I am turnkey here, though once a servant of the Duke's. You love his daughter; I can help her father to escape.
PAUL.
How?
JEAN.
[Crossing to the door.]
This opens on a staircase leading to the river. Here's the key. I have a boat below. To-night I'll creep up the stairs and knock three times. Open, then, this door—and you'll find deliverance for those you love.
PAUL.
[Taking the key.]
How can I repay this deed?
JEAN.
Trust me—that is all.
PAUL.
[Extending his hand.]
I will—I do!
JEAN.
[Kissing PAUL'S hand.]
I'm yours in life or death.
[Goes to door.]
Till to-night!
[Exit.
PAUL.
[Alone.]
Saved!—Thank God!—Their freedom in my hand!—
[Pausing.]
And yet she does not come.—Can it be that she believes me guilty—esteems me lower than the foulest worm?
[Enter DIANE.]
No, no,—I was right!
[Going toward her.]
I knew you'd come.
DIANE.
[Checking him.]
Stop!—Let me look at you and say farewell.
PAUL.
Then you really think me guilty?
DIANE.
If an angel had accused you, I would say it was a lie.
PAUL.
Diane! Diane!—My loyal wife!
[He embraces her.
DIANE.
[Shrinking from him.]
No, no! I am not worthy of your love! I must save my father's life, no matter what it costs me.
PAUL.
Courage, dear heart! I hold here salvation for you both.
DIANE.
You?
PAUL.
Yes! This very night your father shall fly with us to England.
DIANE.
Ah! Then I am free! I need owe him nothing!
PAUL.
Owe whom nothing?
[The tramp of SOLDIERS is heard outside.
DIANE.
Hark!—The Guard!—Take care!
Enter the DUKE, with GUARD and POTIN.
DUKE.
[Contemptuously to PAUL.]
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.
Your sorrow seems so deep, I swear I think I'd serve it—even at the cost of conscience! Speak then, without fear.
PAUL.
Help me to save the father of my wife!—See! This key opens yonder door; to-night, at any moment, you may hear three knocks.—That signal will be given by a man who will conduct you safely out of France.
GOUROC.
A man that you can trust?
PAUL.
To the death.—I saved his life.
GOUROC.
But suppose the Duke is called before the signal comes!—I must go and find some man to take his place.
GOUROC starts to go. PAUL'S face lights with a sudden resolution.
PAUL.
Stop! The man is found.
GOUROC.
Who is he?
PAUL.
The man they call a traitor—Paul Kauvar.
GOUROC.
[Suppressing a smile of surprise.]
You?
PAUL.
Yes. When safely out of France, tell them of my fate. My death may convince them I loved too deeply to betray.
[A bell begins to toll.
A VOICE.
[In the distance.]
Hubert, Marquis de Ferrand,—Mardoche, alias the Abbé de St. Simon—
GOUROC.
They're calling the condemned; there's not an instant to be lost.
[Crossing to cell.]
In this cell there hangs an old man's coat and wig, kept here to disguise the spies connected with the prison. Luckily they'll serve your purpose well.
[Opening cell door.]
Quick!—Get ready to answer when the Duke is called.
PAUL.
Tell my wife I died for love of her, and honour.
[Exit.
GOUROC.
[In exultation.]
Thank luck!—This man's death clears my path, and saves the money I meant to pay the Abbé.
Enter DIANE and NANETTE.
DIANE.
Where is he? I must see him once again!—Paul! Paul!
[Starting at sight of GOUROC.]
Who's there?
GOUROC.
Tis I! Here to save your father.
THE VOICE.
[Outside.]
Comte de Vigny,—André de la Roche—
GOUROC.
That's the last call of the condemned.—Your father's name stands next upon the roll.
DIANE.
Save him!—Save him!
GOUROC.
Obey me instantly, or all is lost; hide quickly in this cell! Trust to me and wait.
DIANE.
[Going with NANETTE into a cell.]
God deal with you as you now deal with me!
[Exit.
