Marceau turned away quietly; he appeared in the interval to have adopted a new project, and he prayed his companion to await him at the gate of the prison with horses and a carriage.
"She is arrested."
Before Marceau's name and rank the prison gates were soon opened, and he commanded the gaoler to conduct him to the cell where Blanche was enclosed. The man hesitated; but, on Marceau repeating his desire in a more imperative tone, he obeyed, making him a sign to follow him.
"She is not alone," said his guide, as he unlocked the low-arched door of a cell whose sombre gloom made Marceau shudder, "but she will not be troubled long with her companion; he is to be guillotined to-day." Saying these words he closed the door on Marceau, and determined to keep as quiet as possible concerning an interview which would be so compromising to him.
Still dazzled from his sudden passage from day to darkness, Marceau groped his way into the cell like a man in a dream. Then he heard a cry, and the young girl flung herself into his arms. She clung to him with inarticulate sobs and convulsive embraces.
"You have not abandoned me, then," she cried. "They arrested me, dragged me here; in the crowd which followed I recognised Tinguy. I cried 'Marceau! Marceau!' and he disappeared. Now you have come, you will take me away, you will not leave me here?"
"I wish I could tear you away this moment, if it were at the price of my life; but it is impossible. Give me two days, Blanche, but two days. Now I wish you to answer me a question on which your life and mine depend. Answer me as you would answer to God. Blanche, do you love me?"
"Is this the time and place for such a question? Do you think these walls are used to vows of love?"
"This is the moment, for we are between life and death. Blanche, be quick and answer me; each instant robs us of a day, each hour, of a year. Do you love me?'
"Oh! yes, yes!" These words escaped from the young girl's heart, who, forgetting that no one could see her blushes, hid her head upon his breast.
"Well! Blanche, you must accept me at once for your husband."
The young girl trembled.
"What can be your design?"
"My motive is to tear you from death; we will see if they will send to the scaffold the wife of a Republican general."
Then Blanche understood it all; but she trembled at the danger to which he must expose himself to save her. Her love for him increased, and with it her courage rose.
"It is impossible," she said, firmly.
"Impossible!" interrupted Marceau, "what can rise between us and happiness, since you have avowed you love me? Listen, then, to the reason which has made you reject your only way of escape. Listen, Blanche! I saw you and loved you; that love has become a passion. My life is yours, your fate is mine; happiness or death, I will share either with you; no
