You here, traitor? DIANE. [_Aside to the_ DUKE.] You must not call him that. He did not betray. The proof is this--that he has come to save you. DUKE. And so make my debt to him a means of reaching you;--but I would not accept my life from hands unclean with treachery. PAUL. There's not a drop of traitor's blood within my veins! DUKE. Yet you signed the warrant for my arrest. PAUL Then another hand than mine--unknown to me--filled in your name. DUKE. Plausible trickster!--We have here double proof that you are guilty. [_Enter_ GOUROC _in background_.] The evidence of the man to whom you gave the warrant, commanding him to take it to the Guard. PAUL. There's no such man alive--or dead! DUKE. Potin, advance. [POTIN _comes forward sullenly_.] Repeat what you swore in court.--From whom did you receive the warrant for my arrest? POTIN. [_After a struggle_.] I received it from-- [_Hesitates_. GOUROC. [_Aside to_ POTIN.] Take care!--If I denounce--you die! DUKE. Well, sir, we are waiting. POTIN. [_Desperately_.] I received it--[_Pointing at_ PAUL.] from him. [PAUL _recoils with horror_. DIANE, _with cry of agony, hides her face upon her father's breast_. PAUL. [_Crossing to_ POTIN.] Potin, look at me.--On your word hangs the honour of your old and steadfast friend! Look in my eyes, and, in the name of your own salvation, speak nothing but the truth. DUKE. [_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.