Tramp of GUARDS outside.
GOUROC.
[Crossing to cell and calling.]
Kauvar!—Be quick!—stand ready. By heaven!—A close shave!
OFFICER and GUARDS enter.
OFFICER.
[Advancing.]
Honoré Albert Maxime, Duc de Beaumont, you are called to the guillotine.
[PAUL comes forth in silence.]
Fall in.—Forward, march!
[As the GUARDS start with PAUL, DIANE rushes in with a cry of agony.
DIANE.
Father!—Father!—We have been deceived!
[DIANE rushes into PAUL'S arms; he embraces her passionately.
GUARDS force them apart and go out with PAUL.]
[Held back by GOUROC and NANETTE, DIANE shrieks.]
Father—father!
DUKE.
[Entering.]
Diane!—What is it?
DIANE.
[Turning in amazement and joy.]
What!—You are there?
GOUROC.
Yes, saved by me.
DIANE.
And he—? Who was he they dragged away?
GOUROC.
A man condemned to die—whom I disguised—to take your father's place.
DIANE.
[Falling on her knees.]
O God! Spare this man all pain in death—and give him life eternal!
CURTAIN.
ACT III.
SCENE. Headquarters of Royalists in Vendée. Interior of hall in old chateau. Fireplace; large doorways with staircase leading to terrace, overlooking Granville; Faubourg de Calvaire in middle ground. Doors from hall. Bay window with large table covered with papers, maps, etc. Charts near table and fireplace.
DISCOVERED: SENTINEL on terrace; LA HOGUE seated at the table busy with papers.
At rise of curtain—drums and fifes heard in distance.
DENISE enters, goes to terrace, gazes anxiously, then turns and crosses quickly to LA HOGUE.
DENISE.
[Shouting loudly.]
Monsieur La Hogue!
LA HOGUE.
[Gruffly.]
Well?
DENISE.
Do you hear?
LA HOGUE.
[Impatiently.]
Hear what?
DENISE.
The drums and piccolos yonder.
LA HOGUE.
[Listening.]
I can hear nothing.
[Drums, etc., sound more loud.
DENISE.
But listen now, it grows louder—up from Ville d'Avranches.
LA HOGUE.
[Starting up.]
D'Avranches?—Ha! Re-inforcements for the Kings' army! None too soon!
[Drums, etc., cease.]
[Enter an ORDERLY, who presents papers. LA HOGUE takes papers, reads, and exclaims.] The Count de Parame with recruits!
[To the ORDERLY.]
Tell your Colonel to report here instantly! General de la Rochejacquelein [Enter LA ROCHEJACQUELEIN.] is indignant at his delay, and—
LA ROCHEJACQUELEIN.
[To LA HOGUE.]
Gently, old friend! La Rochejacquelein will speak for himself.
[To ORDERLY.]
Ask the Count to honour me with his presence here as speedily as possible.
[Exit ORDERLY.]
Now these re-inforcements have arrived, we'll give these rebels battle.
LA HOGUE.
At last, thank God! And we're ready for the fight.
[Pointing.]
In the Faubourg de Calvaire there's hardly a house but harbours a detachment of our men.
LA ROCHE.
With that village in our hands we'll bring Granville town to terms.
To-night we will assault the place at every point.
LA HOGUE.
[Reverently.]
And God in mercy aid King Louis' men!
LA ROCHE and DENISE. [Together.]
Amen!
LA ROCHE.
[To LA HOGUE.]
Await the Count upon the terrace, and take him to my private room. But no roughness to the Colonel—try to be charming for a change.
LA HOGUE.
Bah! Leave charmers to women,—only fighters win at war!
[Exit.
LA ROCHE.
[To DENISE.]
How long since you have heard from Jean Litais?
DENISE.
Not since he, my lover, went to Paris to aid the Duc de Beaumont to escape.
LA ROCHE.
This fiendish reign of terror has prevented me from hearing of the
Duke till now.
DENISE.
And you have heard—?
LA ROCHE.
