. The action was so sudden and so unexpected that no one could have prevented it. Before his friends and Ralph had even grasped what he had done, Beaumagnan tumbled into the hole among the débris of what had been the strong-box of the monks. His friends sprang to him. He was still breathing and he muttered: “A priest--a priest.” De Bennetot hurried away. Some peasants passed. He questioned them and sprang into the carriage. On his knees beside his chief, Godfrey d’Etigues was praying and striking his breast. Doubtless Beaumagnan had revealed to him that Josephine Balsamo was still alive and knew all his crimes. The suicide of his chief on the top of that revelation had shattered his mind. His face was convulsed with terror. Ralph bent down over Beaumagnan and in slow and measured accents said: “I swear to you that I will find her. I swear to you that I will take the treasure from her.” Love and hate still persisted in the heart of the dying man. Such words alone could prolong his existence for a few fleeting minutes. At the hour of his agony, in the shattering of all his dreams, he clung desperately to every chance of reprisal and vengeance. His eyes summoned Ralph, who bent down lower and heard him mutter: “Clarice--Clarice d’Etigues--you must marry her. Listen--Clarice is not the daughter of the Baron--he confessed it to me--she is the daughter of another woman he loved.” Ralph said solemnly: “I swear to you I will marry her--I swear it.” “Godfrey!” said Beaumagnan. The Baron went on praying. Ralph laid a hand on his shoulder and made him bend down to catch Beaumagnan’s faint utterance. “Clarice is to marry d’Andresy. I wish it.” “Yes, yes,” said the Baron, incapable of resistance. “Swear it.” “I swear it.” “By your eternal salvation?” “By my eternal salvation.” “You will give him your money that he may avenge us--all the wealth you have stolen. Swear it!” said Beaumagnan. “By the eternal salvation,” said the Baron. “He knows all your crimes. He has proofs of them,” Beaumagnan continued. “If you do not obey me, he will hand you over to the police.” “I will obey.” “May you be accursed, if you do not,” said Beaumagnan. His voice was growing fainter broken by harsh gasps between which the words came more and more indistinct. Bent down, with his ear a little above his mouth, Ralph just caught them. “You’ll pursue her, Ralph.... You must tear the jewels from her.... She’s a devil.... Listen.... I have discovered.... At Havre.... She has a vessel.... The _Glow-worm_.... Listen.” He was at the very end of his strength. Nevertheless Ralph yet heard: “Go.... At once.... Hunt her down.... This very day.” His eyes closed, the death rattle began.