As she made this reply, she heard an ill-suppressed cry behind her. She turned quickly, and saw Coursegol. He was leaning upon the arm of Bridoul, and his hands were clenched and his face flushed. He now comprehended, for the first time, the girl's heroic sacrifice. Fearing he would betray her, she gave him a warning glance, as if to impose silence. It was unnecessary. He well knew that any statement of the real facts would be useless now; and that the truth would ruin Antoinette without saving Dolores. Such mistakes were not rare during the Reign of Terror. Almost daily, precipitancy caused errors of which no one was conscious until it was too late to repair them. Only a few days before, a son had been condemned in place of his father; and another unfortunate man had paid with his head, for the similarity between his name and that of another prisoner in whose stead he had been summoned before the Tribunal, and with whom he was executed; for Fouquier-Tinville, not knowing which was the real culprit, chose rather to doom two innocent men to death than to allow one guilty man to escape. Dolores was sentenced to be beheaded under the name of Antoinette de Mirandol When her sentence was pronounced, the business of the Court was concluded, and the judges were about to retire when suddenly a man made his way through the crowd to the bar, and cried a stentorian voice: "The sentence you have just pronounced is infamous. You are not judges, but assassins and executioners." Then he crossed his arms upon his breast and glowered defiance on the indignant and wrathful judges. "Arrest that man!" thundered the public accusateur. Two gendarmes sprang forward, and the officer who had just spoken added: "Citizen judges, I place this prisoner at your bar. Question him that the citizen jurors may decide upon his fate." It was Coursegol, who, hearing Dolores condemned, had suddenly resolved not to survive her, but to die with her. "Unfortunate man!" murmured the young girl, and for the first time that morning her eyes filled with tears. Coursegol looked at her as if to ask if she thought him worthy of her. In answer to the question put by the chief judge, he curtly replied: "It is useless to seek any other explanation of my conduct than that which I am about to give. I am weary of the horrors which I have witnessed. I hate the Republic and its supporters. I am a Royalist; and I have no other wish than to seal with my blood, the opinions I have here proclaimed. "Citizen jurors," cried his accuser, angrily; "I ask for this man a punishment which shall be an example to any who may desire to imitate him." "He is mad!" objected one of the jurors. "No, I am not mad!" cried Coursegol. "Down with the Republic and long live the King!"