The worst of news! Among some papers captured in a skirmish, I found this journal, [Producing paper.] printed at Paris some three months ago. It contains a list of those beheaded the preceding day.—See this name I've underlined.
DENISE.
[Reading.]
"The Duc de Beaumont."
Enter a MAN from panel in wall up stage.
LA ROCHE.
Guillotined at night, upon the tenth of last October.
DENISE.
My God! If Jean has failed to save the Duke, he must be dead himself!
THE MAN.
[Advancing.]
Not yet!
LA ROCHE.
[Turning quickly.]
Who's this?
DENISE.
It's Jean!—
[Rushing into his arms.]
My Jean returned!
LA ROCHE.
Litais!—Is it really you?
JEAN.
Every bit of me, my lord.
DENISE.
Thank heaven!
LA ROCHE.
How did you pass the guard?
JEAN.
Faith, I know every corner of the old chateau. No guard could bar my way while I'd such news to bring! The Duke and his daughter are here—in the park.
LA ROCHE.
Alive and safe—?
JEAN.
As you are!—Grant me a guard to bring them through our lines.
LA ROCHE.
[Strikes a bell.]
[Enter ORDERLY, who salutes.]
See that Monsieur and his friends have safe passage through our lines.
ORDERLY crosses stage and stands at door.
JEAN.
In an instant we'll return.—Come, Denise; you shall see your old master once again.
DENISE.
And never let you leave my side while I have life to love you.
[Exeunt DENISE, JEAN and ORDERLY, who salutes GUARD before departing. Tumult in distance.]
LA HOGUE.
[Entering.]
The Count is here and anxious for the fight.
[LA ROCHEJACQUELEIN, listening, pays no attention. LA HOGUE speaks impatiently.]
Do you hear?
LA ROCHE.
Yes, I hear a tumult yonder! Can it be mutiny—revolt?
[Enter SECOND ORDERLY. He presents paper to LA ROCHEJACQUELEIN, who reads it aloud.]
"Have captured Jacobin soldiers. The peasants demand their lives. Shall I surrender them or hold them at your pleasure? La Val—Captain of King's Guards."
[To LA HOGUE eagerly.]
We may obtain information from these fellows. See La Val at once, command him to guard his prisoners with his life, and send them here to me.
LA HOGUE.
But the Count is awaiting orders for to-night's attack.
LA ROCHE.
[Going.]
While you see La Val, I'll see the Count.
[Exit.
LA HOGUE.
[To ORDERLY.]
To Captain La Val!
[Exit quickly with ORDERLY.
SENTINEL.
[Outside.]
Who goes there?
JEAN.
[Outside.]
A friend!
SENTINEL.
[Outside.]
Advance with countersign.
ORDERLY advances, salutes the SENTINEL, whispers in his ear, then steps back against balustrade of terrace as characters enter.—When characters are on, ORDERLY salutes SENTINEL, who returns salute. ORDERLY goes out. SENTINEL about faces and disappears.
Enter JEAN, DENISE, GOUROC, NANETTE, DUKE, AND DIANE.
JEAN.
[To the DUKE.]
You're safe at last, Monsieur, among your friends.
DIANE.
[Grasping JEAN'S hand.]
Thanks to your devotion.
DENISE.
[To the DUKE.]
I will announce your coming to the General.
[Exit.
NANETTE.
[To DIANE.]
Here, child, be seated, and taste comfort once again.
[DIANE sits near the fire; the DUKE and GOUROC at table.]
Now try to smile a bit.
DIANE.
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.
Yes—Thomas Carrac—a brutal monster, reeking with loyal blood; a loathsome anarchist, who glories in the vilest deeds.
GOUROC.
Ravishing without remorse the daughters of our race.
LA ROCHE.
If we could capture wretches such as he, it might end our civil war.
DIANE.
Is he so hard to take?
LA ROCHE.
Yes. Reptiles are worse to overcome than lions. They bite unseen, and escape by crawling. This Carrac is brave in words, but too craven to face fighting in the field. Our soldiers rarely reach these civil sinners.
