And I have had few
temptations. How do I know what you have suffered?'

'Or done!' I said, almost rudely.

'Where a man has not lied, nor betrayed, nor sold himself or others,'
she answered in a low tone, 'I think I can forgive all else. I can
better put up with force,' she added smiling sadly, 'than with fraud.'

Ah, Dieu! I turned away my face that she might not see how pale it grew;
that she might not guess how her words, meant in mercy, stabbed me to
the heart. And yet, then, for the first time, while viewing in all its
depth and width the gulf which separated us, I was not hardened; I
was not cast back upon myself. Her gentleness, her pity, her humility
softened me, while they convicted me. My God, how, after this, could I
do that which I had come to do? How could I stab her in the tenderest
part, how could I inflict on her that rending pang, how could I meet her
eyes, and stand before her, a Caliban, a Judas, the vilest, lowest thing
she could conceive?

I stood, a moment, speechless and disordered; overcome by her words,
by my thoughts. I have seen a man so stand when he has lost all at the
tables. Then I turned to her; and for an instant I thought that my tale
was told already, I thought that she had pierced my disguise. For her
face was changed--stricken as with fear. The next moment, I saw that
she was not looking at me, but beyond me; and I turned quickly and saw
a servant hurrying from the house to us. It was Louis. His eyes were
staring, his hair waved, his cheeks were flabby with dismay, He breathed
as if he had been running.

'What is it?' Mademoiselle cried, while he was still some way off.
'Speak, man. My sister? Is she--'

'Clon,' he gasped.

The name changed her to stone.

'Clon? What of him?' she muttered.

'In the village!' Louis panted, his tongue stuttering with terror. 'They
are flogging him. They are killing him! To make him tell!'

Mademoiselle grasped the sundial and leant against it, her face
colourless; and, for an instant, I thought that she was fainting.

'Tell?' I said mechanically. 'But he cannot tell. He is dumb, man.'

'They will make him guide them,' Louis groaned, covering his ears with
his shaking hands, his face the colour of paper. 'And his cries! Oh,
Monsieur, go, go!' he continued, in a thrilling tone. 'Save him. All
through tie wood I heard his cries. It was horrible! horrible!'

Mademoiselle uttered a moan of pain; and I turned to support her,
thinking each sec