"I seek no mercy at your hands, monsieur. If you have come to do tardy justice it will suffice for me, for you will order the gaoler there to unbind my hands and set me free."
"Not so fast, prisoner, not so fast," cried de Proballe.
"I addressed you, monsieur," said Gerard to the Governor.
"What would it be but mercy that should impel me to pardon the murderer, Gerard de Cobalt?"
"I am no murderer, neither am I M. de Cobalt."
"Admit that you are he and no harm shall come to you. I will keep my word and pardon you for the affair at Cambrai."
Gerard paused. The turn in things surprised him; and he could not see the motive of it. The Governor mistook his silence for hesitation.
"Write the admission that you are Gerard de Cobalt and guilty of that crime, and on my oath you shall go from Morvaix a free man."
"Why?"
"It is not for you to question. But I gave my word before you came and I will keep it even now."
"Why should I confess to a crime I never committed and blacken—ah, I think I see. You would show the confession to Mademoiselle de Malincourt. Is that the motive for this unexpected mercy, as you term it? I might have guessed it."
"Your answer?"
"I would sooner cut my hand off than write the lie."
"It is well that I told Pierre to be prepared," said de Proballe. "We know that you are Gerard de Cobalt, and that you devised the scheme of that letter to make us doubt you when you saw the danger in which you stood. But we have means at hand that will make you speak."
"Who, then, do you say you are?" asked the Governor.