DUKE.
Let us forget them here. For now we will task your hospitality for a time.
LA ROCHE.
I swear I have not felt the poverty that war entails till now. My old chateau has been dismantled—this hall alone is habitable. I feel ashamed to offer you such shabby quarters.
DUKE.
Nay, cousin, a bed of stones with friends is better than a bed of down with those we do not love.
DENISE.
[Entering, speaks to LA ROCHEJACQUELEIN.]
A couch and fire are ready in the room that was your mother's.
LA ROCHE.
[To DIANE.]
Where doubtless you'll be glad to take some rest.
DIANE.
I confess the need, Monsieur.
LA ROCHE.
Denise, show the way.
[DENISE crosses to the door.
DIANE.
[At the door.]
Till to-night, kind friends.
LA ROCHE.
Till then, good rest.
[DIANE courtesies and goes out with NANETTE.]
Gentlemen, I pray you, make yourselves at home; important business claims my time.—I'll rejoin you within an hour.
DUKE.
We're here to help, not mar the cause; command us in all ways.
LA ROCHE.
Presently!—Till then the poor old house is yours.
[Exit.
[Exit JEAN.
DUKE.
[Sitting near the fire.]
At last, praise God! We're out of reach of traitors!
GOUROC.
Not yet!—The rebel hosts have gathered here at Granville in great force. They may rout the royal army, and capture all of us.
DUKE.
No, not all, for I shall die first, fighting in the ranks.
GOUROC.
But Diane, your daughter—?
DUKE.
Must take the chances of a soldier's child.
GOUROC.
You forget her peril from this scoundrel, Carrac.—Why not put her safely out of the reach of such a brute?
DUKE.
How?
GOUROC.
There are vessels here by which we can escape to England.
DUKE.
I fly no further. I owe the King and country service here.
GOUROC.
Then let Diane go with me to friends in London. When I've found for her safe asylum, I'll return to do my duty at your side.
DUKE.
The daughter of a peer of France could hardly go so far without protection worthy of her rank.
GOUROC.
That she can secure as a Marquise, and my wife.
[The DUKE turns quickly in surprise.]
I know, dear Duke, that you are richer, nobler than myself, but then the love I bear your daughter, together with the dangers that surround her life and honour here—
DUKE.
Say no more!—There's nothing that would ease my mind so much as to see Diane your wife.
GOUROC.
Then plead my cause with her.
DUKE.
I'll more than plead.—Her perils urge me to command this marriage.
GOUROC.
Then do not lose a moment; the attack begins to-night. Before our army strikes, she and I, as man and wife, should sail for England.
NANETTE.
[Entering.]
Monsieur, your daughter desires a word with you—[Glancing at
GOUROC.] alone.
DUKE.
Say I'll see her here at once.
[Exit NANETTE.]
I'll broach this marriage to my child without delay.
GOUROC.
[Going.]
I'll be at hand in case you call me.
[Exit.
DUKE.
[Alone.]
This alliance secures Diane from peril. The Marquis is young, noble,—has saved her life, and has a claim on it. She must marry while there's time to get away.
[Enter DIANE.]
Now, dear child, what is it?
DIANE.
Father, I loathe this useless life of mine! I long for action—danger—anything that stirs the blood, and brings oblivion.
DUKE.
Oblivion!—Nay, Diane, I have something happier to suggest than that. Time and circumstance commend to you a marriage. We owe our lives to the wisdom of a man who seeks your hand to-day.
DIANE.
The Marquis?—[After a pause.] I cannot marry, for I do not love him.
DUKE.
Then 'tis time you did.
DIANE.
No more, I beg of you.—It is impossible!
DUKE.
Impossible! When prompted by the wisdom of a father's love? When your escape from peril and my peace of mind demand it?
DIANE.
I cannot argue.
DUKE.
Then at least explain.
DIANE.
Alas, I dare not.
DUKE.
