"You are frank," returned Germain bitterly.
The Admiral was taken aback. He had counted on more effect for his harangue.
"I have one more '_inasmuch_,'" said he, with a sting in his tone and a gleam in his eye. "Inasmuch as by your imposture you deceived and misled a heart too pure and lofty for such as you to have dared towards----"
This shaft was aimed to strike deep, and so it did. Germain's defiant bearing fell, he dropped his head and groaned.
"Strike him!" roared Grancey. "You must die anyway. Strike, in default of a sword to run him through!"
"He dares not!" the Admiral exclaimed to the group of aristocrats. "You take him for one of yourselves. You are his dupes like the others."
"You admit this _inasmuch_?" he inquired triumphantly of Lecour.
"It is true, true, true," moaned Germain. "I may not deny it--the greatest crime of all my crimes."
The Admiral turned with a snort to Lecour's former companions. They were aghast.
"Had he denied it here are the proofs, absolutely beyond question!" the Admiral exclaimed, waving the Record, which he held in his hand.
"By the saints! what a conclusion," Bellecour exclaimed, curling his lip. As for Grancey he slowly turned his back, threw himself down on the straw on his face, and did not move. The Admiral again faced Germain.
Lecour's heart leaped. His eyes bespoke his suspense. Everything this man had to say seemed of such import that what went before faded for the moment.
"Here? Merciful God! alas, alas, poor Cyrène!"
The Admiral allowed him some moments. Ultimately he said, eyeing him keenly--
"You love her--would you like to save her?"
"Is there a hope?" Lecour said hoarsely, looking up with bloodshot eyes.
"Certainly, if you will do what I demand."
"The condition is this. That you make her with your own lips, in my presence, a confession of your imposture, of which, remember, I besides hold the proofs. Otherwise she dies to-morrow. Are you willing?" And the Admiral bent eagerly towards him with eyes full of flaming lights.
Lecour's heart stopped. His head flushed to bursting, the shame of years overcame him. His assent was expressed by more a groan than a word. The frightful thought was that she would repulse him for ever.
Yes, that too must be faced and done with--bitterness of bitterness. The old dream so marvellously won by deception must be shattered in every point. The Eternal Justice said to him: "NO MAN WHO HAS PROFITED BY A WRONG SHALL KEEP ITS FRUITS." Ah, what fruit of fruits, her love!