I have forgotten how. [_Calling_.] Jean! JEAN. [_Crossing to_ DIANE.] Yes, Madame? DIANE. Hush! Do not let my father hear you call me Madame. [_Converses aside with_ JEAN. GOUROC. [_Taking a newspaper from table_.] Strange!--a Paris journal, dated the day after our escape. DUKE. [_Taking the paper_.] There may be some notice of our flight. [_Reads_. JEAN. [_To_ DIANE.] Will you never confess your marriage to Kauvar? DIANE. Never!--Unless he finds us with evidence of innocence none can question. JEAN. He will! We can trust the wit of his deep love for that. DIANE. So you believe him innocent? JEAN. As innocent as my own sweetheart, dear Denise. [DIANE _weeps_.] What--tears, Madame? DIANE. Tears of triumph--that your heart echoes mine! Ah, Jean, we two, alone, of all the world, believe he's not a traitor. DUKE. Here's a list of martyrs slaughtered the day that we escaped. GOUROC. [_Taking the paper_.] And here's a name underlined with ink. [_Starting up with great joy_.] By heaven, your own!--See!--In the list of fallen heads--the Duc de Beaumont! [_The_ DUKE _takes paper_. DIANE. [_Coming toward_ GOUROC.] You speak of the man who took my father's place, as though you exulted in his death!--Was he an enemy of yours? GOUROC. I rejoice that the man's disguise was not discovered--for the report of your father's death prevented our pursuit. DUKE. [_Joyfully to_ GOUROC.] You remember the Abbé de St. Simon? GOUROC. Yes. He was condemned to die with you. DUKE. This journal says that he escaped from the death-cart as it rumbled to the scaffold through the crowd. GOUROC. [_Starting, and with great emphasis_.] Impossible! DUKE. [_Holding out the paper_.] See for yourself! [GOUROC _takes paper eagerly_. LA ROCHE. [_Entering, with a cry of joy_.] Duke! DUKE. [_Holding out his arms_.] Henri! LA ROCHE. [_Embracing the_ DUKE.] In days of misery, a moment such as this is sweet indeed. But how did you escape? I saw your name among the guillotined. DUKE. [_Turning to_ GOUROC.] This gentleman wrought a way for our deliverance!--Monsieur le Marquis de Vaux. LA ROCHE. [_Grasping_ GOUROC'S _hand_.] Monsieur--the King's friends are all your debtors. GOUROC. Nay, sir, the debt is mine. Tis a privilege to save such precious lives. DUKE. [_Presenting_ DIANE.] Here's a lass you played with, years ago. LA ROCHE. What!--My little cousin--grown so stately and so sad! Mademoiselle, I claim a kinsman's right to kiss away these shadows. DIANE. And I yield the right with pleasure, cousin Henri. LA ROCHE. [_Kisses her_.] Good cheer, sweet cousin! You are now protected by the soldiers of the King, who--God willing--will punish those who brought this shadow to your face. GOUROC. That may not prove an easy task! Granville is overrun with rebels, who are urged to most atrocious crimes by Carrac. LA ROCHE.