You fear mere frankness with your truest friend?
[DIANE sinks into a chair and hides her face. The DUKE looks at her with suspicion.]
By heaven! You hide your face as though to speak implied dishonour.
DIANE.
No, no! It is not that!
DUKE.
Then why torture me with this concealment? Have I been cruel, or faithless as a father?
DIANE.
Never!
DUKE.
Then I claim a father's sacred right to confidence. Give me one good reason why you refuse the man to whom we owe our lives?
DIANE.
I love another.
DUKE.
[Starting.]
Another!
[After a pause.]
His name—?
DIANE.
What matter, since we shall never meet again?
DUKE.
I understand at last!—'Tis Paul Kauvar!
[DIANE bows her head.]
So! The saviour of your father's life is scorned for his betrayer! No wonder that you blush to own it! This makes my course more clear. The safest cure for this disgraceful love will be your marriage.
DIANE.
That cannot be!
DUKE.
[Going.]
I say it shall!
DIANE.
[Startled.]
Where are you going?
DUKE.
To seek the priest! Delay is dangerous! You wed to-day and sail to-night for England.
DIANE.
No, no! Have pity! I have no right to marry.
DUKE.
[In horror.]
No right?
DIANE.
[Falling at his feet.]
I am a wife already.
DUKE.
His wife?—You, my flesh and blood, a traitor's wife!—Oh God! What have I done to merit such a blow as this?
DIANE.
Father,—forgive! Hear me!
DUKE.
[Flinging her off, rushes to the door.]
Henri, Marquis—here! All of you!
[Enter LA HOGUE, LA ROCHEJACQUELEIN, GOUROC, JEAN and DENISE.]
[To LA ROCHE.]
Call your guards! Drag this woman away! Fling her to these rebel dogs—for she is one of them!
GOUROC.
What has she done?
DUKE.
Deceived a father's love! Become the mate of my betrayer.
[Turning on DIANE.]
Degraded remnant of my race!—Go! Back to your own, wife of a Sans
Culotte!
GOUROC.
[Stepping between them.]
Stay! There must be some mistake!
DUKE.
No! She has confessed that she's the wife of Paul Kauvar.
GOUROC.
That cannot be, for Paul Kauvar is dead.
DUKE.
Dead? How do you know that?
GOUROC.
Because he, disguised, took your place on the guillotine.
DIANE.
[Rising.]
My God!
DUKE.
What! I owe my life to him?
GOUROC.
He died to atone his treachery to you.
DIANE.
Traitors do not die to save their victims! His life was noble! His death sublime!
[To the DUKE.]
You have foully wronged the man who bravely met a martyr's death for you!—have scorned and spurned me from your side, because I was his wife. You have disowned me—I now disown you!
[Turning, she goes swiftly up the steps to the terrace.
LA ROCHE.
Where are you going?
DIANE.
Back to the Sans Culottes!
DUKE.
Diane!—Daughter!
DIANE.
No! Not your daughter—but his wife! No longer Diane de Beaumont—but, thank God,—Diane Kauvar!
CURTAIN.
ACT IV.
SCENE. Same as Act III.—DUKE discovered seated in attitude of despair.—GOUROC standing near mantel.—LA ROCHEJACQUELEIN enters sadly.
DUKE.
[Rising anxiously.]
What news?
LA ROCHE.
None.
[The DUKE sinks back into chair.
GOUROC.
Then she has positively escaped?
LA ROCHE.
While we stood dazed with horror at her words—she vanished. Our soldiers have searched, but can find no trace of her.
DUKE.
[Starting up.]
I will find her!
LA ROCHE.
[Barring his way.]
This is madness.
DUKE.
Let me pass!
LA ROCHE.
Hear me!
DUKE.
While I listen, she is lost!—An army shall not stop me.
[Breaks from him towards door.
DENISE.
[Entering joyfully.]
She is found!
ALL.
Found?
DENISE.
Yes. Jean tracked her,—they are bringing her here.
JEAN.
