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The Knight left the room without Maurice making a single move to stop him. He was barely out of the room when Geneviève threw herself at Maurice’s feet.

“Forgive me,” she begged. “Forgive me, Maurice, for all the wrong I have done you. Forgive me for all my deceit, forgive me in the name of all my suffering and my tears, for, I swear to you, I’ve nearly drowned in my tears, I’ve nearly died of suffering. Ah! My husband left this morning; I don’t know where he’s gone and perhaps I’ll never see him again. And now a single friend remains to me—no, not a friend, a brother—and you’re about to have him killed. Forgive me, Maurice! Forgive me!”

Maurice pulled her up off the floor.

“What do you expect?” he said. “It’s fate. Everyone is playing for their lives now. The Knight of Maison-Rouge has played like all the rest, but he has lost. Now he has to pay.”

“That is to say he’ll die, if I understand you correctly.”

“Yes.”

“He has to die and you’re the one who is telling me that?”

“It’s not me, Geneviève; it’s destiny.”

“Destiny hasn’t had the last word yet in this affair, for you can save him.”

“At the cost of my word and so of my honor. I see, Geneviève.”

“Close your eyes, Maurice, that’s all I’m asking you to do; I promise you, I’ll be as grateful as it is possible for a woman to be.”

“I would close my eyes in vain, madame; there is a watchword, a watchword without which no one can get out of here; for, I repeat, the house is surrounded.”

“But you know what it is?”

“Of course I know what it is.”

“Maurice?”

“Well?”

“My friend, my dear Maurice, tell me the watchword, I must have it.”

“Geneviève!” cried Maurice. “Geneviève! Who are you to come to me and say: Maurice, in the name of the love I feel for you, forgo your word, forgo your honor, betray your cause, renounce your beliefs? What are you offering me, Geneviève, in exchange for all that, you who are thus tempting me?”

“Oh, Maurice! Save him first, and then you can ask for my life.”

“Geneviève,” said Maurice in a somber voice, “listen to me: I have one foot on the road to infamy; to go down that road completely I need a good reason at least to defeat my own purpose and sink myself. Swear to me, Geneviève, you don’t love the Knight of Maison-Rouge.…”

“I do love the Knight of Maison-Rouge, but like a sister, like a friend, not otherwise, I swear to you!”

“Geneviève, do you love me?”

“Maurice, I love you, as surely as God can hear me.”

“If I do what you ask me to do, will you abandon family, friends, your country, to flee with such a traitor?”

“Maurice! Maurice!”

“She’s hesitating.… Ah! She’s got to think about it!”

With that Maurice jerked back with all the violence of disdain. With his support suddenly removed, Geneviève fell to her knees.

“Maurice,” she said wringing her hands. “Maurice, I’ll do anything you want, I swear; just say the word and I will obey.”

“You will be mine, Geneviève?”

“Whenever you ask.”

“Swear to Christ!”

Geneviève stretched out her arm. “My God!” she said. “You forgave the woman taken in adultery, I hope you will forgive me.”

Enormous tears rolled down her cheeks and fell on long wisps of hair floating over her breasts.

“Oh, not like that!” cried Maurice. “How can I accept your vow now?”

“My God!” she started again. “I swear to consecrate my life to Maurice, to die with him, and if need be for him, if he saves my friend, my protector, my brother, the Knight of Maison-Rouge.”

“That’s enough! He will be saved,” said Maurice. And he called the Knight.

“Monsieur,” he said, “put Morand the tanner’s outfit back on. I’m giving you back your word, you are free.”

“And you, madame,” he said to Geneviève, “here are the words: Carnation and Underground Tunnel.”

Then, as though he could not bear to remain in the room where he had pronounced the words that made him a traitor, he flung the window open and jumped from the room to the garden.

31

THE SEARCH

Maurice had resumed his position in the garden opposite Geneviève’s casement window; but the light was now out. Genevi