“Hush, speak lower!” interrupted Chanlouineau. “Yes, one of these letters might perhaps save the life of one who has been condemned to death.” “Unfortunate man! Why do you not make use of it and save yourself?” The young man sadly shook his head. “Is it possible that you could ever love me?” he said, simply. “No, it is not. I have, therefore, no desire to live. Rest beneath the sod is preferable to the misery I am forced to endure. Moreover I was justly condemned. I knew what I was doing when I left the Reche with my gun upon my shoulder, and my sword by my side; I have no right to complain. But those cruel judges have condemned an innocent man----” “Baron d’Escorval?” “Yes--the father of--Maurice!” His voice changed in uttering the name of this man, for whose happiness he would have given ten lives had they been his to give. “I wish to save him,” he added, “I can do it.” “Oh! if what you said were true? But you undoubtedly deceive yourself.” “I know what I am saying.” Fearing that some spy outside would overhear him, he came close to Marie-Anne and said, rapidly, and in a low voice: “I never believed in the success of this conspiracy. When I sought for a weapon of defence in case of failure, the Marquis de Sairmeuse furnished it. When it became necessary to send a circular warning our accomplices of the date decided upon for the uprising, I persuaded Monsieur Martial to write a model. He suspected nothing. I told him it was for a wedding; he did what I asked. This letter, which is now in my possession, is the rough draft of the circular; and it was written by the hand of the Marquis de Sairmeuse. It is impossible for him to deny it. There is an erasure on each line. Everyone would regard it as the handiwork of a man who was seeking to convey his real meaning in ambiguous phrases.” Chanlouineau opened the envelope and showed her the famous letter which he had dictated, and in which the space for the date of the insurrection was left blank. “My dear friend, we are at last agreed, and the marriage is decided, etc.” The light that had sparkled in Marie-Anne’s eye was suddenly extinguished. “And you believe that this letter can be of any service?” she inquired, in evident discouragement. “I do not believe it!” “But----” With a gesture, he interrupted her. “We must not lose time in discussion--listen to me. Of itself, this letter might be unimportant, but I have arranged matters in such a way that it will produce a powerful effect. I declared before the commission that the Marquis de Sairmeuse was one of the leaders of the movement. They laughed; and I read incredulity on the faces of the judges. But calumny is never without its effect. When the Duc de Sairmeuse is about to receive a reward for his services, there will be enemies in plenty to remember and to repeat my words. He knew this so well that he was greatly agitated, even while his colleagues sneered at my accusation.”