[Entering.]
General, I have not failed.
LA ROCHE.
[Grasping his hand.]
You never do.
LA HOGUE enters first, followed by two GUARDS, whom he directs to the entrance at top of steps.—DIANE enters, followed by two GUARDS.
DIANE.
[To LA ROCHEJACQUELEIN.]
By what authority, Monsieur, am I arrested?
DUKE.
By mine. I am your father.
DIANE.
My marriage has set me free of parental rule. I claim the right to fly from those who have defamed my noble husband. General, command your soldiers to release me!
GOUROC.
No!—You shall not go.
DIANE.
What will prevent me?
GOUROC.
The force of your own honour.
DIANE.
Honour commands me to return to my husband's friends.
GOUROC.
Honour commands you to keep your word with me.
[DIANE starts and turns away.]
You promised, if I saved your father, and you were free, you'd be my wife.—I have done my part, you must do yours.
DIANE.
[Passionately, to GOUROC.]
Now I understand your joy when you read of the beheadal of the man who took my father's place!—You knew he was my husband.
GOUROC.
I did.
DIANE.
You planned his death to free and force me to this marriage.
GOUROC.
I did not learn that you were his wife till he was going to the guillotine.—Then he told me all, confiding you to my care. I promised him I'd shield you from all peril.—I but keep my word with him, in asking you to keep your word with me.
DIANE.
So you would wed the widow of a Sans Culotte?
GOUROC.
Your husband was my friend; I knew and honoured him.
DIANE.
Ah, you believe, then, that Potin lied when he declared he got the warrant for the Duke's arrest from Paul Kauvar?
GOUROC.
I now believe that your husband was the victim of a trick.
DIANE.
Then swear—before those who have heard the dead defamed—swear that you believe my husband was innocent of infamy.
GOUROC.
[With deep sincerity.]
As I hope for mercy from my God, I believe that Paul Kauvar was guiltless of dishonour.
DIANE.
[Impressed with his sincerity.]
Then his widow swears to keep her word with you.
[She extends her hand to GOUROC.
LA HOGUE crosses, up steps, to GUARDS, and directs them silently to exit.—They about-face, and go out.
GOUROC.
[Aside, triumphantly kissing DIANE'S hand.]
At last!
[Howls of execration outside.]
What is that?
LA ROCHE.
The mob howling at some captured rebels.
[Enter ORDERLY, who presents paper.]
[Reading paper, LA ROCHEJACQUELEIN speaks to ORDERLY.]
Conduct the prisoner here.
[Exit ORDERLY.]
[Turning to DIANE.]
Cousin, I must ask you to retire. We have secret business to transact.
DUKE.
[Giving DIANE his arm.]
We will await you in my daughter's room.
[To GOUROC.]
Marquis, we can complete the plans for your marriage and escape to
England.
[Exeunt DIANE, DUKE, JEAN, DENISE and GOUROC.
GOUROC.
[Aside, as he goes out.]
Now I know that I shall triumph!
LA ROCHE.
[To LA HOGUE.]
When and where were these prisoners secured?
LA HOGUE.
At dawn this morning, in the centre of the Faubourg. They fought like fiends! Their leader is a veritable lion.—Though overcome by numbers, he don't seem conquered in the least!—Hang my hide! I cannot help but like him!
[Howls renewed outside.
ORDERLY.
[Entering.]
The prisoner is here, General.
LA ROCHE.
Bring him in.
[ORDERLY beckons.—Yells outside. GUARDS enter and form on terrace behind entrance.—Enter PRISONER, who strides haughtily in.]
[To ORDERLY.]
Retire and guard the doors.
[ORDERLY right-faces.—GUARD goes of with ORDERLY.]
[Politely to PRISONER.]
I see, sir, you're an officer.
PRISONER.
Yes.—Captain of Volunteers in the ranks of the Republic.
LA ROCHE.
To what corps do you belong?
PRISONER.
Kleber's—who waits upon the banks of the river to cut off your retreat.