Martial had listened to this tirade with unconcealed scorn, and without even attempting to interrupt it. But now he slowly replied, “I think, sir, that if Mademoiselle Lacheneur _had_ any doubts of the value of the document she possesses, she certainly can have them no longer.”
This answer fell upon the duke’s wrath like a bucket of iced water. He instantly realised his folly; and frightened by his own words, stood literally stupefied with astonishment.
Without deigning to speak any further to his father, the marquis turned to Marie-Anne. “Will you be kind enough to explain what is required in exchange for this letter?” he said.
The duke started as if he had received an electric shock. “Ah!” he exclaimed. “I knew they would ask for something that was impossible!” He sank back into an arm chair; and his despair now seemed as deep as his frenzy had been violent. He hid his face in his hands, evidently seeking for some expedient. “Why didn’t you come to me before judgment was pronounced?” he murmured. “Then, I could of done anything--now, my hands are bound. The commission has spoken, and the sentence must be executed--” He rose, and added in the tone of a man who is utterly resigned: “Decidedly, I should risk more in attempting to save the baron”--in his anxiety he gave M. d’Escorval his title--”a thousand times more than I have to fear from my enemies. So, mademoiselle”--he no longer said, “my good girl”--”you can utilize your document.”
Having spoken, he was about to leave the room, when Martial detained him, “Think again before you decide,” said the marquis. “Our situation is not without a precedent. Don’t you remember that a few months ago the Count de Lavalette was condemned to death. Now the king wished to pardon him, but the ministers had contrary views. No doubt his majesty was the master; still what did he do? He effected to remain deaf to all the supplications made on the prisoner’s behalf. The scaffold was even erected, and yet Lavalette was saved! And no one was compromised--yes, a jailer lost his position; but he is living on his pension now.”
Marie-Anne caught eagerly at the idea which Martial had so cleverly presented. “Yes,” she exclaimed, “the Count de Lavalette was favoured by royal connivance, and succeeded in making his escape.”