"Remorse?" "Yes, madame, remorse; for as truly as God is upon that holy altar before which I tell you that I love you, there is at this hour a woman, a weeping, moaning woman, who would give her life for me, and yet she must say to herself that I am either a dastard or a traitor." "Oh! monsieur!--" "It is so, madame! Did she not make me all that I am? Had not she my oath to save her?" "Well, but you did save her, or I am much mistaken." "Yes, from the enemies who would have made her suffer physical torture, but not from the despair which rends her heart, if she knows that it was you to whom I surrendered." Claire hung her head and sighed. "Ah! you do not love me," said she. Canolles answered her sigh with another. "I have no wish to tempt you, monsieur," she continued; "I have no wish to deprive you of a friend, whom I cannot hope to rival; and yet, you know that I love you. I came here to ask you for your love, your devoted, single-hearted love. I came to say to you: 'I am free, here is my hand. I offer it to you because you have no rival in my heart,--because I know no one who is superior to you.'" "Ah! madame," cried Canolles, "you make me the happiest of men!" "Nay, nay, monsieur," she rejoined, sadly, "you do not love me." "I love you, I adore you; but I cannot describe what I have suffered from your silence and your reserve." "_Mon Dieu!_" exclaimed Claire, "is it impossible for you men to divine anything that you are not told in words? Did you not understand that I was unwilling to make you play a ridiculous rôle; that I would not give people a pretext for believing that the surrender of Saint-Georges was arranged between us beforehand? No, it was my intention that you should be exchanged by the queen, or ransomed by me, when you would belong to me without reserve. Alas! you could not wait." "But now, madame, I will wait. One hour like this, one word from your sweet voice to tell me that you love me, and I will wait hours, days, years." "You still love Mademoiselle de Lartigues!" said Madame de Cambes, shaking her head. "Madame," rejoined Canolles, "were I to say to you that I had not a feeling of grateful friendship for her, I should lie to you; take me, I pray you, with that feeling. I give you all the love that I have to give, and that is much." "Alas!" said Claire, "I know not if I ought to accept, for your words prove that you possess a very noble, but also a very loving heart." "Hear me," said Canolles, "I would die to spare you one tear, but without a pang I cause her you name to weep incessantly. Poor woman! she has many enemies, and they who do not know her, curse her. You have only friends; they who know you not respect you, and they who know you love you; judge, then, of the difference between these two sentiments, one of which has its birth in my conscience, the other in my heart."